Tuesday, April 01, 2008

Is It Quirky Or Just Plain Queer?

So listen up! Really! I'm not kidding! Are you listening? We can't get started until after you've heard the tunes, so you might as well listen now. I promise you'll love these guys. Play it LOUD! Hell, listen as you read.
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=15815606

It's some length of time I've deprived all my loyal followers of my priceless words of wisdom. (That's as close to an apology for anything I can muster, so it'll have to suffice.)
I was in front of the all powerful Oz the other day and learned that I am "quirky". Well, you probably imagine that those words set the almost gray matter-less space sometimes known as my brain cavity, into a complete grand suck to fill the vacuum. It did, and once I was sucked up enough to organize what would usually serve as thoughts for citizens, the 'olde pyrate' began to grin. "Quirky", is it? Let me tell you about quirk.
I know a man who has never answered a question in his life. Not one. This is not an engineer who draws schematics for a vacuum cleaner if you tell him you see dust under the TV. No, he'll tell you about fishing with an old mate many years ago and falling backward into the stream, if you ask if it's going to rain. His waders filled up with ice water, and he rode home 85 miles in his jockey shorts, no heater, in an airy Pinto. Query if he'll be attending an upcoming dinner and you get what kind of spices the Koreans use to make rotted veggies edible. No, he's not brilliant, just illusive by nature. Never be blamed if you never take a stand. That's not quirky, it's his "personality".
Another individual within my daily realm is angry, vicious, manner devoid, and enjoys the social graces of a warthog. "Colorful" is how she's known.
The list could go on forever, but it's senseless to pursuit. Everyone has their "quirks", but some are more forgivable than others. Some are mild, some are wild, but all can be forgiven unless they follow you home. You get the idea.
The music. I've never boosted Ceann Na Caca on the old blog before, but I should have. The boys are going to be in Binghamton on April 16th at McGirk's in Binghamton. Then, on the 18th, they'll be in Syracuse. You'll get all that info when you go their Myspace page to give them an ear. I can guarantee you you'll consider your time and beer money sell spent if you see either show. I just hope you got to Winny's old blog before you missed the show.
The boys are very "quirky"! You'll enjoy them as this humble little blog. Probably much much more.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Merry Christmas!

If you happen to be a Muslim, Jew, Buddhist, Hindu, Wicken, or some other religion, please consider this as just a friendly greeting. I still wish you the best of everything you may be looking for. I hope this Christmas Letter finds you in good health, good spirits, and with a tasty beverage of your choosing in hand. In any case, cinch up that shoulder harness and hang on for the ride.

2007 has been a year. A year about like '06, '05, '04, and so forth. Those are the ones I can recall, so if your memories of us are prior to that, you know better than I, what kind of years we've had. They've all been successful trips around the sun, or we wouldn't be here to tell the tale.

All the kids who should be working are. The Marine is still a Marine, the student is still in high school, and absorbing only what she wants, not what they want her to. Good luck to the NY public education system, on that. She's probably not the first red head they've had to deal with. On the adult level, Meg and I are still grateful to the taxpayers of NY for providing us cushy benefit laden jobs to help absorb those tax dollars.

All our beasts continued their free rides in 2007, giving plenty of warm and furry love in return for the comfort we provide. It makes one wonder why they have to be so snooty and controlling, given their apparent lack of goals. Even the critters that make noises at night seem content as they've not been waking us up too much lately. Life is good in Sanitaria Springs! There is some question. however, regarding the night critters. My therapist says they could be in my head and he should know. He's beginning to repay me the $50.00 I lent him to get his Internet degree, so I'm certain of his qualifications. He makes Dr. Phil seem like a loudmouth red neck. Wait! Dr. Phil is a loudmouth red neck.

So far this year, sadly, no geniuses have been revealed to
be sitting on the branches of our family tree. No international awards have been received, no huge promotions or renowned accomplishments heralded, and we still haven't won the lottery. We have, however, had three lovely short vacations south of the boarder. Once to Easton, once to Wilkes-Barre, and the infamous St. Clair fiasco. That was some conga line, but we may never be allowed to drive through Schuylkill County again. At least PA citizens now know how we party in NY, and we're fairly sure they'll rebuild St. Clair and forget about the whole sordid affair in time.

