The Element Of Surprise

Hello World, Happy Autumn! We welcomed the autumnal equinox on Wednesday, which like its vernal counterpart in the spring, is when the daylight hours and the night time hours are exactly the same. It isn't technically accurate to say that the days start getting shorter from here, because they've actually already been getting shorter since the first day of summer way back in June, which has the longest daylight hours of the entire year. But it does seem that they get shorter faster at this time of year - and then they toss the nefarious specter of Daylight Saving Time at us in November to really louse things up even further, thanks not - so a word to the wise is to hold onto your hats, because it's going to be a bumpy ride. And that's not just the Druids talking, believe me. And so here we find ourselves at the very last weekend in September on top of everything else, believe it or not, and nothing to show for it but blood, sweat, and tears, and plenty of it, by golly. Speaking of tears, there's been no lack of that in the swamps of East Rutherford, as the under-whelming Giants stumbled badly out of the gate, racking up a woeful 0-2 record to start the season, before grinding out a win over Washington on Thursday, and thanks so very much not. Meanwhile, their cross-town rivals in green, the unheralded Jets, roared out to an impressive 2-0 start right off the bat, leaving the pundits and prognosticators shaking their collective heads, and the odds-makers cursing the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, I shouldn't wonder. In other sports news on the local scene, and also having their ups and downs on both sides of the ball (as well as the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, it goes without saying) last weekend's Subway Series between the Yankees and Mets made at least half of the pinstripe faithful happy, while the other half (of the junior franchise) did not find much to their liking, alas. The vaunted Bombers won 2 out of 3, and handily at that, outscoring the Amazin's 17 to 7 overall - including an 11-2 drubbing to close out the series on their home turf, that left their disappointed fans decidedly not singing the praises of inter-league play, I dare say. On the positive side, the surprising Mets lead their division by 7 games over the Nationals with 10 games left, while the Yankees either have to make up 3 games to catch first-place Toronto, or stay ahead of the Astros for the AL Wild Card spot. Of course, being in the playoffs is old hat to the Yankees by now, heaven knows, but it was a sort of wistful observation on the part of Mets' announcer Ron Darling when he remarked that it's nice to be able to play games in September that mean something for a change. It's been a long time coming, and in the immortal words of the late, great Tug McGraw: "Ya gotta believe!" And incredibly in even more local sports news, I was more surprised than anybody to find the New York Rangers playing the New Jersey Devils on television in a pre-season game last week, big as life and twice as scrappy, as impossible as that might seem. Considering that this is only September, and they don't award the Stanley Cup until June, with only 82 games in the whole season, it certainly seems like an awfully long time from beginning to end, I don't mind saying. I was going to point out that MSG was running the game on their network, apparently without a hint of irony at this time of year, when the Boys of Summer are still tearing up the diamonds, for heaven's sake - but on the other hand, I couldn't help but notice that everyone on the team was someone whose name I didn't recognize (Brian Gibbons? Jayson Megna?? Antti Raanta??? And these are the goal scorers in a winning effort, mind you!) so maybe this was nothing more than a huge practical joke after all. And speaking of huge, it would have been impossible to miss the colossal announcement that zoomed into my email last week, with the screaming headline: ============================ WANT TO RIDE THE ZAMBONI AT YOUR NEXT RANGERS GAME? ============================ Personally, I have only one thing to say about that, which is, "HECK, YEAH!!!" In fact, I think that riding on a Zamboni brings a whole new meaning to the word "cool" on so many different levels, and that's not just a lot of hockey pucks, believe me. It goes on to say "Zamboni rides are available during select Rangers home games with a donation to the Garden of Dreams Foundation for each ride." Sign me up! This charitable organization from the self-appointed World's Most Famous Arena is well known for its good works in and around the community, and I am totally on board with that. Unfortunately in the fine print (there's always fine print, don't you know) it specifies that rides are limited to youngsters between the ages of 6 and 12, confound it all. So much for my moment in the spotlight, skimming across the storied ice, and drinking in the thrill of the chill from one end of the rink to the other. I tell you, George Bernard Shaw wasn't kidding when he said "Youth is wasted on the young," and I ought to know. Meanwhile, at the temporary job I'm doing now in the real estate office, I had occasion to show a prospective tenant some vacant space in one of our buildings where I had never been before. We poked around for a bit, checking over