Queens Boy

2016 Presidential Primary Season

2016-03-12T11:38:00.000-05:00

The Republicans: Its’ like the Real Housewives only they’re Presidential candidates and instead of being in one city, they move from state to state each week. Otherwise it’s the same lowest common denominator personality driven "stuff". A subset of our population has watched / rubbernecked this format and the Media is smart, knows this will sell, and doesn’t care about its public trust enough to not leverage it in this campaign cycle.

So the Networks just follow the formula; each week there’s a Town Hall or Debate, the sound bites get re-purposed in the following news cycles, and a couple of days later the Stations report the primary results and have their talking heads opine about them. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Leading the charge is the Nielsen gift that keeps on giving – Donald J – who is more than happy to prop everyone’s ratings. We’ve gotten so used to and desensitized by his Brand on The Apprentice that the only difference now is instead of his opening sequence being “Money, Money, Money” by the O’Jays Sunday nights on NBC, he’s on every channel all the time and, oh yes, he happens to be running for President. Aside from that nothing has changed and it seems apparent to much of the population that that one variable – seeking the highest office in the land - isn’t a biggie. So Disney, Moonves, and NBC run this all the way to the convention and then we’ll see if Trump is voted off the island.

The Democrats: Meanwhile the remainder of the AlbertFinney/Network folk that feel like they’ve been screwed for the last 30 years and haven’t been consumed by that anger are “Feelin the Bern” based on the Senator from Vermont’s Vision. However when asked in debates for his tactical plans to enact his strategies…he’s still seems to be working on that...while Hillary is there to describe how she’ll execute - on his messaging. She should be thankful he’s in the race. Every Ali needs a Frazier – look what happened to Tyson when he didn’t have a worthy opponent for all those years. As Hill still doesn’t seem to be a compelling candidate – even sans pant suits - she can stay close to Bernie ideologically and then take those delegates/voters to the finish line because they won’t not vote after the lather that Sen. Sanders whips them into – especially considering what may happen if they don’t. The only reason they’ll stay home on the first Tuesday in November is because they’re packing for Canada. She’s like the efficient Subaru that’s drafting behind a Mack Truck going cross-country on I-80.

Keep in mind that we’re still seven months out from the general election and this is a marathon probably with additional twists and turns further on down the road. It reminds me of that old Bugs Bunny cartoon that ends with “RabbitSeason, Duck Season, Rabbit Season, Duck Season, Elmer Season”.

Who knows, with “The Most Interesting Man in The World” recently announcing his retirement, perhaps Mr. Real Estate has that new "terrific" and "huge" opportunity to focus on which is more aligned to his persona.

Espana

2015-06-07T20:29:00.000-04:00

Tuesday, May 19^th - Our Trip to Espana

This is the first adventurous trip Carol and I have taken since our Honeymoon. The first few days I kept having to remind myself I’m on vacation, having been so routinized to feel that if I’m not constantly connected via email I won’t be able to stay on top of my work related stuff.

After hitting Minyan with Carol to check the box and get a traveling prayer while doing Hagbah and Gelilah and then packing, we left around 3:30 PM to drive to the Schaffers, where Rich was kind enough to drop us at JFK instead of spending $300 on parking for 9 days. Di called on the Bluetooth on the way over, reminding us of the poolside bar they hit on the top of a hotel on the Barcelona beach.

The Delta flight consisted of watching Interstellar while eating beef airline food and drinking a Heinie, then sleeping on/off for 2 ½ hrs., then waking up for a frozen bagel/yogurt while watching Louis CK’s “Oh My G-d”.

Wednesday, May 20^th – Saturday May 22^nd: Reflections on Barcelona

Upon arrival into BCN we were greeted by Ramon, a Spanish version of Grandpa Marty who took us in a very cool Mercedes with blue pinstripe interior lighting to our Marriott AC Irla Hotel in the Eixample district, a residential area about 20 min (tops) from the action, which gave us a chance to see how the locals lived. Felt like Upper East Side (60s-70s) between Mad and 1^st.

Then we got a call from our guide Patrick’s wife Monica, who informed Carol that; she would provide the tour not him, and she could meet us an hour earlier if we wanted, which we were fine with as we were in a dream-like state after 2 hours of sleep and didn’t know how much we had left in the tank.

So with about 45 minutes to refuel we walked 3 blocks down Calvert to “Crepes Barcelona” where Carol had Spinach/Mushroom/Brie, I had Mushroom/Brie, and 2 Café Americans which were delish.

Then Monica picked us up with Ramon, 4 months after having her kid, born in Barcelona, college educated, had lived 4 yrs. In England then came back home, the first of the passionate Catalonians we’d engage.

We started in the heart of town viewing Gaudi’s Casa Mila, then the “Block of Discord” across the street. 3 buildings which defined the Moderniste era of the late 1800s that made Barcelona famous which included one Gaudi “Casa Batllo” – a great mixture of the incredible Mr. Whipple done in ceramic tile - and two other buildings “Casa Amatller” and “Casa Lleo Morera” containing Arabic ceramics with classic Roman sensibility. It was our first glimpse at Gaudi’s unique organic individualism, as well as Middle Eastern influence as part of the local visual environment.

Then we hit the Ramblas, BCN’s version of NYC’s old pre-Disney 42nd St. Probably 34^th street is most similar now. Running downhill from the Mountain to the sea from Northwest to Southeast with wavy cement alluding to the stream that preceded it, it cuts down the heart of the city in the midst of the Gothic (spelled “Gotic”) zone which was the old Roman city, separating the hipster El Born district to the North from the “dodgy” (how it’s consistently described) Raval area to the south. Why does the South always seem to be the poorest area regardless of municipality? Monica took us to an old Jewish synagogue, to the home where Juan Miro grew up, for a coffee, then to the Gaudi masterpiece Sagrada Familia.

60% complete, while it’s a church, seems to me it’s the first theme park ever conceptualized – I wouldn’t be surprised if Walt visited the joint after banging out Snow White, Cinderella, etc. spurring the thought of Disneyland (if I ever had a theme park I’d lean towards Fertigville or Fertigplace, not Fertigland, sounds large and pretentious).

Gaudi’s strategy was to make it;

- Inviting: via a 550 ft. designed tower that will be able to be seen from throughout the city when it’s complete – supposedly in 2020, 100 years after his death

- Approachable: including brightly colored fruit that almost seem cartoon like on the current towers, and once inside the sanctuary echoes of forest, reminding us that Nature is a primal way this spirituality manifests itself in our daily life (like you see when light streams through a cloud, whether in real life or via a Sympathy card). He’s got the light streaming through the stained glass – awesome is the appropriate description, he figured out how to work with the properties of cement so it can be relatively airy and light in the buttresses and not as heavy and closed as it is in Notre Dame in Paris for instance so the space seems even more vast. The trunks of those buttresses feel like cement sequoias – wonder if Gaudi knew of John Muir? And the sculpture of Jesus seems to be levitating up to heaven – very powerful imagery.

As Carol hit the head on the way out, I complimented Monica on her passion, figuring that she does this drill 5 days a week. I shared that I used to teach and that repeating the same content over and over with feeling is no easy feat. She told me that her father who died when she was young used to take her here as a child, and that she’s Christian, so she feels very strongly about this place. I hear that. Reminds me about how I feel about going to Schul.

Then based on our appreciation for architecture she asked us if we’d prefer a detailed tour of Mounjuic, or a drive by preceded by a tour of a recently reopened architectural marvel that used to be a visionary hospital. We opted for her preference and checked out Sau Pau Hospital. Built in the early 1900s, it was meant as a state of the art facility for the poor and indigent who couldn’t afford great care with 48 separate buildings planned - each one to treat different illnesses and attached by underground passageways. Each building was roofed by uniquely designed ceramic tiles, which coordinated with matching interior ceramic tiles, paint and ironwork – gorgeous all.

By the time we completed the review of the hospital it was 4:45, so no time for Mountjuic – and that was with starting an hour earlier!

Monica was a great guide, enthusiastic, knowledgeable, setting high expectations and not meeting them all, but because of her noble goal, there’s no way we could hold it against her, in fact it seemed like it was part of her tour –setting lofty goals and not meeting them, just like it seems to be inherent in Spain’s culture as it’s true of Cervantes’ Don Quixote, and Gaudi as well.

They each had great goals, and in each case their eyes were bigger than their stomachs. Certainly in the case of Don Quixote who was aspirationally delusional tilting at windmills (the originals, not the farms of steel ones we saw training South on the plain towards Sevilla), as well as with Gaudi who’s signature work is being raced to be completed a century after his death, as denoted by the drilling going on while we were there – I thought I was at my dentist.

Then it was time for our first Siesta. I gave us a 50/50 shot at waking for dinner and we did!

Sauntering down Diagonal Ave. in the neighborhood for drink outside at Dry Martini – which is what I had with Carol’s Chard, then dinner at Paco Mecante, Monica’s reference, where Carol actually saw a “ham hock” being served – the hip and leg of a ham – hoof and all! We had the first Tomato on Bread - a Catalan specialty - followed by a variety of sausages for guess who, and an eggplant dish for Carol. We slept well that night ;)

Thursday started with me going to Starbucks because we didn’t have Wi-Fi in the hotel, a real inconvenience we were dealing with till Seville. It took me 30 minutes to figure out how to get online and required the help of a Barista – always fun when you have to use a combination of zeros and capital O’s in logins and passwords – you can’t make this stuff up. Then I quelled my OCD tendencies by actioning all my Yahoo/Gmail emails as well – including Spam and Trash. Ahhh the little things!

Then we bought a 10 pass bus ticket (which worked for 6 of them) and took the 14 bus to Ramblas to meet Joel our chef. Getting on the bus I was reminded of Wayne NJ when the spitting image of Len Blaifeder arrived after us at the bus stop. When he cut the line and went on in front of us I asked him for his ID (kidding).

We got there early – another beautiful day weather wise – and tried to find a money exchange - to no avail. We were told to look for a guy in a Chef’s outfit at the entrance to Boqueria Market, and at 9:50 a young man named Alberto comes up to us in a bicycle T-Shirt asks if we’re here for the food tour, saying that Joel sent him to provide the tour and that after we go tour/go shopping in at the market we’d go to his place to cook and eat on his terrace. Carol and I took this to mean that he had stabbed Joel to death and would do the same to us after a tour of the market while at his abode. We’d got no notification from Joel – or Chris @ Amex who’d scheduled all our tours, and Bicycle Boy wasn’t in uniform. We asked to speak to Joel, which we did, but we assumed this was Alberto’s henchman – like we’d know if it was Joel…this went back and forth for a few minutes when in passing Alberto said he was going to prepare vegetarian for Carol and Seafood/Hamon (aka ham) for Howard, which is what Joel instructed. Bingo! If he would have started out there – and been named Joel and been dressed as a chef – this could have started off a lot smoother.

So he walks us through Boqueria – spending a lot of time discussing the merits of fresh and organic food – pointing out the multitude of types of fish (squid, octopus, eel, salmon, monkfish, prawns, crabs, shrimp) stating that the only type he’d never eat is tuna from a can – which is the only type I’ve ever been fed – and Carol’s with me listening to this amidst it all – street justice!