So, our dear friends, have a truly great Christmas and New Year 2008! Don't forget to designate a driver you trust. It really sucks to be found in a pink tutu, a big bow strapped to your butt, at 3:30 AM, on your boss' lawn. It's a humiliation you don't need, believe me. I'll leave you with that bit of advice as our gift to you for Christmas '07. Enjoy!

The Winfield Family





Saturday, October 13, 2007

HEY! Where'd My Summer Go????



Ahoy!

Quite the nautical greeting, eh? Well, a Pirate needs to be a little naughty in his greeting, don'cha think? It was Summer on Wednesday, but by Friday Fall fell like a ton of bricks. It's Saturday. It's 45 degrees F, and I'm running the furnace. In perspective, I had to sleep with the A/C on several nights earlier this week. Hummm.....upstate NY in the autumn.
I got to see my brother Ron and his lovely wife Mitzie last week. Unremarkable, except that the last sighting was around the end of the sixties or mid 1970. I guess we're a private family. The occasional Christmas card or call when our oldest brother "Moose" is having a crisis in sunny Florida, is all we hear from R & M. It was truly wonderful to see and hear them. It was a whirlwind 1.5 hours with very fast catching up on 3.5 decades. I suppose all families are like this, but I'm only in one, so I'm not sure.
My son Chris and my favorite daughter-in-law Jaime, have settled into their new home in Rome, NY. New in the sense that I think of a new place. It's probably 100+ years of age, but new to them. I hear there is a lot of stuff to do with it, but I think that's a large part of the charm of an older home.
Ashley was in a horse show last weekend. Won prizes in quite a few categories in both English and Western, including an overall first in her class. Proud? Can't button my shirt or get my hat to fit! Next Saturday, she's at it again, and once again it's while I'm at work. Her mom, Pat, and possibly Heather and Lindsay will go and watch her awhile. I hope so, as she can use the encouragement. We all can use some of that now and then.
Ben just made Sargent. I haven't seen him in his stripes, but maybe he'll send a pic and I'll share it on the olde blog.
I'll end with the thought that Meg, Heather, Lindsay, and Dylan all worked the environmental clean up of the Susquehanna River, last weekend. I'm attaching a pic or two of that, for the readers' enjoyment.
Until the next time I get ambitious, have a great Fall!

Friday, August 10, 2007

HEY! Where's Summer Going?

Let's have a look at this font. Not too bad. We'll go with it this time. How do you like the green? Well, it's still Summer and things are still greenish. August has yet to burn the lawns of SS brown and crispy, and there are still some blossoms on the flowering plants. Warm nights are still to be enjoyed on the deck with a cold beverage in your sticky little hand, and the artificial stars twinkling under the umbrella can cover for any that are missing in the late summer fog.
I notice the doors don't shut all the way without an additional shove these days. That old dampness is creeping into every molecule of the woodwork causing things to fit poorly, and the cabinet doors are unable to make a solid connection with the little magnetic latches. Dog days of summer, eh? The dogs wish for a cooler time, so maybe they should call these the 'cat days of summer'. The cats seem to enjoy just lying around in whatever sunny spot they can find, and soak up the heat. I've always heard it was mad dogs and Englishmen who stayed out in the noonday sun. The cats haven't heard that one yet, I guess.
I look around and wonder if I'm going to get everything done before it turns cold this Fall. So much to do, and so many Coronas to keep from spoiling. That's a nearly unresolvable conflict. I may need to recruit some assistance on one end or the other of that deal.
All is well in SS. There have been many good times and a couple of bad ones, but by and large the boat just keeps chugging along. Summer concerts are all in our wake, with only one for Ash at the Great New York State Exposition (State Fair) yet to go.
Ash, Dylan, and Lindsay have spent most of their holiday from school at camp. Overnights and day camps have been blended to save only time for a little trip here and there with the families, with emphasis on beaches and water parks. It makes us think of when we were kids and only worried about our next pleasure, eh? They need these times, and too soon they are only memories, recalled in quiet hours with their own children and grandchildren.
I hear a hammock calling me, and a chilled 'Rita' is whispering "don't forget me", as the clock heads into mid afternoon. The umbrella is drying from this morning's shower, the deck will soon be ready for me to kick back, and it's my day off so why the hell not!
If you thought there would be some deep thoughts in the old North of Disorder blog this month, you're doubtless disappointed, but hang in there. I promise to think once again when September comes.
Arrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, May 28, 2007