the walls and carpet, windows and alcoves in the small space, and taking note of the salient features. Then we spotted a door in the back corner with a sign that said LADIES on the front, so we opened it up expecting - I might say, justifiably - a bathroom, but were instead confronted with a tiny closet, without so much as a shelf, hook, or light switch to call its own. The prospect was obviously taken aback at this startling turn of events, although much too polite to stare, and I found myself saying in a jovial manner, "I suppose this is where you store your ladies." He laughed. Frankly, I think it's just as well that we didn't open that door and find a closet full of ladies already being stored in there - although if they came with their own Zamboni, I'll admit that they wouldn't be able to get me out of there at gunpoint, and I am unanimous in that. Elle

Soup To Nuts

Hello World, Happy September! Also, may I take this opportunity to wish a very Happy Jewish New Year to the sons and daughters of Israel - or in fact, anyone who likes a good party, and who doesn't, I ask you that. It can be challenging to get the school year off to a strong start when confronted with not one, not two, but three separate movable feasts at the same time - Labor Day, Rosh Hashanah, and Yom Kippur - so that the schools have just about flung open their doors after a long hot summer, and here they are, closing up shop again. I suppose the school systems are used to it by now, after all, we're celebrating the year of 5776 this time around, which you figure would be plenty long enough to iron out all of the kinks that would need to be flattened by now. What I wasn't expecting was the unwelcome discovery that the City of Yonkers Building Department was also closed on Monday and Tuesday (which really punched a hole in some of our plans at the real estate office where I'm working now) and it seemed very peculiar to me that a municipal government, in a massive urban metropolis like Yonkers, would be closed for the Jewish holidays. On the other hand, it's a well-known fact that Yonkers is always quick to make a buck wherever they can, so we can't ignore the possibility that they charge extra to make property owners comply with regulations to ensure that their structures are certified Kosher, and meet all of the standards that designation entails. Frankly, it sounds pretty (gefilte) fishy to me, and as they used to say on "Seinfeld" in the old days, "No (matzo ball) soup for you!" Speaking of time is on my side (NOT) anyone on Facebook earlier in the week could not fail to notice a large, colorful, and blaring graphic, under the heading of "This Sucks" announcing to one and all that we need to turn our clocks ahead this Sunday, and wraps up with the admonition to "Please Share and Repost" in big letters at the bottom. Excuse me??? I don't know where in the vast expanding universe this applies, but I know for a fact that it certainly isn't here on this planet in this solar system, for at least a couple of very good reasons. First of all, clocks are set ahead in the spring when the inaptly named Daylight Saving Time begins (BOO!) and which has long since already happened on March 8th earlier in the year. And in the second place, the end of Daylight Saving Time is when we turn the clocks back, not ahead, and that won't happen until November 1st this year. So where this grand and jaunty graphic came from, insisting that we turn our clocks ahead on September 20, is a mystery to me, I'm sure. Honestly, between the Jewish New Year of 5776, Daylight Saving Time in September, and Pope Gregory revamping the Julian calendar in 1582, somewhere the Druids are having a great big laugh, I dare say. And speaking of the Pope, alert readers may have noticed that the Twitter-sphere was all abuzz with this story a couple of weeks ago: ======================= Vatican Backs Plan to Name Rome Square for Martin Luther ======================= I don't think so! Inasmuch as Martin Luther was excommunicated by the Catholic Church in 1521, and nearly single-handedly caused the Protestant Reformation in his wake, I sincerely doubt that the Vatican (famous for its long history of holding grudges, and even longer memories) is really prepared to jump aboard the Martin Luther bandwagon at this late date. But the story goes that soon "A hilltop square in Rome is due to be named Piazza Martin Lutero, in memory of Luther's achievements. The site chosen is the Oppian Hill, a park area that overlooks the Colosseum." I notice they're not calling it "Martin Luther Plaza," and I may be alone in this opinion, but I'm guessing that Martin Lutero is actually the name of a local baker where they get their morning pastries, and no wonder they want to name a piazza for him, and surreptitiously at that. Or as they used to say on "Seinfeld" in the old days, "No (Italian Wedding) soup for you!" In other ecclesiastical news, and this much closer to home, I can only admit that I have no one to blame for this but myself, try as I might to find another culprit, alas. There is a very famous passage in the Bible at Joshua 24:15, where Joshua basically says to the rest of the recalcitrant Israelites, "I don't give a flying fig what the heck all of you guys decide to do, I'm not taking responsibility for any of you, and you can just go right ahead and do as you