Then Al walks us to the back of the market past the tourists to the locals, and describes the same for pigs and fruit – in that order – waving, smiling, saying hello by name to all the merchants. Then he takes us to his neighborhood – El Born aka Williamsburg – where we get a café, croissant and go to his market – the Santa Caterina Market - to pick up the fruit and vegetables from his merchants, including an Olive Oil tasting and purchase, and we pass by a great old-school Hat store, where I attempt to procure a Panama and fail, and fall in love with W.A.U. shoes next door to his and Ella’s (his Aussie girlfriend who’s never heard of Outback) flat.

We walk up what seems like 5 ½ but what is actually 3 floors to their apartment which is gorgeous in the way a large studio 100 yr. old walk up with access to your own terrace is, and spend a couple of hours with him preparing our grub;

- For Carol, eggplant sliced like chips using the pasta maker she just got at home (glad we came 4,000 miles to road test it) in a cup of parmigiana over fava bean pesto with hazelnuts

- For moi a great piece of salmon with that pesto, plus wonderful cheeses and great ham and an unbelievable chorizo “Fuet” over glasses of white wine

While shelling fav beans and hazel nuts we hear about his various food businesses including his new company “Bear and Bike”. It’s his experience that good names for companies have absolutely nothing to do with describing what they are (?!), then Ella comes home – not what Carol pictures who Alberto would be with – Nicole Kidman to his young Al Pacino – an English lit major wondering why it’s so hard for young entrepreneurs to make it in Spain – perfect!

Then we sit out on their sun drenched terrace overlooking an old church watching the clock while we have 25 minutes starting at 3:05 to eat what we’ve been buying and prepping since 10 AM (so much for the vacation head). Wonderfully feels like Europe to me! Then Al escorts us to the Picasso Museum for our 3:30 tickets (15 minute window to arrive) which includes a temporary exhibit comparing Picasso to Dali, then the permanent exhibit of Picasso where the best part to me and C was his formative years age 14 – 18 where he was a prodigy. Without this start to his career I wonder whether the Art World would think as much of him, if he didn’t have the chops to back up his later work. It was the kind of show that if we didn’t go we’d have a nagging feeling, but having gone it was just Meh.

Then we took the 14 bus back to the hotel and schluf’d for a couple of hours before we walked the neighborhood again and ended up at Velodrome for dinner outside. Marketing themselves as being open 24x7x365 and offering dinner and breakfast, it’s as close to a diner in Spain as we could ever expect. I had a sampling of beef and mussels that were to die for, Carol had some eggplant and vegetables and we both had a couple of Chards and Moritz’s – the local big brand brew, followed by a stroll home and sound sleep.

Friday started by taking our old friend the 14 down to an earlier stop on the Ramblas and walked down a side street to the Church, stopping by a ceramic of Lennon (not Lenin) that I posed under, and met Jario our electric bike guide for a tour to fill in the blanks on Barcelona.

Jario (pronounced Hario) was a Barcelona hipster, in streamlined Panama and Cervantes-like pointed beard and biking while holding his little Espresso-to-go in one hand. He traveled for love to Mexico ½ a lifetime ago (he’s 36, you do the math), realized there that for a Mexican girl to travel alone she had to come from money, and that that culture was foreign and shallow to him (judgy?) so he traveled down to Latin America, then Cuba, where he heard Fidel Castro speak and studied Documentary Film making. Then 3 ½ yrs. ago he returned home to BCN to start his business and here we are. His niche is electric bikes, which give you a little push whenever you need it – like climbing Montjuic – really cool. I give it an 18 month – 3 year window until they’re the norm.

So he starts by asking what we’d like and we tell him. “Can we see the Barceloneta as well as Moutjuic?” “Of course” he says, but we also have to see this one Gaudi house and we say Deal.

He starts in El Born and we get to see the terrain we visited with Alberto 24 hrs. ago, passing his market, those narrow side streets, that great WAU shoe place, to where the Catalan rebels were buried around the corner from where Alberto lived…

Turns out the Catalan region of Spain wants to secede from Spain the same way Quebecois want to leave Canada. Here is where they were buried when they fought against Spain in the 1700s with the British and were defeated by the French – and British - who double crossed them. We feel guilty following Jario on bike over the memorial/mass grave that’s been there for 300 years…

Seems Catalan was founded by the Romans who conquered them before they were a “people”. They lived within the walls of the Roman city, then Spain conquered them in a blood bath and it’s been Barcelona vs. Real Madrid (Capital of Spain) ever since.

Jario is fiercely Catalan I realize as we follow him biking over his dead ancestors. He takes us to the Born Cultural Center (BCC), where he tells us that while the region was prepping for their Word Exhibition in 1929 and built this then state of the art structure of ironwork and glass, they happened upon their ancestors while digging the foundation, and decided to show it all. Seems like the whole current city, with construction starting in the 1800s is literally built upon its forefathers.

Then we head down to the water - Barceloneta, whose beach was literally built for the 92 Olympics, and Carol and I waded in the Mediterranean Sea – me for the very first time! We pass by where the sailors used to live, small cramped apartments by the beach, while the rich were up in the mountains – different than what we’re used to. We pass by huge ass yachts, boat loads of them (sorry) and then past a sculpture that marks where Columbus launched his 3^rd of 4 voyages to the new world - sends chills down my spine. Then Jario tells us how in Spain the Spanish, or the Catalans at least, are embarrassed by Columbus, feeling he went halfway around the world to rob others like a pirate, and then bring that bounty home. Seems that every October 12^th is Columbus Day in Spain, but Catalans would rather just acknowledge it, not celebrate it – keep it on the down low. King/Queen Ferdinand and Isabella funded Columbus and started the Spanish Inquisition as well which annihilated the Jews and Muslims in Spain during their tenure. See, we do have something in common.

Then we head to Montjuic, up the mountain – a breeze - with a breeze, on these electric bikes. Past the Miro museum – which we don’t have time for this trip, we keep hitting switchbacks, and I hit my head/body on various types of Fauna (aloe, shrubs). On the way up Carol suggests how Jario can expand his business, teen tours, Rick Steve’s… we stop to look down at the magic fountain, and old bullfighting ring (now banned in BCN for the last 3 years). Then we head further up to the Olympic Stadium. It’s where the torch was lit by a bow and arrow during opening ceremonies. We get to see the torch and a stature commemorating the archer who kicked it off.

Then we head down and it turns out the 3 hour tour that was supposed to end at 1 is now going on 1:45 and it’s either Gaudi’s Casa Batilo, or lunch, and lunch it is. Jario makes a resi for us at Bar Del Pla, a place Carol wanted us to go to for dinner the previous night that was mentioned highly in Rick Steve’s. We return the bikes – passing an Ad on a phone booth (remember those) entitled “Alicia Florrick” with a pic of Julianne Marguiles “The Good Wife”, hug Jario and promise to share his info; with Rick Steve’s and American Trails West and Rein Teen Tours, and give a high recommendation on both Trip Advisor and Yelp.

Then Bar Del Pla does not disappoint – wonderful Tuna Tartar, Wasabi with mushrooms, salad, coupled with Chard and Moritz.

Next onto Park Guell, Gaudi’s true Disneyland via the metro L4 to Lessers where we hop onto the L3. If we’d seen it first, or at least before the Signorella Familia, and without going full tilt (for us at least) it would have been more than a box check, but it wasn’t. Like the Picasso Museum it made the Meh list.

So we take the 27 back, nap for an hour, then go to services at the Sephardic Synagogue 10 blocks away. It was like being at Stuie Balavram’s kids Bar/Bat Mitzvahs, only instead of Forest Lakers it was a bunch of Spaniards and Carol was in the balcony, not on the other side of the same level. It started with barely a minyan and grew to 50 guys by the end with everyone in full throat. Highlights were Lecha Dodi and the Rabbi wailing like it was Hineni at one point, slow and somber, not overly dramatic – he was really feeling it, making it worthwhile to follow along. The crowd was young, old, and middling, with the Rabbi on the Bemah in the center, members coming in and shaking his hand, perhaps sitting next to him for a moment or two, he was Marlon Brando as The Godfather for these guys. One guy looked like Paul Beck to Carol, most of the guys my age or younger looked like they just got off the LIRR from the Garment District.

Then we left at 8:30 before Kiddush to get to dinner in the Example at Restaurant Palerma, which was also great. We started with Catalan Tomato Bread then Carol had roasted veggies and a salad while I dined on shrimp/crab cannelloni. Then it was our final stroll home feeling like we left no primary stone was unturned.

On Saturday we woke at 6:30, packed, went down to the “gym” 2 stationary bikes, 1 elliptical, shiny metal free weights from 5 – 50 lbs. but no room or chairs to work out with, no place to stretch. Then went to Starbucks – good news - doors were open at 7:30, bad news the barista sans uniform informed us they wouldn’t be open for 15 minutes, so we hit a cash machine and got rolls and croissants at a nearby bakery.

Then we hit Starbucks for coffee and both Carol on her phone and me on my laptop were able to get online! And I couldn’t log into Oracle Outlook! That’s it, I’m officially off the grid! I’m unemployed for a week! Hurrah!

And through Yahoo and Gmail I received some very nice sendoffs from peers, clients, and partners, though none from my upper management – aside from the previous kind words and actions from my boss Lloyd. Could be they don’t want to put it in writing, could be they’re focused on end of year/Q4, could be they’re pissed I left, didn’t reach out directly prior, we’ll see. Won’t kill me either way.

Then it was back to the hotel to catch a 10 minute taxi ride to the Saud Terminal for a 5 hr. Ave Train to Sevilla.

Which was awesome! We took the AVE train, their version of the Acela, only nicer. Reclining leather seats – probably Corinthian leather – which reminds me of the Ricardo Montalban car commercials when he talked about Corinthian leather…we’re passing Cordoba and all these other towns that sound like the name of fine leather in cars… also had wood lacquer trim, outlets for phones and computers, very classy ride!

The city turned to rolling hills with trees and then bushes that decreased in size, then eventually flat plains, and every now and then a small city or village, slung low to the ground, with a church rising above all else, as if to confirm who ran things when they locations were built.

Also, Don Quixote’s windmills have been replaced by hi-tech windmill farms, the most I’ve ever seen in a row, huge and vast. More about La Mancha’s favorite son’s creator later.

Saturday, May 22nd – Monday May 24th: Reflections on Seville (aka Sevilla)

The train station there was relatively modern, open, and airy with a temperature of 32C (double it and add 30 to get to 94F) that felt like the low 80s due to very low humidity.

Our Marriott AC Seville Hotel was a 13 minute taxi ride south of the city. Another Marriott in a residential neighborhood. This one felt like Jamaica Estates, situated behind what reminded me of typical Queens brick apartment buildings.

We had been stepped up to a studio on the 3^rd/top floor next to the “fitness center” which consisted of 1 bike, 1 treadmill, and some free weights, and a swim lane pool outside on the deck.

Another quick turnaround with 45 minutes before we were met by Marta – who actually turned out to be her business partner Mercedes (our 3^rd switch out of 4 tours to date) which we didn’t find out until the last 30 minutes of the tour.