They Give More Than They Get

I stumbled, half asleep from the late night journey home, onto the front porch, and was suddenly startled fully awake. Something had landed on my back as I'd bent to pick up something left on the porch. Gathering my senses, I soon discovered a very small calico kitten purring and rubbing against my neck. I recall thinking she had probably wandered away, had seen a person, and was looking for some temporary companionship before heading home. I petted and chatted, then put her down and went inside and to bed.
That was my first introduction to "Baby", "KK", "BK", or "Baby Cat". It began an over 15 year relationship during which neither of us tried to tame the other. Soon, Baby was living with me when I was home from Utica and my job, and became a permanent part of my life. She came and went when she wanted, never looking thin or hungry. I'd spot her on the roof of my barn of an early morn, examining the birds nesting in my eves, planing her hot breakfast. In a short while, she might curl up on the back porch if it was warm out, or be looking to come inside to curl up on a comfy spot in the warm house.
Baby was the only animal allowed in my bed, and would only come when she decided to, but was never turned away. A perfect sleeping companion, she stayed near my face all night and if I awoke would reassuringly purr me back to sleep. She didn't mind my marriage and bringing other humans into the house, but when Tucker,the black and white male cat, came to stay, she never went into the cellar for a meal again. Always ate in the kitchen after that.
Last Thursday, in the wee hours Molly, Ashley's little Peekapoo, barked once and woke me up. I was later to find that she was alerting us to the neighbor who spotted my beloved KK dead in the street in front of the house. He was coming home from work, and spotted her laying in the road. He didn't want the kids to see what was possibly one of their pets in such a state, so he put her behind the guard rail. She was beautiful to the end, and even then she looked like she could pop up and sprint away. She was healthy and youthful even at 15 years, and met her end doing what she always loved to do. She was out hunting and roaming the neighborhood in the night, keeping it free of various rodents and pests. Some pets, like our family Lab, Andy, are larger than life forever in our minds. I still look for Baby, and catch myself when I realize she won't be where I expect her to appear, or jump up on my lap on the deck like she did Wednesday evening to share my burger with me. But she'll always be in my heart, and I'll never forget the unconditional love and understanding she gave me. I only regret that, sadly, we can never repay our animals for all they give. Love your pets with deeds as well as your hearts, for too soon they are gone, and only their memories remain to warm our lives.
Happy hunting Baby.

Friday, May 11, 2007

There's Spring Springing Up All Over!

Just when we all thought 'The Springs' was never going to break free from
Old Man Winter's icy grasp, the sun is out, the grass is green, and I'm on my second mowing! Ouch! All the water the ground has absorbed from the past year's flooding and snow storms, has made everything sprout up at a truly alarming rate. That's a good thing. Another good thing is that it's all that closer to Benny Boy coming home from his second foray into George's Folley. His phone-con the other night told us that he's heading this way from 'over there', and will be back in about 6 weeks. There's a couple of more stops for the ship to make, then it's home to Camp Lejeune. He's talking about re-enlisting, but has about a year to make up his mind. A lot can happen in that time.
Chris and Jaime were 'home' for a few minutes last week. It was wonderful to see them, share a meal, and then wave so long as they disappeared into the sunset. Maybe they will move back East in a short while, and we'll get to see and harass them more often. Why should they escape all the harassment? We love them and it would be nice to have them closer.
As everyone reading this is about to be involved in the same thing the olde Pirate is, (mowing, cutting branches, making flower gardens, getting a new septic system, looking jealously at new roofs), remember one thing: You have to sweat a little now to really enjoy those "boat drinks" on the deck all Summer long. Get out and work you scurvy lot! Then, kick back in that deck chair, put your sandals up, and let the world spin out of control. Don't let the little umbrella poke your eye out.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Don Imus