please." He then wraps up with a very stirring message about staying true to his faith, which has thrilled generations upon generations since his classic words were first spoken. Not so fast! Last week at church, I had occasion to use that quote in a document, and was more surprised than anybody to find Joshua's heroic sentiments badly mangled to read: "But as for me and my horse, we will serve the Lord." (For the benefit of the godless Communists and KGB agents monitoring my email - whose name is legion, heaven knows - I can assure everyone that Joshua never actually mentions his horse at any point in the narrative.) What Joshua was really referring to was everyone in his household, and he used the literary device of synecdoche in the word "house," where a single word is pressed into service to represent the whole, and his rousing declaration about "me and my house" staying true to his religious roots instantly ignites our spirits, in a way that him and his horse, frankly, could never aspire to, believe me. So there was definitely room for improvement there, which I'm sure even the aggrieved Joshua - not to mention, generations upon generations of Scripture enthusiasts, going all the way back to those original recalcitrant Israelites - would agree with, and who could blame him. Faring no better was Bill, who left a very specific and important message in the Reminders on his phone, because it was obviously of critical necessity, and he couldn't afford to have it overlooked through careless neglect. Unfortunately, the note in his Reminders says very plainly, and in its entirety: "Find out what to do about" and thereupon abruptly leaves its anxious reader in the lurch, as it were, and no doubt clamoring for more, I shouldn't wonder. That tantalizing fragment continues to be a mystery to this day, and likely to remain so at this rate, I'm afraid, although not from lack of trying, I can tell you that. Meanwhile at work, we asked one of our esteemed contractors to do some drywall work for one of our tenants, which they did with proficiency and dispatch, as expected. They followed that up with an invoice, which described the work and job location, and identified us as the customer. But to make sure we remembered exactly what project this was for, they also provided the name and address of the tenant, or rather, what they referred to as the "Havilland Lexington sweet." Now, I'll have you know that I've actually met these tenants, and you can believe me when I say that they are very far from sweet in any way, in fact, the word "barracuda" springs immediately to mind unbidden, in spite of rigorous efforts to suppress it, and I ought to know. Far be it from me to cast aspersion on our contractor friends, but I wouldn't think it would be beyond the realm of possibilities that someone in the building trades would understand the difference between a "suite" and "sweet," after all. Or as they used to say on "Seinfeld" in the old days, "No (barracuda) soup for you!" Elle

Going, Going, Gone

Hello World, Greetings again! This has been an interesting week, with Labor Day on Monday, and what they are now calling Patriot Day on Friday - the latter of which is also known as The National Day of Service & Remembrance, which seems an awful lot to cram onto just one day, but there you have it. Of course, everybody long since realizes - at least, they should by now, heaven knows - that I always say it's the short weeks at work that turn out to be the longest, and this no exception, so I stand by that opinion. Rosh Hashanah starts on Sunday night, so there's certainly no lack of occasions to be observed in the last few days. Not to mention, back-to-school, which has become its own movable feast, depending on where you live, so that confused youngsters don't know if they're coming or going, and their poor befuddled parents even more so, I dare say. We don't have that problem here because our cats don't go to public school, although I did notice them circulating a petition to send us to obedience classes, but I told them that's not a happening thing, believe me. Of course, it wouldn't be Labor Day without the estimable Flag Brigade running up the colors upstairs and downstairs for the holiday as usual. Actually, it was thanks to Bill this time around, because he moved the bedroom air conditioner to another window, and away from the flag bracket, to make it all possible. After that, it was up to The Flag Brigade to remember to bring them back in again before dinner, and that actually happened, so from that we can surmise that The Age of Miracles has not passed, Amen! There is often a concern that the weather might turn changeable, and the somewhat unpredictable Flag Brigade would have to step lively to rescue Old Glory from the raindrops, but it's been so record-breaking dry around here for so long, that the actual miracle was that the star-spangled banner didn't just spontaneously combust and go up in flames right on the pole. And right along with the rest of the rockets' red glare and bombs bursting in air, I shouldn't wonder, great (Francis) Scott. In sports news, the professional football season started off with a bang on Thursday with Pittsburgh and New England - and please feel free to go right ahead and insert your own "Deflategate" joke here with impunity, and I will not be the one to say that you're