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.

Chincoteague weekend

This is an unusually nice weekend. In August there is always a nice breeze through the place. No AC necessary! The temperature is moderate, the ocean is warm, the breeze is soporific. This weekend we have Pickle, our oldest daughter, with us.

The beach has not been as crowded as in the past, perhaps due to the gas crunch. At any rate, this year there seems to be an increased focus on surfing. It could be that the surfers are local and just appear more numerous when the crowd is thinner.

The waves seemed more than usually perfect for surfing. Normally there is a short break at the sand bar, then a second break near the shore. This time the break was continuous from the outer reach of the sand bar all the way to shore. There were some long rides today for a change.

That left more time for some maneuvering. I don't know what they were called, but it was pretty cool. There seems to be a bit of everything in the water, long boards, short boards, kayaks, and boogy boards. They were all getting good rides.

I kept to my normal occupations, however; daydreaming, kite-watching, lunching, people-watching and such-like.

Third time is the charm?

I've been enjoying minor surgery for the last couple of months. It started out with a lump on my upper arm that was bothering me. I would bump into something and the lump would hurt. So I got in touch with a surgeon, got inspected and detected, then got the surgery in a nice out-patient surgery building. It went well, though I thought the number of nurses and the sophistication of the operating room were overkill. We got through the "hospital incidentals" scam relatively unscathed (the hospital billed more than $1500 for what amounted to a pair of socks, a robe, a blanket, and the use of a locker for a couple of hours). Incidentals, my ass! They just make this shit up...

Anyway, the pathologist said this was an atypical spindle cell tumor, but not malignant. Unfortunately he also said that some remained around the edge of the sample. So the surgeon politely asked me if he could remove the edges of the scar. Round 2 was in the doctor's office. By now I felt like I was getting to know the guy. He is a really nice guy, BTW. So out came the scar, looking like a little worm attached to a thread. This time the pathologist said that the edges were OK, but the bottom (where the sample faded into the fat tissue) still had some strange spindle cells. He/they (it had been to 4 labs by then) said this was a myxoid, spindle cell tumor that was not malignant, and would not metastasize. But the 4 of them (pathologists) together had some kind of anxiety, in that they could not classify it properly.

I spent some time reviewing this kind of tumor, and the result was confusion. Apparently there is a bunch of nomenclature, but not much standardization. It was like talking to a financial advisor, all jargon and smoke screens.

Soooo, the surgeon asked me again to allow him to get the rest, this time in the hospital. He wanted better lighting, better access to sutures, and a better nursing staff. Today I went in to have the surgery. Since he had to go all the way to the muscle, he loaded me up with lidocaine. Then he asked me if I felt anything. It was pretty much negative, though I could feel tugging. Since he was into the fat tissue, he started experiencing a bit of bleeding (wait, it was ME bleeding, I experienced the bleeding!) He used the electrocautery knife to sear off the blood vessels. Anyway, part way through he asked me if I felt anything, then it felt like he ran a hair brush over my raw meat! That was not pleasant, but I told him and he lidocained me again. A bit later, as he was finishing things, he asked me again. At that point, a sizzling noise preceded another hairbrush episode that just about brought me off the table. I yelled and scared the nurses. The doc apologized, and finished up without any more pain. By now, I told him, we were almost golfing buddies. To which he replied that he did, in fact, leave a divot in my arm. He had to go deep enough to eradicate the last of this benign tumor.

Hopefully this will be the last of it. Anything more and I'll be pissed. No wonder medicine costs so much. Next time I'll ask for an apple corer rather than surgery.

Another gorgeous summer day

My friend Jody pointed us to the Knowlton Riverfest this month. Off we went yesterday afternoon up to Delaware, New Jersey, to check it out. It was a beautiful summer day, and the site was just beginning to gather a crowd. Delaware is set in the hills near the Delaware Water Gap.

The place was all set up for two types of groups, acoustic and amplified. The bigger tent was for the amplified groups. I'm not sure why, but I really like the shapes of these tents, backed by sun and clouds and trees.

There were lots of small stands with jewelry, clothing, and food. There was one advertising local theater as well. Apparently Gallagher will be coming to the area in early September.