It's great, America! Yes, we'll miss Imus and his fund raising, belligerent banter with political big wigs, and posers in general. However, his firing is a door slam on all the crap we don't like on the radio. Sure, adults don't listen anyway, but our kids do! Think of it: No more derogatory rap and hip hop aimed against black women or women in general. It's the changing of the sacred cows on broadcast media, and America wins. Black women may no longer be called "ho" on the radio or TV. This means that all other aspersions toward them are also strictly forbidden whether the mumbler is an elderly white guy or some young black. Sponsors, tune in your radios, drop every show that promotes disparaging women, and get some wholesome noise on that box.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Not Easy Being Murphy

It's 5:15 AM in Murphyville and the day needs to be set into motion. I need to do a lot of loud barking and continue 'til dad comes downstairs and hoots at me to "shut up, Murph"! Ah, there he comes now, I'll just keep barking while he goes to the bathroom for his wake-up relief. Now, if I groan and squeak loudly, he'll remember it's time to feed the dog.
Wait! I better go to the door and bark a few quick bursts. He probably doesn't remember that I need to visit the lawn for a few seconds before I start breakfast.
Ah, that's better. Now, I can eat in peace. Boy, dad, that coffee sure smells good. If I watch carefully and never let that cup get more than 8 inches away from my face, some of that might jump out of the cup and into my mouth. He knows I love coffee. Sure, dad wants to look at the paper, but I can make it easier for him if my face is between him and the print. I have to keep him in touch with drool. The constant dodging of my beak and wet face keep dad alert and ready for whatever the day might throw at him. He thinks the puzzle will sharpen him up for the day, but I know it's my face in his business that works best. I wonder why dad stopped having breakfast before heading to work? Hummmmm...........
Oh oh! Here comes mom! Gotta bark real loud so she knows I'm still here! Gotta start her day off with a bang too!

May 26, 2007, 6:05 AM - It's been a few months since this blog was started, but 'being Murphy' only becomes more and more interesting. This morning, though Ashley is in Canada on a school trip, Murf dutifully went over to the stair door, stood really close, and barked really loudly! It's time for Ash to be coming down those stairs and she better be ready to pet the dog! That's Murphy's view of the situation, and he's sticking to it no matter what!

Friday, December 22, 2006

CHRISTMAS IN THE SPRINGS

The gifts are bought, mostly wrapped, and the tree is trimmed, waiting for the big event. This one will come, and hopefully so will many others. All the anticipation, planning, apprehension, and stress will come to an end, this time, and be repeated many times if we're lucky. The climax is joy, happiness, and the simple pleasure of the satisfaction of watching our loved ones enjoying the gifts, food, and company we share.
There is sadness in the world, surely. But in the Holiday Season, in the microcosm of our lives we should see only what we need. We deserve to cherish this time of unbridled pleasure and share it without guilt or shame. If we can provide well for our friends and loved ones, good for us. Good for all those who have and can share!
The sadness and strife in the world will continue after we are all dust. There's little we can do to stop it or bend it's path. Entire countries and wealthy organizations have been working at it for centuries, and not a dent made. People will continue to recreate and procreate, the rich and the poor. That means more for both columns, and nothing to be done for it.
So celebrate! Enjoy this time of year and reveille in its hedonistic saturation of your soul. It's what you work so hard for day after day. It's why you worry for your children, weep for your neighbors' losses, and volunteer your time and services to your community. You've worked for it, you've earned it, and now is the time of year to immerse yourself in the wonder of it all.
Merry Christmas!