all full of hot air, or take the wind out of your sails, by golly. (Go ahead, I'll wait. Dum dee dum dee dum dum ..... ) Gridiron action gets underway in earnest on Sunday, delighting its euphoric fans the world over, and the clamoring advertisers, it goes without saying. Meanwhile in baseball, the pennant races are heating up all over the place, and with a scant 3 weeks left to go in the regular season, teams are scrambling to make the most of their remaining chances. Our local Sports section ran a giant front-page story on the Yankees pitchers, where the club is holding them to strict pitch counts to keep their arms fresh for the playoffs. I don't in any way blame the Yankees for the following (or beat writer Chad Jennings, who knows better) but the caption under the photo of Michael Pineda read: ========================= Skipped a start in June and probably would have skipped more had he not went on the Disabled List in July ========================= Had he not went! Ye gods - talk about no hits, no runs, and one great glaring error by the caption writer, that's a big league blunder for real. I see that The Grammar Police have fainted clean away, and for the rest of us persnickety language curmudgeons (and the dinosaurs and I know who you are!) there is no joy in Mudville, that's for sure. Had he not went, indeed. And in fact, it would not have been much of a holiday weekend for us, had we not went (ouch!) to visit our friends around Albany for the occasion. Of course, we're always happy to see them, at any time or any place for any reason, and they were kind enough to invite us to enjoy their backyard pool while the weather was still balmy enough for it. We set off at a trot on Saturday, and the traffic was not all that bad along the way for a holiday weekend, so we made it up there in remarkable time - especially considering that we left late and made a stop in mid-stream, as it were. Our hosts greeted us with open arms and toasty grilled cheese sandwiches with a variety of fillings, and we were not shy about pouncing on them like a couple of vagrants starved for a good meal. After a suitable interval, it was into the pool for us, and it did not disappoint, I can tell you that. The weather was exceptional, and the sparkling water and convivial company would be more than a tonic for whatever ails us. Then it was off to dinner at the nearby Circle Diner, and I'm happy to report that their macaroni & cheese entree was a deliciously novel change of pace. From there we did some window shopping at a capacious crafts store, where you can believe me when I say that not only Fall, but Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's were all in full swing, with all the stops pulled out, by jingle. Meanwhile out in the real world, it was still Summer, so we hurried over to Guptill's Coney Express in Cohoes for their locally famous soft ice cream, which although it is mobbed with customers year-round, is indeed worth the wait. After that it didn't take much for us old geezers to start nodding off, but we stayed up long enough to watch "Monsoon Wedding" on their big screen TV, and found it different and interesting in many ways. Since they had invited us to stay with them, it was a very short jaunt down the stairs to their spacious guest quarters, where we slept soundly in spite of their 2 friendly and curious cats, who were determined to share the space with us. In the morning we savored a leisurely breakfast of French toast, eggs, and assorted fruit, which was a big improvement over staying at a hotel, where you have to race around packing up in the morning to check out on time, and breakfast is just one more thing to get out of the way in a hurry. Since we had no special plans for the weekend, it was nice to have some quiet and unstructured time to just relax and go where the day might take us. It wasn't long before we were back in the pool, and loving every minute of it, I can assure you. We also squeezed in some shopping, and more of their big screen TV, and still managed to actually depart on time, as impossible as that might seem. As much as we were sorry to leave (and here, I will very pointedly NOT say the pool, more than our very hospitable friends) we could hear that Denny's in Newburgh calling our names, and we made a bee-line for it as if we hadn't eaten in a month of Sundays. The rest of the trip home was uneventful, and the traffic was still not really bad, since supposedly the bulk of holiday travelers would be on the move Monday rather than Sunday. Even I would admit that it would be captious to suggest, particularly after such a wonderful visit, that the best part of the weekend was having Monday off from work (YAY!) but it certainly didn't hurt any, and that's a plain fact. On the other hand, it's those short weeks that can make a person go crazy, and I might worry about it too - that is, had I not already went. Elle

Peace And Quiet

