San Gennaro Saturday

San Gennaro is a yearly festival held in Manhattan and other cities. Nobody I know enjoys much about it but the food. There are a ton of booths selling lots of meaningless stuff, but the focus is really Italian food.

Fortunately, the food can be really, really good. It ranges from street food to outdoors cafe-style seating at famous restaurants. We indulged in the street food (sausage sandwich), then sat down for dessert.

Both were outstanding!

Dessert was at Ferrara's, a well known place. You can't lose here! You could either sit down and relax or grab something from their booth.

Also there was way more than enough nougat to go around.

We continued down Mulberry until we reached Chinatown. We really love the food stands there. Everything is so fresh and beautiful!

Well, I have a reputation for taking pictures of architecture rather than family. So, Pickle, pictured here with her Mom (E), asked if I would take a picture of them if they made like a door. So, here they are holding their hands like door handles.

And here they are as open doors. We all have weird senses of humor.

As we crossed the street looking for the subway, this lady was waving, whistling, dancing around the intersection, trying to keep the traffic moving.

So then we went up to the Guardian Angels street fair. All seventeen of them were there, including Curtis Sliwa, the founder.

We were getting closer to 42nd Street, having walked down from 57th. So, we finished up walking down to 34th Street and Penn Station, via the garment district.

It was a nice day, especially getting to see Pickle. New York street fairs are getting a little old, though.

A ship over a road?

It seemed like a good idea, retracing a trip my sister and I made with Mom and Dad when I was around 5 years old. We picked up Dad last weekend and drove off to the Thousand Islands. We were heading for the Robert Moses State Park near Massena, New York, way up north near Canada. I wanted to see the Eisenhower Locks and the dams on Barnhart Island again. We rented a cabin there, one with some amenities. Last time we went camping the tent was too much. So this time we had hot water, a shower, and kitchen gear.

It had a nice deck, too, and wildlife. This little guy was noisy as hell, chattering away his displeasure at us.

There seemed to be lots of deer around, some with fuzz-horns like this one.

The park was quite beautiful, green and very well tended. It happens to span the 45th parallel, too. Hmmm, standing on an unknown point on an imaginary line halfway between two other imaginary places. Wonder what that means.

There are a lot of camping spots in this park, everything from tents to buses to cabins. But the most amazing thing here is watching a ship float over a road.

This is the Eisenhower Lock system. It is part of the set of locks that allow shipping to traverse the Great Lakes. This one drops (or raises) ships around 30 feet to move them along the St. Lawrence Seaway. One minute you will see the ship high on the water.

In the next 7 minutes it will drop to the lower level. That's really fast, a deck disappears while you watch!

After we were done with that much, we had exhausted the park. About all that is left is to see Massena, Let's all say Massena Arena five times fast. That and the grocery were about everything of interest here.

So when Dad became sick we headed home. It turned out he needed the emergency room with a bad case of bronchitis. He is 86 now, and cussid enough not to be very vocal when he is miserable. It was like pulling teeth to understand that he was in trouble. Nothing that antibiotic couldn't take care of, but who knows when someone is getting a bit frail.

Then we had the excitement of East Steamburg, New York and environs. Breakfast in a diner with no sign, tucked away around a corner from the main road, invisible to passers-by. Good breakfast, though.

Then we got a chance to see Dad's old dog trick, from his clowning days. This thing used to piss all over kids along a parade route when dad squeezed a bulb.

Some chestnuts were in pretty good fettle, getting ready to drop and break open. These are a hybrid, not as prone to disease as the originals.

This is probably the only place you can see walnut being split for firewood (when the maul handle doesn't break, anyway). Dad still splits wood at the age of 86. He has outlasted his father, who had to quit at age 75.

It's also the only place you can see a Dad self-portrait. This is very antique. His current lady-friend does not allow any whiskers. Anyway, I think it is kind of whimsical, in a sort of French way.

Well, with Dad somewhat cured and with all the excitement over, we returned home for more cleaning, painting, etc. Well, anyway, that is what E returned for. I promised to help, though, and I am (a little).

Third time's the charm?

So, the pathologist now says the verges are clear (from the arm lump third surgery). From the doctor, I thought I understood that this was benign. Apparently not really; it was a sarcoma (at least from one of the pathologist calls). That's malignant, the doc now tells me. But with little chance of metastasizing, apparently. Confusing, isn't it?

But focus on clear verges, eh?

Westport

E and I got a chance to go up and visit with J and L over the Labor Day weekend. This is the place (Westport, Massachusetts) where Jack and Robin had their wedding. J and L have a lovely home in a beautiful spot on the Westport River. Funny, I had visited here a couple times before and always thought it was the Fall River. Wrong.

Anyway, this was a chance to get together and relax, bullshit, and share old memories. J and I have been friends for 41 years now (we met when 17 as Cornell freshmen). J introduced me to my wife, E (featured here and elsewhere) when we were all in grad school together.

This was a winy, feasting holiday. We ate well and drank well. J has a lobster as big as his head here. I had scallops. My earnest belief is that real food either has no exoskeleton or has a human process that removes it before I see it.

Earlier that day we had won a sailing race against the local champ, P. P is a natural pisser. The man has bullshit, pretty much unparalleled. He is a good sailor, though inclined to forget which side of the starting line he is on. Early in the race this is the only view we got, the back of his wife's boat.

L was the loyal crew in our boat, while E and I were ballast (about 1/4 ton, most of which was me).

J was at the helm, looking much like Ted Kennedy (a very distant cousin). J was in his element here, wind, water, and sun all playing a part. He also displayed his usual competitiveness. Note the GPS, so that we knew that we reached 7.0 knots on the downwind leg (well above the hull speed of 5.8). Me, I just noticed the salt spray, birds, youngsters frolicking on an island, and suchlike. I was just happy to be on the water with my friend, regardless of the outcome.

Somehow, though, we won. P claims he threw the race, which may or may not have been part of his BS. We did notice that he was in irons way too long on one tack!

In the evening we joined others at the river's edge for the ritual. Most people arrive on their golf carts, drinks in hand, to view the sunset and shoot the shit. Here are E and I having some wine at dusk.

P and his wife A were here, too. They are quite a couple. They have a house on the other side of the river and a "shack" on this side. The shack is kind of a bachelor pad, where P can ride out storms or entertain his grandchildren. You could fill a book with his stories!

J and L shared wine and a nice evening.

The focus was on the sunset, the outcome of the race, tales of grandkids, ribbing about the race, and general reminiscing. Sunsets are gorgeous here, turning the boats into objet de arte.

Animals are always part of the mix. This ones name is Sandy. NB: H and D - get a blond lab like this - she is sweet!

People watch fires here, too. This was down at the rivers edge, though people have fires on their decks, too. There is something comforting just sharing the warmth, the dancing flames, and a nice conversation. This is one of "life's simple pleasures."

The next morning we spent in a power boat inspecting the river. We saw a lot of osprey nests, but without occupants (except for gulls impostering).

Young people have a ball on this river. Here is a young guy getting ready to show off for a boatload of girls. He jumped right after I got frustrated waiting for him. Go figure!

Sadly we had to leave for a long drive home. Along the way we stopped at Zip's Diner, somewhere in the boonies of Massachusetts. The food was kind of uniformly disappointing except for my chocolate frappe. That was outstanding, in much the same way as the championship "speckled puppies" displayed by our waitress. She was cute and blonde, too.

Parked right next to us was this car, complete with crank. The guy at the table next to us adjusted the spark and started it up with only a slight pull. His family piled in and away they went on Route 6, up the hill and out of town.

Then we were on our way, too. Nice weekend! Thanks to our friends.