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Benny's Great Adventure

Ben had in mind to come home for the Thanksgiving Day weekend, so off he went shopping for some supplies to tide him over. Pulling out of his space in the Mall lot, he gets backed into by a pickup truck, and suvvers minor damage to the left rear fender and hatch of his Maxda 5. The tail light is a shattered mess without hope. Insurance info is exchanged, and bob's yer uncle.

That's fine, he thinks, he'll get home and get it fixed. Wednesday, AM, leaving North Carolina: lovely warm day so the sun roof is tilted up, open at the rear. 15 minutes on the road, there is a stone thrown up from a vehicle, and it glances off the glass roof, causing it to open up in the middle and disintigrate. When the rain started, duct tape to the rescur, sort of.

Benny got home late at night, and had called ahead to have the barn open to get his holy roof inside to avoid auto flooding. Good idea. that's where the car still is on Thanksgiving night, no light, hole in the roof, and awaiting work.

Can I use the Bug? Sure, but 3 miles away, a deer lies in wait on the driving lane. Bugs are short, deer are a big lump. The underside of the V-dub got wiped out, so we have no idea what will happen.

Can't wait for Benny to come enjoy the Christmas Season with us. Just kidding, none of this was his fault just really bad luck!

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Keys to Happiness; Though Fleeting


"Boat drinks, the boys in the band ordered boat drinks........." (Jimmy Buffett). How appropriate for a few days in the steamy southern reaches of the Florida Keys, listening to bands and sucking on boat drinks.
Meg and I winged our way into West Palm last Wednesday, looking for Margaritaville, and some fun in the sun and sand. There was sun, and sand, and many margaritas, Coronas, and Mojitos. The streets ran like a sea of humanity to the walls of the shops, with revelers from all reaches of the world, and in every possible state of 'partiness' you can imagine. You just throw yourself into the crowd and go along with whatever happens next. The living imbodiment of 'imprompu' to the most extreme degree!
MOTM (www.phip.com) was in full swing when we arrived. The Casa Marina was closed to the public, but filled with Parrot Heads from everywhere.
Meg and I were working Security and checking IDs at the door before we'd been there 20 minutes. Get right in and start 'doing'. That's not only the Parrot Head way, but we soon found it to be a way of life for Key West itself.
Over 30 bands played non-stop, with more music than you could find and listen to playing at the same time, all over the city. One act followed another, constantly from 10 or 11 AM, to 2 or 3 AM the next day, for five straight days.
The people who make up Parrot Head Clubs around the world are the nicest you'll ever meet, as a group or as individuals. I learned about the ups and downs of living the rock band life, traveling from town to town setting up and tearing down. I learned about the paranormal events all around us, that we pitifully common folks cannot see or comprehend. I saw a semi-nude Viking riding a reposed bike up and down Duval St. at lunchtime, waving to the throngs and creating his own little world of photo ops for the diners and gawking tourists alike.
We drank to the driving live band music, to the full moon of November 5th, and to the breathtaking sunsets on Mallory Square, barely missing the legendary green flash many times. It all ended too soon, and we did not learn enough, have enough laughs, or enjoy enough Cuban cuisine. Yet we did all of these things for 5 continuous days, without missing a beat or getting much sleep.
Was it worth the delayed flights, checking to see if a rented Saturn is amphibious, and spending 2 hours 2 feet in front of a booming bass speaker at a Jerry Jeff Walker concert? You bet your feathered parrot butt it was! Would we do it again? You bet your pirate's eye patch and wooden leg we would!
To my friends, one bit of advice: If you ever get a chance to sit at the bar at Louie's Backyard and suck down boat drinks with the tide rising around your feet and the full moon over your shoulder, do it! You'll never feel so alive and so in touch with your inner parrot, as you will at that moment. Remember: "The weather is here, I wish you were beautiful........" (Jimmy Buffett), as reported by John Parrothead.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Judgement Day