We started touring the 1929 Exhibition “Pavilions” which were refurbished for the 1992 Exhibition (which coincided with the Olympics in Barcelona that year) which were now used for the University or as Government buildings. Not much industry to speak of here, the main sources of revenue being Tourism and Preparing for the “Festivals” primarily Holy Week.

Seems that Seville was red hot from 1450 – 1600 when it was the main port of the country, Columbus and Vespucci cracked open the import business, and all hell broke loose. They built the Seville Cathedral, 3^rd largest church building / largest cathedral in the world. Ferdinand and Isabella also became so full of themselves that they kicked out all Jews and Muslims over time – everyone was getting along and respecting themselves prior –and decreed that only Catholics could live in Spain, which lasted till the late 1800s.

Seville seems to be doing its best to stay frozen in that time. Mercedes has lived there her whole life, says that there is no large industry or company HQ and that most people are either in tourism, or work on the festivals that revolve around Catholicism. Kinda like Nawlins in that the states, only instead of Mardi Gras, it’s Holy Week, a weeklong festival where the 70 different churches in town aka Brotherhoods – carry 2 ton floats – 20-50 men in each church to and from the main church in town. There’s also a day when patrons represent the sinners and don KKK hoods – only they’ve been doing it for 500 years and theirs come in all colors – not just white.

Also like Nawlins is the way different old narrow streets are known for different things, in this case its either Flamenco style clothing/shoes on one street, Holy Week fabric, tiaras, and fans on another, and Men’s clothes, on a third. Guess this was how it was done prior to department stores where each floor has “departments” instead of streets, and everyone had a little somethin, somethin, before the big box stores tried to take over the world, until technology untethered us from brick and mortar operating expenses, and now entrepreneurs are back on “virtual” streets...

Highlights of Mercedes’ Seville tour included;

- A statue of Cervantes outside a bank which 400 years ago was the prison he was in for 5 years where he wrote Don Quixote

- Alcazar the Spanish King’s castle which was built in the 1200s when the king at that time really appreciated all religions and nationalities and he reflected it by combining both Arabic aka Moorish and Roman elements in his abode

- The Jewish quarter, where before they were kicked out they were the doctors, lawyers, and advisors to royalty. There’s even still a street named Levi

Last stop was our first Tapas Bar where Carol had white wine and a vegetable dish, and I had the local beer Campos something or other and (wait for it) Hamon. Then we walked around a lot and made it to the center square where the locals hang, and had 3 rounds of small beers with 3 locals – Sebastian, a girl named Pico - who were a couple, and Sebastian’s sister who looked like Edie Falco. Felt like we were with the whole town at an outside bar on a Saturday night, trying to have a conversation with these 3 which turned into a game of charades, until Pico took out her phone and opened the translation app – where I typed, and she had it translated and understood what I said, which is probably as close as I’ll ever get to feeling like Stephen Hawking for a number of reasons.

There were also one of a number of large posters focused on the national and regional Elections which were held the next day, on a Sunday – to increase voter turnout, and they candidate most featured looked a lot like Al Kreitner in a suit.

Then we went back to our hotel and had a nightcap outside. The weather was delicious – sitting out in a tee and shorts, there was no chill, no humidity, no bugs, didn’t feel warm – was perfect, which I assume to be 72 degrees. Just sat out with a Chard and Cerveza looking at the palm trees and other foliage that we couldn’t recognize.

Speaking on not recognizing, during the course of the trip (I’m writing this tidbit while on the Delta 767 flying to JFK) I spied 4 dogs that were hybrids that looked nothing like any dogs I’ve ever seen stateside. It was a mellower version of that scene in the first Star Wars (I can’t say Star Wars 1), when Hans Solo walks into the bar and we see creatures that we’ve never imaged before getting buzzed. I’m not enough of a dog aficionado to tell you what breeds are mixed they were but it was almost like seeing the head of a German shepherd on a Chihuahua, or the face of a pug on a poodle, there was definitely one that had a rat tale, this I know for sure.

On Sunday morning we got up and were actually able to stretch in our Junior Suite.

We chilled. Period. Had a great buffet breakfast, then went to the pool where I meditated, took a dip, and finally cracked open Don Quixote, inspired by the previous day’s Cervantes bust, and Carol finished her Scott Simon book –a tear jerker. At one point I hit the gym to do some stretching and a suave new arrival scoping out the placed saw me sprawled out on the ground and asked if I was all right in Spanish. I didn’t look at him or understand him at first so he had to ask a couple of times. I think I freaked him out for a sec.

After enjoying doing nothing in a new place (so we didn’t feel guilty) and truly being between gigs while getting paid, it truly started to feel like vacation!

We went back into Sevilla all gussied up to attack the town on our own. Climbed the Giralda Tower – highest point around – went to a rooftop bar across the street in the fashionable boutique hotel – EME – where I had a Cohiba and the most refreshing Bombay and Tonic ever with Carol and her Chard while we chatted up a bunch of Tar Heels who were studying Spanish for the summer there. They agreed that no one has it better than them. Then it was down to Margaritas Tapas Bar while listening to a large woman sing Stevie’s “I Just Called to Say I Love You” for a Euro, followed by Flamenco Dancing which was awesome. Pretty much what you’d expect, only in more detail and with a helluva lot of passion by the;

- Guitarist (who looked like Hanif Ismail, the Oracle Client Advisor for Verizon) – very precise, the rhythm ebbing and flowing in 3/3 time

- Singer who sounded as if he was davening the whole time, No tight, crisp melody lines. Unusual, no doubt an Arabic influence

- Male & Female Dancers: like what I’d imagine tarantella dancers to be like as well, rough sex standing up with a lot of stamping, spinning, twirling, clapping, and smacking themselves – not each other – on different body parts to the beat

It was riveting. The only things that kept me from thinking I was transported back in time were; the tourists who used flash photography – though the announcer forbade it, and Carol and an Asian man when they nodded out

Prior to the show while outside on line we briefly met a dazzling urbanite couple from NYC, then another were sitting in front of us. Married for a year, she was a digital marketer originally from Main Line in PA, he a financial analyst originally from Brazil. They were taking a 3 week vacation traveling throughout Spain.

After the show it seemed to be just finishing raining and we ducked into the back room of another tapas joint - Bar Estrella, for dessert (Café con leche and chocolate cake) where we befriended another American couple who had been married for a year – Marty Karanek 68, and Amy Fruchtenwald 58, from Mad City where he is a Professor of Environmental Science (yes he think our kids later in life as well as our grandkids are going to be fucked by what we’ve done to the environment) and she is a Professor working with Graduate and Doctorate students – to ensure they’d be able to find a job when they get out of school. They too were Jewish, she with 2 kids including a Jake from a previous marriage, Marty with 3. Obsessed Badger fans for hoops and football – they went to the TCU loss at the Rose Bowl. They also went to Paris when we did in the heat 2 summers ago. They also have no clue why college is so expensive and testified that it certainly isn’t the faculty who’s making out. We spoke for over 30 minutes after we were done eating, and then bumped into them as we were trying to find a cab and they were walking back to their hotel – The Hotel Alfonso – a $500 - $2000 a night place that Amy’s dad had taken their family to 40 years ago on a summer trip throughout Spain (and on another summer through England) which she still remembers and celebrates today. Took over 30 minutes to get a cab, we were told because it was a Sunday night as well as Elections.

Then Monday morning we packed, had the buffet, took a taxi north to the bus station, bought tickets for a day trip to Toledo for Tuesday, and Trained it to Madrid – no Ave, something less expensive – which showed “Liberal Arts” a movie that featured Josh Radnor* (Ted from How I Met Yo Mama) as well as Allison Janney, Richard Jenkins, Miles Teller, and the Brunette waitress who was so sullen in Mad Men this last season.

Monday, May 24^th – Wednesday May 26th: Reflections on Madrid/Toledo

Upon arrival to Spain’s capital we took a people mover ramp instead of an escalator to leave the rail yard – nice touch! Then leaving the Madrid train station for a taxi there were two 12 foot baby heads. Ok, we’re still not in KC. Short taxi ride to our hotel AC Riberto – Autograph collection, which was the best of the lot in every way – quality, room, location, and service! Located across the street from Park Madrid, we felt as if we were on 5^th Avenue in the 70s – 80s, across the street from Central Park.

Again we only had 45 minutes before our tour, so we went around the corner and had a 49 Euro lunch which consisted of 2 slices of Tomato, Asparagus on steroids, and 5 ½ artichokes for Carol and fried eggs with Hamon over fries (?!) for moi.

After a quick dash upstairs to change my undies, we met our guide Iris, a Madrid native, in the lobby. We walked down Alphonso XII to the Prado which took only 5 minutes while she gave us the basics; nation’s capital, 4.5 mil. inhabitants, across from the Prado is a church where royalty gets hitched, the extension to the museum was met with controversy as the style is modern and doesn’t fit with the traditional architecture around it...

Then the Prado was pretty much what we expected, which was a good thing. Iris did a fine job - we didn’t go chronologically but rather did a greatest hits. Lots of Velasquez, Goya, and El Greco, with some tasty side treats – most notably a;

- Second Mona Lisa – the only difference is that you can get within 5 feet of it, no glass case, not 1,000 small tourists with cameras blocking your view. They should provide a side to side treadmill so you can watch her eyes follow you wherever you are. If it didn’t have that optical illusion would it be so famous? And how come this second one doesn’t get more hype?

- Rembrandt portrait of his wife where here necklace literally popped off her blouse – unbelievable piece of painting, as great an art riff as Clifford Brown’s trumpet solo on Joys Spring

- Paintings by Albrecht Durer. One of my Top 10, I’d only seen his drawings prior. Handsome devil in an Owen Wilson way…

- Juaqin Sorolla painting “Bathers”. Where has this guy been? Timeframe and style parallels the Impressionists – only he’s better. Really. Motivated us to check him his museum, which was his home and studio, Uptown in Madrid.

After the Prado we cabbed/toured around the city, going around Puerta del Sol where the local’s celebrate a Real Madrid win, Park with sculptures of Cervantes, Don Quixote, and Sancho Panzo.

Then we got out of the taxi and walked around the Royal Palace to Plaza Mayor, an old public square that was used for announcements, hangings, and public celebrations during the Inquisition, and in it were many stores. We stopped in “La Torre del Oro Bar Andalu” a small bar that was a tribute to bullfighting. It had a number of mounted Toros heads, was lined with Black & White pics of the fights – matadors, celebs watching the fights (Che Guevera), bulls goring matadors, and at the time we were there the Opening Ceremonies of the day’s Bullfights starting on TV. The day’s 6 Matadors (6 fightsd, 20 minutes each – 2 hr. event) all entered the ring as if on parade, then stood in front of the judges. The next day at a bar we saw that 2 of the matadors had been gored and were in the hospital.

Then we went across the street to “Mercado de San Miguel” like the Redding mart in Philly, where we munched on a variety of things; a bouquet of Fuet, some croquets (mushroom, spinach, ham and cheese), some red and white wine, then vegetable Paella for Carol and squid infused Black Paella for me. I had a local Cerveza (Mahon) as well. A gorgeous black model stopped and asked what we had. She’s gluten free and 32, not married and no kids. I didn’t feel bad for her. Iris shared that the previous day at this market one of her clients got pick pocketed so I spent the rest of the afternoon with my hands in my pants (insert joke here) and accepted the fanny pack trade off under my t shirt for the rest of the afternoon.