One of the reasons I like music fests so much is that there are always lots of stories. Of course, there is the music. Jody hangs with a music crowd, so we were there to see some of them play. But there were tons of other good acts as well. Below is Sarah Ayers with her group. This woman can SING. She did a lot of her own stuff, along with covers of Aretha and others. She got all raucous like Janis, but she could sing a tune as well. Her band was great.

The guitarist was especially good. The guy could lay down a riff!

Next up over in the acoustic tent was Claire Reynolds, a local blues singer. She did a really entertaining set, with a bit of yodeling as a closer. Her guitar took bows for her. Apparently she really loves it. Anyway, she could play that thing like BB.

Jody's friend knew of her from older days. Apparently she used to pump gas in one of the local villages. It hurts a bit to see real musicians, capable of giving so much joy, reduced to making ends meet. In a kinder, gentler world we would revere and promote these people and hold them immune from daily cares.

Things got busy in the big tent again with Cate' Musiq Group.  These guys were amazing to me. They had a big band R&B sound, sort of like Chicago brought forward. I really didn't expect to hear that kind of a sound at this festival. Jody tells me that the promoter, a local guy, really has an eclectic taste in music. He books music of all kinds into the festival.

Cate' (pronounced kah-tay) started up the second theme of the evening, good hair. Maybe because I am bald, I have always enjoyed people with hair, particularly wiggly, unrestrained hair.

At any rate, he had a lot of really young musicians, brass and woodwind. They were great, doing everything from a big band sound to individual jazz riffs. I was amazed and really jealous that such young guys were so good! It made me think I had misspent my youth!

The music really got the crowd going. There were lots of families here; kids ranged from stroller babies through toddlers and young children to teenagers. Everybody seemed to enjoy the music.

One of the most fun acts to watch was this one, KJ Denhert and the New York Unit. This lady describes her music as urban folk and jazz, but to me it refused classification. It is a sophisticated New York nighttime sound. The woman can sing, and she can play, too. The band is good, but you could hear her guitar coming through, even while she was singing.

Ms. Denhert continued the hair theme, with her curls rocking back and forth on her head as she moved with the music.

Next up in the big tent was Frank Vignola's Rhythm Machine. This guy began to make me understand the place of the bandleader in a big way.

Take a look at the way these guys were staying in touch with him for cues. He really led a wild ride, but they stayed in sync with him the whole way. The music was amazing. It ranged from jazz to bluegrass and beyond, all focused on amazing guitar playing.

This is not to take anything away from the other band members. Mr. Vignola is just an amazing player. But there was another guy in the band, Aaron Weinstein. I could just see this guy taking lessons his whole childhood, then pissing off his parents breaking off into a more popular genre. He has the classical chops, too, though. He has played at Lincoln Center, Carnegie Hall, and Wolf Trap, too. When Frank Vignola wasn't leading, this guy was, and he was also amazing.

Then it was time for an acoustic break with Kate and Paul.  These are Jody's friends, who play folk music with a slightly political edge. They harmonized beautifully, with a really virtuoso guitar performance by Paul. His slide riffs really made my day.

So, on to a couple more themes for the day. One theme was dog friendliness. In particular, there were a lot of BIG dogs. The biggest was probably this Irish Wolfhound, which stood above his owners waist. This was a very friendly dog, despite his size. He let anyone near him and people were petting him all day long.

There were other big dogs as well, including a brindle Rottweiler, lots of Labs, and other generally big animals. This one had the slobbers, drooling into his water dish.

There were lots of small dogs, too.

It was a good people-watching day, too. Lots of local people of various flavors: bikers, left-over hippies, happy families, and tons of (wait for it)

GEEZERS like me. I was kind of amazed by how many "older" people there were. At any rate, the music was really agreeable for us. It was kind of slanted toward the sort of things we used to hear when younger.

E thought this guy looked like Mickey Rooney. Maybe in profile? Anyway, I liked his tats. There were lots of those around.

For me, the last major representation was the cigar smokers. There seemed to be more of them in the crowd than I expected. This guy let out an amazing jet of smoke, but I couldn't seem to catch it right! It's all in the timing, dammit!