Out and about today, or maybe yesterday, I couldn't help but observe all the unjudged people milling here and there. I went to CVS and there were the rampant unjudged. Sauntered over to Giant Market to seek out some supplies, and you guessed it: Unjudged everywhere!
It appears that more people should stop advising others to "don't judge me"! Maybe more people should give in to the conservative notion of judging and put that shoddy old liberalism behind them.
In CVS, the old ladies were teaaring down the house to get to the items in the coupon/sale flier. Rudeness prevailed, and my already frail and healing body was buffetted to and fro like a corked bottle on the high seas. Barely escaping the household goods shelves, I sought the serenity of the checkout counter. Here was little better. The cashier/associate was deeply engrossed in conversation about Friday night's club scene with another non-working 'associate', to take my money and give me correct change. This when the exact amount they need to hand back is flashing in LED before their very eyes! My God! Is it the green and blue fading into orange in her hair, or her exposed and pierced navel that has her distracted to this point? I fully doubt it's either. Probably her parents didn't judge her properly, as someone needy for remedial manner and work ethic training. Maybe fewer hours on the olde "My Space" and more time "face to face" would have turned the trick.
Escaping CVS with my chocolate, expensive pills, bag full of bandages, and little patience remaining, I still needed limes and spices for my Jamaican dinner. Off across the lot to Giant. Right at the door I knew it was going downhill fast. Teetering through the transome at full hobble, leaning on the jam for support for my pain wracked body, here comes this warp speed soccer mom with a creaking shopping cart laden with about e small incidental items in one tiny plastic bag. Too late! She's heading straight for me, yelling into her blue tooth equipped ear, "you better not have poured that down the toilet, that was you and your father's dinner"!
I'm thinking, "she can see I can't get out of her way. She's gonna have to stop or turn"! NOT!
There I am, flying backward from the sharp blow of a shopping cart to the fresh gizzard removal area, wondering if Jamaican food was worth the pain. Who failed to judge that woman? Whoever it is/was did her and the rest of society a huge disservice. Her psuedo apologetic "didn't see ya", was the icing on the cake, spread on thinly as she continued afterburner lit, undaunted, unembarrassed, and unstoppable, straight to the Caravan waiting in the handicapped parking spot nearest the door.
Oh yes, I judged those people. I judged them to be mindless buffoons. Too late, though. Throughout the years leading up to my encounter with this mob, parents, siblings, peers, employers, and teachers should have done the job.
"Judge not lest ye be judged", tho olde saw goes. I have a thought: "Judge others and let them know your feelings, before they are beyond civility". Not their race, religion, occupation, or insanity. Just judge their interaction with society. It'll do everyone a lot of good.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

A helluva note!


The front page of the Press Sun-Bulletin last Saturday was some kind of joke. A world full of news that effects each and every one of us pushed off the headline, below the fold, and into the bowles of the paper. What was the important issue which neaded the full attention of the entire readership of the local Gannett rag? Some kid is a race car driver! Large color spread on Page 1, newsworthy.
He's gonna be the 'next Jeff Gordon' they shout. We'll see about that. You know about the thousands of high school quarterbacks graduating into anonymity every spring? You know the tens of thousands of drivers out there in go carts, midgets, and street stocks wishing for stardom. It goes on and on, and it is unlikely to end up a pot of gold at the end of some rainbow powered by Jack Rousch, the coach, or even Bill Davis.
It's not like there wasn't newsworthy issues in the world. There's the latest carnage in Iraq, 2 school shootings (at that time, now there's another one in Pennsylvania), and the political morass and obfuscation currently permeating the grey matter of Americans. There were plenty of good deeds done, I'm sure, which could have been hearlded and exposed for the glory they deserve. Where were they?
Hats off to the Binghamton Press and Sun-Bulletin. For putting a 4th page Sports Section story on the front page, above the fold, they win the North of Disorder "Rusty Ignoramous" Award. Bravo! Encore!

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Big Splash of 2006 (Will we be ready now?)