Then Iris – who was terrific, took her leave, and Carol and I started to walk cross town east, back to our hotel. I had a little trouble finding it so we stopped at a little bar on the street for a Chard, beer, and chips, then started up again, until we got into a very funky neighborhood where my Spidey sense started tingling so we cabbed it back to the hotel, caught up online, and rested for Toledo (pronounced To-LAY-do).

The morning started with breakfast where we first chatted up a couple from Seattle whose husband works for a software company that provides airline reservation services – and gave us the tip that all airlines update their day’s inventory between 6-7 AM their local time – that’s when you find those $50 tickets, then an older couple from around Stanford in Cali, whose husband suggested that we might have a better time in Toledo than they did the day before on their tour.

One of the pleasures of this day trip was spending time in the Madrid train station. Filled with 30+ foot plants and Palm Trees as well as plenty of other fauna, within a Metal, Glass, and Brick structure that could have been inspiration for all our great retro baseball parks, we got there early to wander around a bit before getting on another great Ave train for a 30 minute dash to El Greco’s turf.

Once in Toledo we got on the Hop On/Off that Rick Steve’s recommended. However its delay in departing, coupled with a slow saunter into town, while informative and providing a great view, caused the only dissonance on the trip as it unexpectedly put us on the clock and it took us a little while to adjust to that.

Long story short off the bus we were greeted by kitschy life size wooden versions of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza (which signified the end of my Quixotic experience), then we ended up hitting the;

- El Greco Museum and running into our friends from Madison Marty and Amy, as well as another great portrait by Sorolla of the main benefactor of the museum (which confirmed we’d visit the Sorolla Museum the next day)

- Sephardic Museum where the artifacts appeared to include a Shofar, Tallis, and other artifacts that were (incomprehensibly to me) identified as being from the year XX - the year 20. They were in such great shape that I found that incredibly hard to believe. I’ll check with Aff and the Rabbi, and any other potential Jewish history maven I can find to try to get to the bottom of that

Then we got some Marzipan (this is supposedly where it originates from – just like potato chip sandwiches being from my mom’s kitchen in Hollis), checked Carol’s box for Pizza at Pizzeria Pastucci, then hit the Catherdral’s “Transparente” which according to Ric Steve’s I actually thought was a hole in the church ceiling, but in reality was a window at the top that sends a stream of light down to the alter, and the “Sacrisity” for another version of El Greco’s Apostles. We closed with Café con Leche and consumed our Marzipan.

On the ride back which was not an Ave, we ended up sitting face to face with Tony and Carmen, both of Cuban descent living in Coral Gables Florida. They shared with us their town’s landmark status, and as I know it’s near the “U” (of Miami), I referenced the Hurricanes and it turns out Tony is a season ticket holder for football – and had a high school internship for the Fish holding the headset cables for the running back coach on game day the first year Jimmy Johnson was there, when Marino was still QB. He was even aware of the Chris Olsen clusterfuck, i.e., being kicked off the team for being DWI. We (Carol) gave them great suggestions for their upcoming trip to Barcelona (Barcelona Bikes, Alberto) and the half hour went by in a flash.

Back at the hotel room with a few hours to spare before dinner, Carol napped and I transferred pics from her and my phone to my laptop as I’m having storage issues with my iPhone 6. Never used to have this problem with my 4, but probably due to; having to move off the Oracle plan and onto the residential plan within a day, having to be connected to my iCloud so I don’t have to store it on my desktop, and preferring to not pay additional monthly expense if I can help it, they’re shutting me off.

Then we walked a few blocks north to a wonderful romantic dinner at the Plaza de la Independencia starting with another refreshing Bombay and Tonic with ice over lime - it’s definitely my drink this summer – followed by walking next door to Ramses which turns out to be where all the beautiful people hang. We fit right in with my Gap shorts and Carol’s jeans, especially when we went inside past the bar to the lavatory. Then we had dessert across the street outside where the TV crews were waiting for and then interviewed Real Madrid’s ex-Manager Carlo Ancelotti who was fired that day and is one of only 2 to have won the European Cup 3x. Then we walked past the Puerta De Alcala and back to the AC Riberto.

Wednesday, our last full day in Spain started with a 3ish mile run around all of Retiro Park. Very lush, it was full of other runners of all shapes and sizes as well as dog walkers and their previously referenced mutant pets, a wonderful manageable park.

After breakfast we headed to the Reina Sophia, mainly to see Picasso’s “Guernica” but we also saw classes upon classes of school kids on a museum trip, in retrospect that was a wonderful flashback to where I’ve come from in addition to the great art. Another highlight there was seeing a life-sized Picasso sculpture “Woman with Vase” which reminded us of my fav dirty joke of all time. We also got to see some Miros, other great contemporary artists, and a Picasso Bull sculpture outside in the garden.

Then we cabbed it to the shopping district, which reminded us of the west village, and seemed to be the LGBT part of town. Carol didn’t pull the trigger on a bag or blouses and we had our best lunch of the trip at San Anton. We shared a green gazpacho that was great, the metrosexual in me loved a wonderful Spinach Salad with Salmon and Yogurt dressing, and Carol had something healthy too. In fact, Carol was a vegetarian for this entire trip and she loved her food – so proud of her – you go girl!

Then we walked while fading, to the Sorolla Museum - which is in his house and studio. Seeing his art – was the great find of the trip. I hadn’t heard of him before and it turns out he’s the best impressionist of all time. Comes across as an inspiration of Wayne Theibaud. He also seems like a bourgeois who did it right. Had the whole package. Lived to 80 at the turn of the 19^th century, with a beautiful wife and 3 kids, gorgeous large 2 story townhouse in the middle of the city that was his studio as well, who could ask for anything more?

Then we taxied back to the hotel and faded into the bed for an hour before going down to the hotel hot tub and that really loosened up all the joints!

When we got back to the room we packed, then had our last dinner at El Senador, which is directly across from the Spanish Senate, much to the surprise of both our taxi driver and the Guard standing at the entrance to the senate who thought for a sec that we were trying to get in.

We met Marty and Amy who had just gotten into town for a classic Spanish dinner where a waiter who looked like Ian Eagle (Nets Telecaster) teased Carol in Spanish about trying Hamon, and Marty and I shared a plate of Iberian sausage that was to die for.

Thursday AM was breakfast at the hotel, taxi to the airport, picked up some Olive Oil for the boys and Em, local Vino Blanco for Carol, and some Cohibas.

I tried watching Foxcatcher on the plane but couldn’t get through it – too slow and depressing.

We landed at JFK, taxied to the Schaffers, tried treating them to dinner to thank them for letting us park in their driveway and save $300 on parking but no success.

The trip was so wonderful that that only regret I had was not finding a barber in Seville, ideally one named Figaro, and getting a haircut. In fact, if I ever did Howie’s Haircuts I’d love to spend a summer or a year and open up a shop as the Barber of Seville, and change my name to Figaro ;)

This trip was great, will play even better in reruns, and was a great opportunity to get used to enjoying life. I do a fairly good job of appreciating it, but with all the process/procedure work of Oracle I didn’t get to enjoy it as fully as I did on this trip and plan on for the rest of my life. The trip was a great opportunity to continue getting used to doing that!

Upon Jake's Graduation from College

2013-05-20T08:35:00.000-04:00

About 7 years ago, I’m picking Jake (my youngest son) up from Wayne Hills High, he was a freshman at the time, and at the stop light at Valley and Berdan he asks, “Dad, what would you think if when I grow up if I become a sanitation worker? A garbage man? I see the stress you and mom feel from work sometimes and how grumpy you can get...I’d live within my means, and I wouldn’t have to feel that pressure.”

Three things went through my mind, pretty much simultaneously;
1- F&*k, now I’ll never get this kid off the payroll…
2- You know, he might have a point here…
3- (This is what I said to him) “Well, we do need sanitation men. There are a lot of cogs in the wheel that make the world go round. But one thing you may want to think about is 50 years from now, when you’re retiring and looking back at your career – because as far as we know we only have one shot at this – are you going to feel fulfilled? Like you did your life’s work?”

About the same time, I’m working at home and I hear this banging sound. I come upstairs and he’s fiddling around with Carol’s iMac, laying down some drum tracks on Garage Band. A few days later I hear some shouting and this time he’s Rapping into the program, creating what would later be known as his "Big Dog and The Family Band" CD.

Then in his sophomore year he takes TV Production as an elective. First he’s learning how to use the equipment, then he and his fellow Mooks (they would later refer to themselves as Howeds) create a sports talk show we see aired on the local Public Access channel. This evolves into his creating films around school that would later become the Reel he submitted to apply to (and be accepted by) NYU Tisch.

We also gave him some guitar lessons, and he started writing and recording songs on Garage Band. One day he comes home and tells us he’s been asked to play at an event in town, "The Pantry Party" - all he needed was a band. So he enlisted a few guys he saw perform previously and they became Marguerito - as well as some of his dearest friends. Perhaps you’ve seen them perform in town or in NYC?

So now fast forward to today, and imagine you’re a parent, and this kid - your kid, is graduating college. This week. He’s about to pursue a career that he’s genuinely excited about, with great grades and feedback on his work, from a school that has a history of producing industry professionals. He’s developed a network of like minded colleagues who also have become dear friends, and are similarly skilled and enjoy each others company. And perhaps most importantly, he’s not only learned much of what he needs to know, but he’s also continued to learn how to learn – to teach himself on an ongoing basis.

And on top of that, he’s filled with love, intelligence, humor, and seems to savor the little things in life as well. What more could a parent ask of their child*?

Of course this doesn’t happen in a vacuum, but rather in a community. There are so many friends and family (no not their phone plan) who have fed and/or sheltered him at their homes, apartments, restaurants and bungalows, so many of you who continue to nourish him emotionally, through your ongoing support and interest in his work. From the bottom of our hearts, Carol (who wrote and vetted this), Spence, and I would like to thank you for all you’ve done, and continue to do.

So Jacob, let’s stop and take a moment to reflect at this intersection in life (which is not necessarily Valley and Berdan). Appreciate what you’ve accomplished as previously noted, savor the next couple of weeks, and then continue doing what you do and the rest will take care of itself.

We all wish for you what we hope you wish for yourself; fulfillment, health, and prosperity - and the ability to share it with you!

* To have TWO kids that you feel this way about, which is a topic for a later date – possibly Father’s Day…

A Letter to President Obama

2011-11-14T20:55:00.003-05:00

Dear President Obama,

I’d like to take this opportunity to offer a suggestion that might benefit the country (as well as your reelection campaign). And because I perceive that the following frame of reference is important to whichever college intern reads this before it’s deposited into the circular file, or makes it one level up if I’m lucky (nothing against you intern), and perhaps even warrant a form letter response (dare to dream), I’ll tell you that I was a Democrat for 30 years (although I did vote for President Reagan) before I recently unaffiliated and am now an Independent.

I think you did a phenomenal job of using your skills to get elected President, but I don’t think you’re using your skills to be President. You are the President of the United States. You are the Leader of the free world. That’s what you have to do. You have to Lead.