Hello World, Happy Labor Day weekend! Here is normally where I would invoke the spirit of the late labor activist, Samuel L. Gompers, and wish everyone a wonderful long holiday weekend and rest from their various labors, and blah and blah and even more blah. Anyway, there's nothing new in that after all these years, heaven knows, so please consider yourself suitably invoked, wished, and it goes without saying, plenty of rest. Speaking of rest, I got a note from my sister enjoying the rustic charms of Willsboro Bay at Lake Champlain for a week of relaxing, fishing, kayaking, and boating in the serene wilderness. It concluded with this rather arresting remark: "Many people have died on our vacation." (!!!) This would not necessarily be my vacation of choice, if that were the case, I don't mind saying. Not so fast! Apparently they were all reading murder mysteries in their spare time, and the vacation victims were all literary fictions, rather than actual casualties, so that was a genuine relief. As a public service, I was just about to very much un-recommend Willsboro Bay as a vacation destination, on the theory that life is dangerous enough without killing the tourists, after all. Something that you would not expect to be dangerous is the Workman 365 Cats Page-A-Day Calendar, which has an adorable kitty picture on each day, plus a brief tidbit of interest about their habits, health, grooming, safety, toys, or different breeds. One day last week featured a cat chewing on a tortilla chip, along with the following admonition: "Is it good for him? No way! People treats are NOT good for cats. One could argue that they're not good for us, either." Spoilsports! And speaking of sports, there was a front-page story in the Sports section about beloved defensive end Osi Umenyiora announcing his retirement from the NFL after 12 impressive seasons. His first 10 years were spent terrorizing offenses in the swamps of East Rutherford with the New York Giants, before moving on to Atlanta at the end. So it made sense for him to sign a one-day contract with the team so he could retire as a Giant. The retirement was three weeks in the making, prompting the defensive legend to quip: "I've been in negotiations with Jerry Reese about the terms of this one-day contract. I wanted a two-day contract. You know, obviously Jerry wasn't going for that. So we finally settled on the one-day contract and I'm here." Somewhere off in The Great Beyond, after the Giant's woeful 6-10 record last year, Branch Rickey is saying, "We could have done that without you, Osi." In other numerical news, I admit that I'm having a tough time summoning up any sympathy for the financial nabobs wringing their hands over the recent stock market turbulence, where the wailing and gnashing of teeth on Wall Street has reached mythic proportions usually reserved for whole economies collapsing and people jumping out of windows on an epic scale. On its worst day of plunging shares, the jittery market still closed above 10,000 points - an impossible achievement that would have been unthinkable just 20 years ago. And the economic prognosticators keep trying to convince me that falling oil prices are a very bad thing, but frankly, I couldn't be more delighted to see the results at our local service stations, where gas prices are finally going in the right direction at long last, if I do say so myself. The Sunoco on the corner lost 15c in one fell swoop, going from $2.99 to $2.84 overnight, and two days later, it was down another nickel to $2.79. My apologies to the market gurus, but those are numbers that I can live with, and to be honest, if it continued to go lower, I wouldn't mind a bit. Call me a voodoo freakonomics guerilla (don't you dare!) but as they say at McDonald's, "I'm lovin' it!" And while we're asking the musical question, "What's so funny about peace, love, and understanding?" I'd like to close with the following from a colleague who delivered a keynote address at the World Peace and Prayer Celebration in August, still going strong in its 20th year, and this time around, lovingly ensconced at the bucolic Howard Prairie Lake Resort in Oregon. I think we can all agree that there's no such thing as too much peace - or prayer, for that matter - and there's certainly no lack of rhetoric on the subject, heaven knows, although very little of it worth sharing. I believe this is one of the exceptions, and I pass it along in a spirit of tolerance, common sense, and optimism for a brighter future that we all hope to see. Here, I defer to the eloquence of the author's own words: ============================================================== Albert Einstein once said, "The unleashed power of the atom has changed everything save our modes of thinking and we thus drift toward unparalleled catastrophe." His words seem to be coming true, and when World Peace and Prayer Day came to Southern Oregon I wondered what words it would be possible to say that might change our modes of thinking and steer us away from the brink and towards Peace (a tall order indeed!!) What I came up with I call the "Prerequisites For Peace" speech which I delivered at the World Peace and Prayer Day celebration. I recorded that speech and put it together with a collage of photos that I took. My speech may not have been well and forcefully delivered (the word "clumsy" comes to mind) and the writing might have been a little better, but I believe (if I may be so bold) that I accurately covered what we are missing as a society, where we need to go and what we need to do if we are going to avoid the unparalleled catastrophe of which Einstein spoke. Here is a link to the video: http://youtu.be/F10ndzQ5wig/ I hope you enjoy it. ================================================================ Elle