"We better go inside to eat", Meg said, "it's about to pour out here"! The burgers and chicken quickly scarfed off the grill, lid down, hit the kitchen, and the sky opened up.
Rain had been heavy off and on all day long. Tuesday June 27th was a wet and dreary day, and now it looked like the Weather Channel girl was right. There would be flash flooding, and some property damage in lower areas. Rivers would exceed flood stages, so tie down the wagons and prepare for a wash out. Rain it did, like this writer has never seen in all his years.
Two hours later, at about 9:00 PM, heavy footfalls on the porch, hammering at the door, and a loud authoratative voice advising all inside to pack up and get out. The fire station on Route 7 is the offered refuge, and in 5 minutes, Dad, Mom, Ben, and Ashley along with big dog and ankle biter are in the rigs and splashing down the street which has suddenly become a river. Bumping over the debris and logs washed down by the deluge, the Dakota has no problems. The Beetle is a boat, pushing water ahead of it's headlights, to the safety of the local convenience store parking lot. That gave me a new appreciation for both the presence of and need for 'convenience' stores. It was truly an island in the lake which Sanitaria Springs had become. Ben's little Mazda, is taller, and he had no problem making it to a friend's house on higher ground to spend the night cozy and dry.
But, I'm me! The meaning of that, as you get to know me, is that nothing seems in kilter, and each step is 1/4 out of step with the world's stride. Only free place I can think of to hole up for the night is my reliable and blessed ex-wife's home far from streams and rivers. We called her from the road, wipers making no difference, and she agreed to put up with us. Big dog, Murphy, wasted no time in making his presence known. Murf greeted our hostess with his huge happy grin, and immediately dropped a steamy pile, quickly seeping into her kitchen carpet. He knows how to show his appreciation. Spending a half hour cleaning the mess took my mind off my house's immenent destruction at Mother Nature's hand. How did Murf get so wise?
After a night of weather forecasts on TV, sleeplessly watching the rain fall, and trying to be sure the dogs didn't consume Pat's stash of chow, dawn finally broke to the same downpour we felt the night before. The most important day of the year at work, had dawned and I was going to have to be late or not show at all. Your reporter was torn between the duty of family and the obligation of his job. Only one decision was possible, and I called the boss with the bad news.
By mid morning, I felt it had eased up enough to make travel possible, with great caution. The county had closed all the roads and banned all travel. Only essential persons would be allowed to drive anywhere, and in my position, I fit the description. I had to head back to the Springs for a change of clothes, my shaver, and an inspection of the anticipated damage to our home. The Chenango River was covering the parts of Chenango Bridge I could view from 12A, and mudslides were down to the shoulder of I-88. In Sanitaria Springs, the road had become a road again, but a badly damaged one. Many people would not be moving their cars until the 5' wide/6' deep ditch the water had made was repaired. Most residents were leaving the fire station and checking out their homes, to find cellars full of water, backyard pools washed away, and decks ripped loose and rendered scrap. If you lived on my street you had damage. You likely needed a new furnace, hot water heater, and if your laundry was in the basement, a new washer and dryer. Short cellars meant wet downstairs flooring and ruined furniture. A sad and costly day for Broome County, and Sanitaria Springs little creek created no havoc of note compared to the mighty and raging Susquehanna River.
Over 800 houses in the county destroyed and over 2500 homes suffered major damage making them unlivable. There were amazingly no deaths attributable to the storm in Broome County. There were only 15 deaths in the entire area hit by the storm. FEMA turned out as useless here as in New Orleans last August. If you can't help yourself, you better not hold your breath. Many people not only lost their home but also lost their job because that went down the Susquehanna as well.
With our secure New York State jobs, and only a few hundered dollars in damage, Meg and I are very lucky. We have no claims or complaints, but can only do what we can to ease the plight of our neighbors and friends. Very few have no damage or loss due to the 'Big Storm of 2006', and those of us in that category must help wherever we can.
I want to give special thanks to Tom Steen. After the firemen left my cellar as dry as they could, there was still about 4 inches of standing water remaining. I had to go to work. There was no escaping that, now that the girls were safe and sound. Tom took it upon himself to bring his sump pump down from his house, and spend the morning being a truly great friend and neighbor. Meg and Ashley, Ben and his friends, and Tom all pitched in to make it possible for me to go attend to the huge move my residential unit was scheduled to make on June 28th. I arrived by 11:30 AM, and oversaw the remainder of the move, and life for my charges went on unspoiled and unimpeded by the raging storm outside of their protected world.
In the end, the lesson is this: You are never really safe from nature. You cannot possibly forsee or prepare for every eventuality, but you have to try. Get out of the flood plain. Apply for a government buyout, find a sucker willing to buy, but get out! Flood insurance is impossible to get or to pay for if you can get it. Make your own insurance, and cut your losses. Do NOT be one of the Conklinites, or Endwellians who year after year clean up and rebuild, replace their belongings, and move back into their flood prone homes. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
We'll chat after the next disaster.