You certainly were dealt a tough hand, but I think you could be accomplishing more than you have. Like it or not you’re not going to ram “The American Jobs Act” down the Republican’s throats, and when you blame the other side of the aisle in the court of public opinion you sound just as partisan as they do.

I thought you would have learned your lesson after giving Pelosi and Reid healthcare to reform when you first came into office. They used that opportunity to fan a flame that infuriated the masses enough to enable the Tea Party to help the Republicans gain control of the House, and fracture their party along the way so that now both sides of the aisle are dysfunctional. Remember, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting a different result.

What you need to do is apply your inherent strength – oratory - to our country’s current weakness – lack of national community. This is demonstrated in Washington by our embarrassing lack of partisanship and across the country in our ever increasing class polarization. And it manifests itself in our inability to agree on the economic reform its going to take to get the country moving in the right direction, and in so doing renew the “hope” that was the catalyst for many of us to vote for you in the first place.

You have to get the masses and the media to take the conversation up a notch. It’s not about Democrats vs. Republicans, it’s not about cutting stimulus and spending vs. raising taxes. It’s about; we’re all in a big hole together, and if we want to get out of it, we’re all going to have to give up something. Together.

Mr. President, instead of blaming the Republicans, instead of blaming Wall St., instead of blaming anyone, you need to get everyone’s buy in. And you will get everyone’s buy in, by demonstrating how to do it. I believe it starts with you serving everybody, not just the people who voted for you, not just the organizations you lobbied for endorsement and votes, anybody can do that. It's about you demonstrating how we're all going to have to give up something by serving the other side of the aisle. Yes, we’re going to have to cut stimulus spending. No we’re not going to be able to help college students right now (and I have/had sons in college), and yes we’re going to have to start receiving social security payments when we’re a little older.

Mr. President you’re going to have to wrap up some holiday gifts up for the Republicans so they can present them to their constituents - and enable them to save face when they make their fair share of concessions as well. Because we’re also going to have to raise taxes (let them call it cutting out the loopholes, and “modifying” the tax code). And we’re also going to have to "align" government employee benefits so they map to the benefits employees get in the private sector. And while we’re at it, to show us how it's done, our leaders in Congress’ are going to have to "tweak" their benefits so they reflect what the rest of us get as well because the only thing we've gotten from our two elected branches of government recently is a lower credit rating.

Unfortunately, the bad news is that it takes a war to bring us all together as one nation, but the good news is that we now have that war. It's called Infighting. And we all caused it so nobody is going to be able to keep their toys this year, or for the foreseeable future until we get the economy righted.

It’s been said on more that one occasion that great Presidents are made by serving in tough times. Well now you’ve got them. So Lead us out of them. Use this reality to bring us all together. Again.

Sincerely,

Howie Fertig

Baseball, Hot Dogs, Apple Pie, Chevrolet, and the High Holidays!

2011-10-09T07:36:00.016-04:00

If you’re Jewish and a baseball fan, there’s gotta be a special place in your heart for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. As the vast majority of those reading this probably know, it started way back before SportsCenter and smart phones, when dinosaurs roamed the earth, with Hank Greenberg and Sandy Koufax foregoing important games at the end of the season and during the World Series respectively.

Then as fans we carried the torch, as kids in junior congregation or a cool parent in each synagogue across America would bring a transistor radio with an earpiece into the service, listen to the game, and like a 3rd base coach flashing signs, bring the rest of the congregation up to speed on the scores. I bet if you did social research on this these kids either grew up to commit adultery or give away trade secrets – unless they were busted by their parents or the junior congregation teacher Ms. Schwartz, the fear of that leaving a lasting impression on them so they became Secret Service, or TV sports anchors instead.

There are mystical qualities to both entities as well and this year has been no exception. Flash back to the 1st night of Rosh Hashanah which was the last night of the regular season. After dinner we had 7 guys watching 3 games simultaneously, at one point changing the channel after each pitch - as in each league the wild card favorites (Boston Red Sox and Atlanta Braves) were in the process of historic chokes, being overtaken by streaking teams (Tampa Bay Rays and St. Louis Cardinals) in the 162nd game of the season within about 30 minutes of each other. Then in services the next morn you read of Abraham almost killing his first born Isaac and being stopped by angels in the nick of time.

On Yom Kippur the holiday and American pastime symmetry continued as at night the National League leading Philadelphia Phillies were beaten in the first round by the aforementioned Cardinals at home, which came a night after the best of the American League New York Yankees lost to the Detroit Tigers – at home. Both losers were the prohibitive favorites at the beginning of the season to meet in the World Series with the Phils beating the Yanks because good pitching beats good hitting, but that’s why they play the games. Meanwhile on the day of Yom Kippur we’re fasting and dreaming of delicacies (specifically a pastrami on rye with mustard and a Dr. Brown’s Cream Soda on the side, which was a change of pace – usually it’s sweet and pungent pork with fried wontons at Woo-Hop’s – downstairs thank you, reminiscent of the glory days of breaking fast at my mom’s and then driving to Chinatown to really break fast) while contemplating Jonah being the main course for a great fish that in the end actually had acid reflux.

As for the rest of the season(s), the Cards are going to the big dance because their opponents the Milwaukee Brewers' (has there ever been a more aptly named sports team?) star player Ryan Braun played on Yom Kippur (yes he’s only ½ Jewish on his father’s side and non-observant – according to the NYT, but homey don’t play that), and we’re rooting for the Detroit Tigers in the AL because we’d like a classic World Series matchup from 68 http://www.baseball-reference.com/postseason/1968_WS.shtml to give us another opportunity to go back and forth between the past and present, as that’s what we start to do at this time of year.

And the way sports seasons have gotten stretched out – we should have a champ by Hanukkah!

Jobs as Einstein

2011-10-06T10:13:00.000-04:00

The first thing “i" thought of when I heard that Steve Jobs died last night was that this as the end of an era. I’m not sure what the era will be defined as, but the passing of a guy that has affected the world this dramatically is the societal equivalent of seismic plates shifting underfoot.

Then this morning Carol said he was a genius, like Einstein. Like Einstein?! My first response was NFW, and not just as a knee jerk reaction because my wife said it ;-) Einstein “the brand” is hallowed ground. But the more I thought about it, what other single person has done so much over the last 25 years to change the way people live their lives? To change the way companies do business? If you go back to the advent of the personal computer he’s there with Bill Gates, and then Jobs pulls away.

He starts by creating the iPod, which becomes the standard in size, shape and ease of use for all handheld devices (remember Motorola flip phone?), and revolutionizes the music industry in the process. Then he adds a phone to it and creates the first all-in-one that actually works (think TV/VCR, or those TV/Cassette/FM radios you used to get when you opened a bank account). And on his way out he blows this up in size, like putting it on steroids, and cracks the code on the tablet. Even as we speak, companies, whole industries, are becoming completely portable, transforming the speed and efficiency of business around the world. And that efficiency translates into another reason why unemployment is where it’s at that gets overlooked, companies simply don’t need as many people to do the same amount of work. And along the way he’s changed our vocabulary, putting a one letter prefix in front of every word implies it’s technologically savvy (I thought of putting an i in front of every word in this but you get the point).

So once I got my head around all his tangible successes, I started to reflect on some of his intangible achievements;

- Beauty: who’s done a better job of marrying technology and modern design? Unless you fly to Copenhagen where else do you see that? To have any additional beauty in the world is a great thing.

- Leadership: where else have you seen one man shape something so large and so directly? As the book is written about him over time it’ll be interesting to see who actually did what, but at the end of the day it was his name on the line. Often you hear of leaders who are great visionaries, but to be great at execution as well (save the occasional prototype left in a restaurant) is rare. And to do it consistently over such a long time span…who does that? You kinda wonder what would happen if he was President? Of course he could never have that level of autonomy which is probably a big reason why he and others like him didn’t/don’t go into politics…

- Loyalty: for somebody that famous and that ill to be able to keep that level of privacy. The fact that no one leaked to the media that he was on his death bed when there’s so much focus on him, that respect is real proof of great leadership.

- Mortality: he was 56 years old. I’m 53. To be able to do what he did? You can’t help on some level to think from a career perspective, “what the f&%k have I accomplished?” Of course you can’t look at it that way, you’ve just gotta have gratitude for what he created, appreciate all that he accomplished, and use that as fuel to go out and live your dreams, as he apparently did his.

So yes, I guess he’s an Einstein, only instead of changing the way we look at the world, he changed the way we live in it daily. A guy who created a legendary brand has become the new “brand” for genius. What he accomplished was“Jobsian”.

Pet Peeve #1

2011-04-01T08:07:00.000-04:00

I hate it when;
I go into the locker room at the gym, and no one’s there. I pick a locker, usually at an end or in a corner and before I claim it, I check the locker on either side and make sure nothing is in them so I have “my space”.
Then I finish my run or workout, come back in all sweaty, and either;
1- While I’m getting ready for a shower with my locker door open, another guy comes in and makes a beeline to the locker that’s right next to mine! What’s up with that? Or even worse…
2- I come in and he’s already set up camp. Has his stuff out on the bench right in front of my locker, towel laid out on the ground, and then when I go to open my locker, I sense that indignant vibe and I throw it right back, like, what the f*#& are you doing? Although that can be a little precarious…don’t want to get into a verbal dispute with your schmigick hanging out.
Anyway, I propose the following invention to alleviate this. Lockers should be the size of the individual. Just like in the Men’s Department, you got your 38 Regulars, you got your Big & Talls, and you have you boys department. Not bad. Eh? Thoughts…

The BAHG for the U.S. that will get us "back in the saddle again"

2011-01-23T12:42:00.000-05:00

Mr. President,

I’d like to share the following idea which I believe will spur job growth in our economy, rally our country around one common goal, and provide tangible results for our economic future;

Make the United States Energy Independent Within the Next 10 Years. Period.

Much like President Kennedy did with his goal to land a man on the moon within 10 years, this is a compelling vision that is a BAHG (big-ass, hairy goal), but is achievable, with profound positive results for our country - and the world. Benefits include the following five;

1-Getting America back to work. We have a desperate shortage of American engineers. We simply do not have enough American engineers to fill the job openings we have, yet we have 9+% - 17% unemployment depending upon how you slice the statistics. Where’s the disconnect? Frankly, this simply isn’t seen as a sexy career path. We are shown celebrities as heros (don’t get me wrong, I admire Tom Hanks as much as the next 50 year old regular Joe) but the odds of me becoming him or any of us becoming LeBron, Oprah, or Justin Beiber, etc. are one in a million – or more. Compare that to the odds of becoming a mechanical engineer for instance, and earning an average salary of $82,000 according to Indeed.com. And this is just one example. I suspect that there are other positions that are not considered glamorous where we have a labor shortage. We simply need to wrap our kids, parents, educational institutions, and US businesses (both large and small) around it and motivate the retraining of America. Use some of that TARP money that the large financial and auto companies have paid back to (dare I say) “stimulate this” if we have to.

2-Growing our economy. By creating more middle class jobs in the U.S. and creating job growth within the small business community we’ll create more consumer spending and we know what happens then.

3-Developing a new competitive differentiator that is desired by other countries and can be exported.

4-Creating additional leverage in international relationships with other countries. How can this not give us more options in making our country safe and secure and helping to create more peace in the world?

5-Protecting our environment. Assuming that a greater percentage of this energy will be clean based on current R&D trends.

I’m not going to go long and deep on this because frankly you and your team are a lot smarter than me, but frankly and with all due respect, since you didn't reach for this after the BP cluster f&*k (as the timing would have been great), and after you did such a great job capturing our attention again after the tragedy in Tucson, I think you can tee this up now and we can pull it off in fine bipartisan fashion. I think this is a no-brainer.

Your fellow citizen,

Howie Fertig

Uncle Ben

2010-12-08T17:47:00.000-05:00

Ben Golub who passed away on Sunday at the age of 97 was Uncle Ben to me (insert “rice” joke here). He was also my Godfather - and he was there for me when my parents were gone – only it was long after I was a kid.

As he looked at the world through the eyes of a businessman, he might say our relationship was a barter arrangement. He’d give me a glimpse into the early 20th century, and I’d give a glimpse into the beginning of the 21st century.

As the Rabbi recounted during his funeral today, his life read like a Michner novel;
- He came to the U.S. from outside of Minsk, Russia at the age of 6
- Spent over 3 weeks traveling in the hull of a ship, where he was exposed to all aspects of the human condition, and as a result had to be quarantined on Ellis Island when he first arrived
- On that first night in a new land (I used to love having him tell me this story) he had ice cream for the first time. And he loved it so much; he only had ½ of it and put the other half under his pillow to save it for the next day. In that story, in that first day, were 2 themes that followed him throughout his life. He got presented to him what would end up sustaining his family (ice cream) and start his son-in-law on what would be his career. The story also reinforces how early and how ingrained in him was the importance of saving money
- Then, at the age of 10 after only completing 3rd grade, he went to work full-time hauling Seltzer bottles up tenement apartments as a delivery boy
- A couple of years later he started working in his brother’s butcher shop, first deliveries, then learning the craft
- In his late teens with the help of his family, he opened his own butcher shop, and whatever he didn’t sell he’d send to his brother’s shop – as he had a thriving business
- Things didn’t go as planned, so he started selling ice cream. At first he’d rent a horse by the day, and also had to feed it one meal a day while he peddled his ice cream
- And the rest is history

Speaking of history, as a kid he marveled at the gas lighters who would light the street lamps of New York before the city was electrified. He used to talk about how if you wanted light in your apartment you had to put a quarter in the meter and you’d get an hour of gaslight.

It’s hard for me to conceive of all the change he experienced during his lifetime. As a result, our time spent together has given me an even deeper appreciation for all I, and I would submit we, have – regardless of our station in life. There’s no way I’d ever get a sense of what he, and all our parents or grandparents or great grandparents went through coming to this foreign country to give us the opportunities and lifestyle that far exceed what life would have had in store for us if they hadn’t come to the United States.

But my gratitude for Uncle Ben doesn’t end there. He also gave me a roadmap for my future. I love learning new things, and I learn best by someone else demonstrating something so I can see how it’s done, it’s much clearer for me that way.
And Uncle Ben taught me two keys to growing old (in addition to good genes);
- He always kept busy doing things that were meaningful to him
- He was always inquisitive, always wanting to learn

After Aunt Ann passed away he started selling real estate and I believe he was showing properties into his late 80s. He also became fascinated by computers, took classes in them. I remember getting cryptic emails from him well into his 90s that read like they were from an older gentleman who was hard of hearing.

Hello?

Howard?

How are you?

He also used to complain about getting a lot of pornographic email. I’m sure it had nothing to do with his email address BigBen@hotmail.com (that goes under the category of truth is better than fiction). When he was around 90 he took a computer apart to try to figure out how it worked (no he didn't get it back together). And he would ask me questions like, "What is this thing...iPod? How does it work? How do they fit all that music into it?" Two weeks ago tomorrow on our way to Thanksgiving we were talking about how amazing GPSs are. “Look Uncle Ben, we’re 27.6 miles away from Roberta and Stan’s house, 27.5, .4…”. Always inquisitive. Like that 6 year old must have been having ice cream for the first time.

Unfortunately I don’t have his gene pool as he was my uncle by marriage, but as I never got to find out how old the men in the Fertig clan are when they die from natural causes, I’ll take the roadmap that my godfather has given me to map out that path, and I’ll always be grateful to him for that too.

The Sound of the New Year

2010-09-07T09:57:00.000-04:00

As I’ve had the honor and privilege of blowing Shofar on Rosh Hashanah at my Synagogue Shomrei Torah the last few years (thanks to the tutelage of Bruce Leff), I thought you might be interested in knowing what I think about when I’m blowing;

1-Don’t mess up

2-Realize that when Peter Sklar times me on Tekiah Godolah his watch runs just a little fast

3-Tekiah – the first in the series. I know the literal translation is “blast” but for me this sounds more like, “Hello, is there anybody out there? Anybody home? It’s time to wake up team Shomrei Torah, the end of the year is here (of course it also sounds a lot like my other team - the Minnesota Viking’s horn blast that they play at the Metrodome during football games http://www.kansasviking.com/downloads.html - but I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to go deep on my other allegiance during high holiday services…)

4-Shevarim – the 3 blasts. Again I understand the literal translation means “broken”, but to me this is all about repetition. This repeating is a reminder to think back on the year. What did I do? Where did I meet my goals? Where did I screw up? (It also sounds a little like the blasts you used to hear about 5 years ago during those Ricola cough drop commercials – but I might be alone on that one) http://search.yahoo.com/search?p=ricolah+cough+drop+commercials&ei=UTF-8&fr=chr-greentree_ff&type=302398

5-Teruah - this stands for "alarm" the nine staccato blasts that denote urgency. To me this means – ok so what am I gonna do about it? What actions am I going to take to make this year better for me and those I touch, family and otherwise? How am I going to spread the love? Pick your metaphor; the clock is ticking, the sand is falling through the hourglass, the train’s leaving the station, we’re chasing daylight, and my personal favorite, act as if your hair’s on fire (and no, that’s not how I lost it). And…

6-Tekiah Godolah – “the great blast“ or as I think about it – the money blast. It seems that’s what everyone mentions the most, but to me it symbolizes that my goal is to put every last breath into trying to be the best person I can be. For me, my family, and my community; large and small. And the reason I do a 360 while I blow it, is so everyone can hear a portion of the blast directly in their ear.

So that’s it; Wake up. What did I do with this year? How am I going to act to make next year better! And represent the congregation to show the strength we all have to get whatever it is that’s important to us - done…

My Review of Mens New Balance 993 Running Shoe

2010-06-04T07:44:00.001-04:00

Originally submitted at Road Runner Sports

Men's NEW BALANCE® 993 :: For years, this running shoe has given you reliable support, resilient cushioning, and maximum durability. Now the men's New Balance® 993 gives you all that in fresh design that's over an 1 ounce lighter! Made in USA in 76 size and width combinations....

I buy a pair of 993s every 3 months!

By Hank from Wayne, NJ on 6/4/2010

Sizing: Feels true to size

Width: Feels true to width

Arch Type: Average Arch

Pros: Comfortable, Durable, Pronation Control, Cushions Impact

Cons: Heavy

Best Uses: With Orthotics/Inserts

Describe Yourself: Avid Athlete

I've got 235 lbs. that pound on these running 15 miles a week mostly on asphalt and they take a lick and keep on kicking. Great as a stability shoe as well. They're heavy but so am I. If you're a big lug that's not built for speed but you put in the miles so you can still eat whatever you want, these are the shoes for you. Best to have two pair, switch off every time you run and replace one pair every three months.

(legalese)

You Can’t Make This S&!t Up - 2

2010-01-19T07:49:00.009-05:00

All dialogue reported verbatim on on January 17-18 2010;

From Queens Boy (based on the Minnesota Vikings 34-3 rout of the Dallas Cowboys) to a large distribution list of family and friends who are aware of his longstanding allegiance to the Vikes…

“GO VIKES! YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Tommie A

“The big font doesn't fool us. It was a decent win against an inferior opponent. Too bad they won't be in the Big Game against the J-E-T-S Jets Jets Jets!”

Lonnie H

“Boy! You guys are tough. And even if you didn't like the way Favre dissed the Jets, you must admit, aside from Queens Boy how many other guys you know who are forty could play 60 minutes like Favre.”

Jeff M

“I am 52 and I am better than all of them! I can still throw 70 yards and more importantly I can f#*k 4 times in a night and shoot 4 loads! Can Favre or Fertig say that?”

Dori K

“hey jeff m, what are you doing tonight?”

Len N

“I don't know who the f#*k you are, but your full of s&!t and I am not talking about throwing a football!!!!!!!!!!”

Jeff M

“If you knew me you wouldn't say that! Ask Tommie, Queens Boy & Lonnie! They each get a load from me and I save the 4th for new comers like you!”

Queens Boy

“WHOA NELLIE!

1 -Tom, Lonnie, Jeff, Len, and Dori: thanks so much for once again proving that real life is better than fiction!

2- I personally apologize to all that I've emailed on your work/corporate addresses - and to my Rabbi (oy) on the visceral nature of some of these responses ;-) Please send me your personal emails (for those of you that haven't already) and I will make the changes...”

Jeff M

“Rabbi I apologize if the language offended you but I thank your boss for endowing me with wonderful features and abilities!”

You Can’t Make This S&!t Up

2009-10-24T14:28:00.006-04:00

Whenever I get into a 3 – way conversation with a man I’m proud to call my friend, Scott Taylor, I invariably ask the third person, “What’s the first concert you ever went to?”

It’s not a bad conversation starter anyway, but I’m teeing up Scott for victory as his first concert was The Beatles on Ed Sullivan – period, end of story, check please. As mine was The Carpenters at Westbury Music Fair (I keep telling myself that my parents meant well, “Look Howard, it’s in the round! The stage is turning!”), I’m dead to rights before the conversation begins.

Scott even has proof, as a recent compilation of all The Beatles appearances on Ed Sullivan has been released on DVD, and if you don’t blink on the last appearance in 66, you can see Scottie, his sister and his grandpa (bless his soul) in the audience. Actually they’re relatively easy to pick out, being the only three people in any shot that aren’t girls between the ages of 13 – 20 screaming their heads off (Scott’s sis was 8 at the time).

So it was a “Circle of Life” moment when his oldest son Alex got tickets to David Letterman (prephilandering exposed) and unbeknownst to him, it just happened to be the night Paul McCartney was playing live, on the top of the Marquee, with Alex easily spottable in a lime green T near the front of the crowd. It seemed that serendipity had struck, with Alex seeing the essence of what his dad had seen, the most popular musical group in history, in the same place, 43 years later.

Serendipity, shmerendipity. Fast forward about three months to a trip that Alex and Scott just took across the pond to what for them was really jolly old England because;
- Scott was going on a business trip for a week and got to make it a father/son excursion
- They went to see first cousins, as Scott’s folks are from the UK and had migrated to the U.S. as youts*
- On their first full day in London, they walked into a restaurant and sitting there was…Sir Paul!