Monday, June 05, 2006

The Big Event

Wow! It was a wonderful weekend, capped off by a spectacular event! The grand wedding of Jaime Slaga and Christian Winfield was fantastic! If I seem enthusiastic, it's because I am, as was eveeryone present. I don't know the exact number of guests , but a huge crowd of friends, family, and well-wishers turned out for the nuptials.
The wedding was held at the Beardslee Castle near Little Falls, NY. It's midieval motif, and rustic charm were perfect. After the happy couple had once been there, early in their courtship, they could think of no better place to have the wedding. Neither could anyone else, by the time we had seen it and experienced the warm ambience of the great hall.
Talk about ambience, and charm! The entire wedding party stayed at and partied after the Friday afternoon rehearsal, at the marvelously restored Hotel Utica, in Utica, NY. Hotel Utica was an absolutely perfect choice for the wedding party and family to stay during the wedding weekend. The Friday night meal was cooked to perfection and served with style and panache unparalelled in my memory. This historic old hotel, recently restored to it's prime of beauty, once entertained the likes of FDR and Elenor Roosevelt, Judy Garland, and many of the stars of the 20th century. They stayed there and performed there. You could feel the presence of greatness in the vast lobby and on the opulent mezzanine.
I could go on forever, but I think you get the picture. Never was there a more connected and loving couple. These kids share every interest, and genuinely enjoy just keeping each other's company. Their love is obvious to even the most casual observer. The olde blogger wishes them the happiest possible of lives together, and know that they will have and enjoy it. Best always to Jaime and Chris!

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Wedding is coming!

Everyone in the family is gearing up for the big day! My eldest, Christian, is about to step up to the alter and cement a life with his lady love, Jaime. She's a wonderful girl and they're about the best fit anyone has ever seen in a couple. I'm overjoyed that Chris was lucky enough to find such a fantastic lady to spend his life with. Fathers worry about those things, ya know.
So, dresses are being tried and bought. Shoes are ferreted our and broken in. Plans are being made to maximize the time of celebration and merriment. The air is becoming saturated with anticipation and joy. The old man's ready, as he has his best tropical shirt all wrinkled up and ready for the occasion. The beach shorts are properly ragged, and it should be quite a sight. Ha! Scared ya, didn't I? No, pop is doing the right thing and will be in bib 'n tucker for the great day. June 3rd is approaching too fast, and it's going to be a truly great day for the whole clan!

Sunday, May 14, 2006

Where's the Motivation?


Did you ever wonder where all the motivation went? Why is it more and more people seem to need a swift kick in the pants to get themselves moving. Regardless of what they're supposed to be doing, be it their job, civic responsibilities, friendship maintenence, or family life, people seem less and less likely to join in and step up to the plate.
Sure, it's easier to lay back and watch the world go by. Hey, pop another brewski and pass the popcorn! From a spectator's position it's lots easier to criticise, and in the process of doing nothing, you've left nothing for anyone to be critical of. You can always claim you're gathering info so you can spring instantly into the fray at any moment. Let's see 'em prove you aren't.
Motivation. Where does it come from? I know where I get mine. Let em know where you get yours. All of us here North of Disorder are dying to know. However, we don't want to have to go out and find out for ourselves.