What I would have given to see their faces as they recognized him, went up to him and shared this story, and as they walked away (he wouldn’t take a picture, didn’t know Scottie from Adam, didn’t want where he frequented to be publicized) overheard him say to one of his grand-kids, "Did you hear that! Did you hear that!"

* Not a typo, just homage to Fred Gwynne in “My Cousin Vinnie”

If you’ve got another example of real life kicking the crap out of fiction, let’s hear it!

109

2009-05-05T09:23:00.006-04:00

When I told my family/friends I was going to my junior high school reunion they looked at me like I had three eyes, primarily because they haven’t made that stop in the Wayback Machine http://www.toonopedia.com/peabody.htm. Many of them commented on how they didn’t even remember many people from that far back, let alone stay in touch with them.

I/we did.

Seeing everyone on Saturday night, May 2nd, 2009 felt more than special, it felt unique. Once, twice, maybe three times in a lifetimeish, made possible for two reasons.

First, the environment that motivated us to get together when so many others don’t after 36 years. An environment fostered by the administration and teachers that managed it, and we were fortunate enough to have two of our most beloved representatives with us in Mr. Reginald Landau, Assistant Principal and Mr. Allen Stier, Music Teacher.

When I picture Mr. Landau, the snapshot’s in Ms. Marzulli/Mrs. Farmulare’s 7th grade Math/Homeroom class, wearing a grey 3-piece suit (think “Clyde” Frazier sounding like the “Cos” talking about education - on steroids - then read paragraph 6 of this Daily News editorial www.nydailynews.com/archives/opinions/1995/06/20/1995-06-20_______and_make_this_chancell.html ). Putting his thumbs under his vest by the armpits, striking a masterly pose, he asks, “How are my cherubs doing today?” .

A wise man, very precise in his vocabulary, he always seemed to be thinking three steps ahead of us (which probably meant at least one step ahead of the teachers). Even the night of the reunion, when he’d ask anyone of us open ended questions, we’d be afraid to answer. Indirectly, through his presence and sublime delegation (more on that in a moment) he made us (me anyway) smart (it’s a relative term). Period. End of sentence.

I recall the day in 9th grade when he came to me and said “Fertig, I need you for two periods before lunch” (the good news), and then walked me to the cafeteria where he handed me a pencil, paper, and tape measure? Turns out I had to measure the entire 9th grade class for their caps and gowns, which really turned out to be a lesson in hair maintenance (the not so good news). With the wonderful diversity in our school, by the time I was done, my hands could wax a limo. And of course who did I get near the end? Barnett Crawford (the bad news). All I needed was to pull the tape measure too tight around his fro. I had a vision of Mr. Flug presiding over my funeral and calling, “Barnett Crawford 7-12 up to the mike” just like he did most days at lunch.

When I think of Mr. Stier, I get multiple images. The name Charles Ives, with each letter written separately on yellow construction paper over the instrument room door. Ives was a modern American composer by night and an insurance salesman by day. He brought home the bacon but kept his passion, and so did Allen Stier. I think of a certain smile, right after he tapped the baton and right before we started to play, like a little kid who might get what he wanted for the holidays, but then again might not.

Somewhere during the 8th grade Mr. Stier either had a renewed interest in guitar, or thought it would add to our sound, and he started playing with us in the jazz band during performances, becoming even closer to some of us – a player/coach. I can’t quantify it, but bottom line, he was everybody’s favorite teacher, and the bands didn’t sound ½ bad (yes I’m trying not to sound biased). We wanted to play for him. He cared.

And he pushed us. The hell with “Plink, Plank, Plunk”, we were playing “Night on Bald Mountain” by Mussorgsky from the movie “Fantasia”. And when the trumpets couldn’t play quiet enough (near the end of the piece, after the storm), he came to the back of the room with me, Bill Robinson, Mike Desimone, and Byron Williams*, and said, “You know how after you get done kissing a girl? After the excitement? When you feel really calm? That’s what this should sound like.”, only thing was, because we weren’t David Hanson or Michael Sada (the only two guys who knew what that was like, hell, they had probably had their drivers licenses by then), we had no idea what he was talking about.

The second factor that made the evening memorable was us. Whether we see each other regularly like Aff (Tom), The Captain (Pete Marchelos), Hesh (aka Howard Alan Hoffman, hell, Hesh and The Captain are like me and Mrs. Jones), and me, once every decade or so like me and Mitch Seiler, or once every thirty six years (which is how long it’s been since we’ve graduated), which means if we do this in another 36 years we’ll be 86 (that‘s older than Mr. Landau and Mr. Stier now! - kidding sirs), there’s a bond I felt when I looked into everyones eyes, a shared history that in the grand scheme of things few of us on the planet are fortune enough to experience, that we’ll always have.

So here’s to us!
Here’s to 109!
And here’s to the next reunion (may it be in less than 36 years)!

Also, just as I’ve shared a couple of my memories, I’m remised that we all didn’t share them during coffee and dessert (I suggested it to Janice. How come you didn’t remind us to do this? You’ve got three men in your house that if they stood on each other’s shoulders would be taller than the Freedom Tower if they built it, you could have gotten us to do this!). So, if any memories of moments, teachers, or classic scenarios come to mind, like Chris Poulios at lunch growling “Take a seat Flugie”, or me (I was not alone) repeatedly filling Barry Levine’s black cons with fruit salad and quintuple knotting them to the cafeteria table (where in the world is Barry Levine? probably teaching nuclear fusion at MIT), perhaps we can share those on the Facebook site, or click on the pencil below and I will post them there…

* hell of an artist, he used to read The Boston Strangler during class and draw amazing pictures of naked ½ bodies - either top or bottom - reconnected in erotic combinations that I still can’t fathom.

Better Than Iowa

2009-04-05T07:49:00.004-04:00

As those of you who read this Blog know, I’ve been smartin’ about the way the Mets handled the dismantling of Shea Stadium.

Imagine your extended family was giving an old ugly uncle of yours euthanasia. He probably could have held on for a few more years, but his immediate (adopted) family wanted to put him out of their misery. They had a party celebrating all the great things the rest of his family did that he was a part of, but they didn’t mention the tomatoes he planted for many years, the bright blue and orange squared accessories he used to like to wear in his youth before the family decided to dress him in their favorite shade of blue, or the way he used to rearrange his seats when yo came to visit, depending upon whether you wanted to watch baseball or football. The family didn’t focus on him, they didn’t want you to spend much time on him, and they certainly weren’t going to give you a real opportunity to put a period at the end of that sentence.

Sure we said good bye to the Mets at Shea with Tom Terrific and Piazza closing the centerfield gates, but we didn’t say goodbye to Shea itself, and that stuck in my craw… until Friday night.

Thanks to Rich “Chubs” Schaffer, I got to ride shotgun on the opening night of CitiField. We came in at leftfield (formerly Gate A), went up the escalator to the field level (Section 128 - gotta get used to the new naming conventions) and walked in the open air promenade to look at the place. I'll always remember the minute I spent looking out at centerfield, with those 2 big scoreboards, and all that wrought iron and brick. It kinda felt like the first night Spence was born, watching him in the nursery from behind the glass, settling in for his first night’s sleep, and falling in love with him. That’s how it felt looking at CitiField for the first time. I’m over Shea. I’m home.

I felt like I was looking at all those pictures of Ebbets Field (minus Symphony Sid). Take that bandbox, put it on steroids, and open the decks up. It’s like the Wilpons went to Baltimore, San Franciso, Philly, Cleveland, Petco and DC and said, I'll take one of these, and that, and a couple of those, and…

they've successfully “retro”ed Ebbets Field.

All night, as Rich and I explored the park – along with everyone else (no one stayed in their seats), it was like we were all giddy kids on unguided tours bumping into other. A buncha 50+ year old guys with the same shit eating grins. All over the place you heard derivations of, “the hell with Iowa, THIS is heaven”!

I can’t sit in the ballpark I went to with my dad, cause neither of them are here anymore, but I can sit in a newer version of the ballpark my father grew up in, living a newer version of what he saw. It’s probably as close to time travel as I’m going to get to (aside from watching an episode of LOST).

So the lesson (I've relearned again) is, whenever one thing ends, something else begins, and that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Now, to apply that to the rest of my life, but how bout you? What are your memories of Shea? What lemons have you/are you turning to lemonade?

Invention: The Retractable Steering Column

2009-02-24T20:58:00.002-05:00

The last steering wheel innovation that comes to mind is the tilt, which was great for my 36” inseam. Now after 33 years of driving, it’s dawned on me that while I have a 36” sleeve as well (what a well proportioned guy I am!), when my legs are at a comfortable distance from the pedal, my arms feel too far from the wheel, and when my arms are at a comfortable distance from the wheel, my legs are cramped, hence the need for said retractable steering column.

Thoughts?

New Years 2009

2009-01-06T09:31:00.003-05:00

This year New Years felt a little anticlimactic. I don’t know if it was because of the state the economy, the fact that there’s no short term fix in sight, or because New Years came early this year.

When I think of New Years, I picture TV shots of throngs of people celebrating in the center of large cities, capped by a climactic moment with great displays of emotion. I think the reason December 31st didn’t feel like New Years is because it actually took place about two months prior, on November 4th, 2008. Instead of “rockin” in another New Years with Dick Clark (can you believe that guy?), we ushered in a New Era with Barack Obama.

I didn’t hear a lot of friends or family members talk about resolutions this year. It feels like everyone is deferring their personal goals to the President–Elect’s hopes for us as a country.

Maybe it’s just me, but when I think of New Years, I think of Times Square, which is next to Broadway in New York. Since Obama’s been elected, I feel like we’re listening to/watching a long overture at a Broadway show who’s curtain won’t go up until January 20th.

Here’s hoping we get a musical.

NEIL

2008-12-24T10:15:00.003-05:00

Saw Neil Young on 12.15.08 at MSG (Wilco opened) with Mike Toben, Tom Afflerbach and his friend John. It was a(nother) religious experience. I’ve been to this church 5 times before:

o Stills & Young with Aff at Nassau Coliseum (July 76)
o Rust Never Sleeps with Mitch Seiler at Nassau Coliseum (October 78)
o Neil with The MGs (Booker T’s) with Mike Toben at Jones Beach in the pouring rain – Aff & John were there (early 90s)
o Neil with Crazy Horse (Pretenders opened), at with Mike at Jones Beach (late 90s)
o Neil with Crazy Horse doing Greendale w FF at Radio City (2005?)

What made last night sacred? Imagine 18,000 strong at the Garden, singing lyrics not only to the chorus, but to the stanzas of Powderfinger, Cortez, Heart of Gold, etc… Picture “Day in the Life” as the encore, and during that last dissonant chord, he pulls the strings out of the bridge of his guitar, whips them against the fret board, then leans his guitar against a speaker and walks off the stage…..

Though I tried to keep a set list of the show, I couldn’t read my writing afterwords so here’s the gleanings from various reviews (with help from Tommy A and in no apparent order except the encore):

My, My, Hey, Hey, Powderfinger, Cortez, Light a Candle, Fuel Line, Hit the Road and Go to Town, Heart of Gold, Old Man, Mother Earth, Needle and the Damage Done, Cowgirl in the Sand, Rocking in the Free World, A Day in the Life.

The anecdotal consensus is, you either love Neil or you hate him. A lot of my friends wonder, "What’s the big whoop? He sounds like a cat, and only plays three chord songs (so I’m told)." So why has he been so popular going on 40 years? Why does he sound so vital to so many people (including me)? One word:

Essence

Defined in Webster’s Dictionary as “The constituent elementary notions which constitute a complex notion, and must be enumerated to define it; sometimes called the nominal essence.The constituent quality or qualities which belong to any object, or class of objects, or on which they depend for being what they are (distinguished as real essence); the real being, divested of all logical accidents; that quality which constitutes or marks the true nature of anything; distinctive character; hence, virtue or quality of a thing, separated from its grosser parts.”

Translated - no BS. He wears his heart on his sleeve with lyrics that ring true whether they're truths or stories, his musical vocabulary isn't rocket science, so it's tasty to those who love loud and/or acoustic, and he consistently delivers with Passion (capital P intended).

Who else besides Clapton, continues to crank out new music for 40+ years on a consistent basis?

After 9-11, who sang "Imagine" to the country on that fundraiser all the networks carried?

Nuff Said.

“Living” History

2008-11-05T08:45:00.004-05:00

Assuming you’re not a racial bigot, and putting aside party allegiances (if you can, and this is coming from an independent), how many days in your life can you say you witnessed or were truly a part of history that impacts you as a citizen of the USA (ok, so I gotta throw out the Mets WS win in 69 and I’m still waiting on the Vikes)?

Regardless of whether you voted for or against Obama, can anyone deny that last night was an amazing event that we will reference for the rest of our lives?

I’m fast approaching 50 and my list includes (in chronological order):

- Kennedy King, Kennedy assassinations…(ok, positive moments now...)
- Neil Armstrong landing on the Moon
- Watergate – Nixon’s Resignation Speech (get positive...)
- Challenger Disaster (still trying...)
- Reagan at the Berlin Wall, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!”
- President Clinton, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman” (hmmm...)
- 9-11 (I know, I know...)
- November 5th, 2008, Barack Obama elected as first Black President of the United States

What events am I missing? If none, then by my count last night is in the top ten, and if we’re just looking at positives, I’m thinking it’s in the top 3 – and that’s not accounting for order of importance...

Again, I’m no Democrat (or Republican) so I’m not talking policies or ideologies, I’m talking Brotherhood of Man – U.S. style….

Agree? Disagree? Thoughts??? (Click on the word "comment" to comment)

(By the way, you know you’re undergoing tremendous change when the first name of your President-elect gets underlined during spellcheck!)

McCain’s Next Move

2008-10-12T08:55:00.002-04:00

If I’m John McCain…”Given:

- The continued parallels between the state of the economy and my campaign
- The fact that I am a (say the M word)
- That I haven’t shaken up my campaign in………what time is it?
- That an Alaska ethics report concluded on Friday that that my running mate abused her power as governor when firing a state official, which must be extremely upsetting to her, and as I care deeply about the pain she is feeling, (my friends)…

I’m going to counsel Governor Palin to tell the American people that she has decided it best for them if she steps down as my running mate so she can clear her name (and become even more wildly popular as a wronged underdog, and free up time to drop even more ceremonial first pucks at NHL games like she did in Philadelphia on Saturday night http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/politics/6053774.html ).

Unfortunately, as a result I’ll just have to ask Mitt Romney to become my running mate. While he’s thinking about accepting, I’ll share with him that based on the precedent set by Dick Cheney during the current administration, I will give Mitt the same level of executive branch responsibility, but for economic policy. I’ll also remind him that I’m 71 years old. I think that will help him to make his decision, on behalf of the country of course.”

Impossible? Never happen? Based on this election cycle, are you kidding me? It's money in the bank (ooops).

McCain Obama: Round 2

2008-10-08T09:54:00.002-04:00

As McCain is down in the polls that I’ve seen, and as he’s got that fighter pilot mentality: likes to shoot from the hip (nominating Palin, “suspending” his campaign to help resolve the economic crisis), I expected him to do something else out of the (wild) blue (yonder), but aside from offering to resolve the economic crisis by letting families who are threatened with foreclosure renegotiate their mortgages based on the current value of their homes, I didn’t hear it. In fact, I had problems staying awake at some points. Too much Talking Heads - without David Byrne.

To me they both sounded like parents talking to children who had just awakened from a bad dream (seeing their 401ks drop like a rock); telling us what (they perceive) we wanted to hear: weighing the economic crisis against their desire to get elected and not let voters play kill the messenger with either of them. But we are in deep economic shit, and I thought they each missed one specific opportunity to gain an advantage, tell us what we want/need to hear, and take a true leadership role.

Someone asked, "What would each candidate ask the American people to sacrifice, to turn the country around?", and I kept waiting to hear the 21st century version of JFK’s “ask not what your country can do for you” riff, but instead each candidate continued to demonize Wall Street while tucking us back into bed with our blankies.

Maybe I’m alone on this but I think we the American people are ready to hear that we need to take our share of ownership for what’s occurred. Did anybody put a gun to our heads to sign those balloon mortgages, or to buy SUVs whose gas gauge moves faster than the speedometer? Doesn’t it take a crisis like this to galvanize us as a society?

I can only hope that while that question caught them both by surprise, it’s percolating inside the heads of their speech writers and will result in a quality response within the next 4 weeks, or at least during the winner’s inaugural address.

Biden / Palin: You Decide… Really

2008-10-03T08:46:00.003-04:00

Lets take the FOX tagline seriously (this one time). The winner of the debate depends on what you were looking for. If it was for Palin to not recreate her role of doing an impersonation of Tina Fey impersonating herself, then she won hands down. You can tell that she got an “A” in her TV production classes and that whoever hired her as a TV Sportscaster in Alaska knew what they were doing.

If your standard was who would be better at leading the free world should our President (G-d forbid) become deceased, and/or if you were to judge them as equals, then it seemed to me - as an Independent - that you would have to be asked to take a drug test if you didn’t come out of the debate thinking Biden has a greater command of the issues and of the role of President.

Either way, does the result change the current state of the election? Was Palin able to stop the slide that McCain is feeling based on our recent economic woes? No. For instance, I don’t think he’s going to turn around and pour money and resources back into Michigan, a state that he thought was up for grabs that voted Democratic in 2004. I think he’ll keep those resources in Indiana, a state that voted Republican last time that is being threatened by the Dems.

The real issue is that we’re even having this conversation, that the two sides of our electoral coin are so out of alignment. That we’re as polarized as a country as we are right now. Our anxiety is understandable, based on our recent economic downturn, the housing crisis, the upcoming credit crunch, the lingering war.

My gut says that whoever wins, they’ll be able to play the white knight and correct many of the missteps of the last 8 years. If memory serves (and this is meant as proof that economic downturns can be corrected, not as a Party related statement), when Clinton came into office in 92, we were facing tremendous debt that was turned into a great surplus before he left. Once we get the economy (which is cyclical in nature) back on track, once we get cooperation and resources back internationally, people will feel less unsure, less anxious, and less polarized.

Then only the real cause of our discomfort will still be left.
How do we get the best of the best, our real leaders, to want to run this country?

How do we get subsequent generations of kids to want to grow up and become President?

HAIRMAN

2008-09-09T10:40:00.000-04:00

Dialing for dollars with headset on during a fierce thunder storm today, our house was hit by lightning and I recieved a surge of electricity through my head which has given me superhuman powers – I’ve grown my hair back – I’ve become become:
HAIRMAN
able to grow hair at will: first on my head, then by harnessing my power - anywhere on my body – except, curiously, my palms?!
Over time I will grow hair in any color as well. First human colors, then overtime based on my experience as an art teacher, primary, secondary, and tertiary colors. And then, based on energy that has been stored in my body since the lightning storm – neon!
I will use my hair to take on different personas in an effort to bring harmony to mankind by walking a mile in the shoes of other people including: Exotic dancers, Barack Obama, and Donald Trump (it was either him or Don King – I flipped a coin).
I vow to continue my quest as Hairman, and to correct little old Jewish ladies when they call me Herman!

McCain Gets Off the Schneid

2008-08-05T08:38:00.001-04:00

Tuesday, August 05, 2008 - So McCain won last week. If I’m Camp Obama, I’d rather loose a week in the summer than in early November (think 2007 New England Patriots). The key for Obama will be how he bounces back, does he get back on message and use McCain’s “playbook” to illustrate how there’s nothing designed to address the real issues (economy, energy, Iraq, etc.).

For that matter, if Obama wants to give the Republicans a run for their money, wants to try to put this thing away early, the real challenge is for him to throw REAL substance at the issues, make McCain speak to the issues.

If he doesn’t - or can’t, then THAT'S a problem, and McCain SHOULD be nipping at his heels.

My Son: Congressional Intern

2008-08-03T21:54:00.003-04:00

Spence spent this summer as an intern for Congressman Gary Ackerman of eastern Queens (our former district). Carol and I took a trip to our nation's capital to have our son give us a tour of The Capitol (how cool is that)! Tour highlights were:

- Seeing him walk towards us down a long corridor of the Rayburn Building, one of three buildings where congressmen have their offices (think the last scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark) in intern uniform, black slacks, shirt and tie, like he's worked there for a lot longer than six weeks

- Taking us on the route that all House members take to get to the House of Representatives. I remember seeing a President taking that route, (via handheld camera) to deliver a The State of the Union one year, walking where we were now walking, under the bowels of The Capitol, and on the way back taking the tram to the Rayburn Building

- Viewing the original hall where the Supreme Court met, where cases in the early/late 1800s were heard, most notably the Dred Scott decision that Slavery was constitutional which caused Lincoln (among others) to speak out and brought the nation closer to Civil War

- Walking through the National Statuary Hall, where Congress used to meet, before it grew to 435 members. There’s a legend that the acoustics enabled John Adams to feign sleep and hear the other side of the House plot against his party, or enable him and his son John Quincy to communicate across the room via whispers, and you see interns bend down at opposite ends of the Hall, cup their hands and whisper at the tiles. Speaking of tile, there are gold tiles that denote the spot where desks of future presidents Millard Fillmore and James Buchanan were positioned

- The Rotunda. It felt like our version of the interior of the Pantheon in Rome, only truly American. From the image of Washington in the dome, a la Tiepolo, to the eight huge paintings on the walls describing freedom. Four before and four during/after the signing of the Declaration of Independence. My favorite was of the signing of the Declaration of Independence with the painter (a Jeffersonian) taking the poetic license of having Jefferson standing on the foot of John Adams.

- Going back to the Rayburn, passing Barney Frank's and Dennis Kucinich’s offices, viewing great memorabilia in Congressman Ackerman’s office including a used base from Shea in Lucite frame hanging on the wall, an illustrated map of all the great jazz musicians who've resided in Queens (including Louie Armstrong in Corona), and a sign from Fort Totten park (where the kids used to play baseball and football with DAC, overlooking the Throgs Neck bridge

- Meeting the staff, watching their interplay with Spence, and their fielding calls from constituents and others (most of them are not calling to congratulate the Congrssman) who get to Ackerman's name because it’s the second on the list of congressmen alphabetically.