MORE OF THE BEST OF THE WORST OF TIMES...

REUNION RECAP 2010 INCLUDED A TRIBUTE TO MY BEAUTIFUL GRANDMA WHO HAD PASSED AWAY DURING THAT EMOTIONAL WEEKEND...

"AFTER MIDNIGHT..."

ABOUT THIS ONE MY AUNT CARMELA SAID "WHEN I READ YOUR WORK IT'S NOT YOU THAT I AM READING... IT'S AS IF I AM READING YOUR GRANDFATHER'S WORK..." <= THAT IS THE GREATEST COMPLIMENT I'VE EVER RECEIVED. MY GRANDFATHER WAS AN ACCOMPLISHED WRITER, SPEAKER, AND RADIO HOST. HIS WORKS ARE SO IMPORTANT TO THE STATE OF PENNSYLVANIA, THAT HIS RECORDINGS OF HIS RADIO SHOW "THIS IS PENNSYLVANIA" ARE ACTUALLY BEING KEPT AND RESTORED AT THE PA STATE ARCHIVES... STERN MAY BE THE KING OF ALL MEDIA, BUT NOT KING OF HISTORY OF PA. GRAMPA WAS KNOWN AS "MR. PA" AND MY AUNT CARM SAID I SOUNDED JUST LIKE HIM... IT STILL MAKES ME SMILE...

ENJOY IF YOU'D LIKE...



Summer in the even years is always a fun time for all of us, unless you are on the reunion committee… most think last year of “is it the reunion year??? NO… AWWWW SHUCKS we gotta wait another year!” but this weekend was the big one. And what a weekend it was.

THE VJ MEMORIAL GOLF GAME

Early Friday morning I woke up and decided to go to work. I don’t have much time saved so to take a whole day of vacation is good but if ya have a bunch of paperwork to do with a new car, the “license and registration please” envelope could use copies, city parking passes, etc etc etc… little things… so I decided to go to work for 2 hours and get all my “homework” done. And shockingly, it turned out perfect. I took 2 hours of time I would normally spend making drool pictures on the floor at my desk, and by the time I was ready to go, it was done.

Went home, picked up Gibby & the Schmidts (great band name) and headed to Deer Valley. The golf course is really nice, the same place we play at every reunion (lately)… they are really great people and the course is a fun one to run around on the carts on. Oddly a few were missing from the golfing party (aka the JOYS) but Charlie, Tony and Ricardo filled that void quite well. Although since the beginning of coming there, they never filled in the sand traps with sand. So it was a beach free day for all of us!

We started around 11 and after 18 drives off the teebox, I finally got the ball to move off the first tee. We continued and Gib as usual was clutch in the short game. My buddies Marc and Johnny k were hitting drives that were undeniably PGA worthy and well, if you had been playing since you were 5 (John) or buy fitted golf clubs (Marc) ya better be able to perform. They were no pros by any means, but they were better than me. and saying that is like saying Sammy Clemens is a better writer than trevonbach… BUUUUUT I was having fun killing worms and earth dwellers with my drives and chips. At one point it was mentioned that cleaning balls were a good idea for aerodynamics of the balls but I mentioned that “aero” meant “air”, and my ball wasn’t seeing much air so the cleanliness of my ball really didn’t matter. Gib had a GREAT tee shot, only to hit a tree and land 20 yards in front of us. But that’s how our long game was going. Gib came through though with chips and making just about every putt you could think of. If not in the hole, closer than john, marc, or I could put it.

After the grueling 18 were completed, we all sat around the table outside the clubhouse swapping stories and reminiscing about the day. The final talley of scores came in and turned out we came in second. Mikey and sean’s team, who hit off the girls’ tees, won and Mikey will retain the paper towel holder (as it was in my apt… check it out Mikey its perfect size)… I sat back quietly due to my searing pain from exercising, as my usual regimen for exercising is equal to 3 letters: N, I and L… so I knew full well it was the greatest I’d feel (physically) all weekend.

KARAOKE AT ELKS CLUB

After a well needed shower and half a nap, gib and I went to the Elk’s Club, a fine establishment for some family bonding and spirits were there to be had. Since I have hayfever, I decided that I wasn’t gonna sing, except for one song, and they didn’t have it. . . . “BARBIE GIRL”… it’s a stupid song by a group called AQUA and it is sung nervously by me, and literally performedby the king of karaoke, Jamal. Speaking of aqua, the Elk’s Club had some mighty fine tasting aqua that myself and uncle pat comitz enjoyed from a beer pitcher.

I saw a beautiful brunette walk in and start walking around the place nervously as if she went there by accident. I thought “awesome… maybe if I show off my skills in front of her on the pool table, she’d notice me.” then like clockwork, the double~mint twin popped in. YUP. The Italians had made it, and beyond being purdy, they were cousins. FIGURES! [Its like the time I saw another beautiful brunette coming thru the doors of the courtyard off i-83… she swaggered over to me and sat right beside me. wiping the drool from my chin I thought “what’s wrong with her? Why is she sitting here?” she said “HI PETER!” Yeah, this beautiful model of a woman… she knew me? oh my what a prize! It was the second coming of Brooke Shields when she was hot and relevant! I asked “how do I know you” and she said “I’m Jean-Anne Benson, Suzy’s daughter!” FIGURES! I hate Scott :) lucky! SOB ç that’s crying, not S.O.B… I don’t even know his mother so to say that is, well, hmmm I digress…]

Free pool. What? One of my many sporting events that I actually know about and enjoying playing was there, and FREE. To heck with aerodynamics, this game had nothing to do with balls in the air, but more like balls in pockets. So guess who hung by the table all day? Not me… TONY and CARLO! I couldn’t win in singles, and in doubles, they couldn’t be beat. Carlo was playing “make it take it” pool but tony had mentioned it was the first and only time they had ever shot pool together. So I let them have their fun playin grandma pool… “hit it hard n pray to god” pool… Dirty pool. Uncalled pocket pool. 5 year old pool. I could go on and on, but I was just happy cause I was playing my game today finally, yet frustrated because I couldn’t be worse at it at this point… I guess I should be like Michael Jordan, err Alan Iverson “I’m the franchise player, and we talking ‘bout practice?!?!?!!!”. EEEEEEEEEYup!

Night went on and spirits flowed. Songs were sung by all and the surprise of the night was… (drumroll please…………)  give manu some R-E-S-P-E-C-T! areefa had nothing on her this night. This shy bookreader has a voice on her better than the diva herself! She was pitch-perfect and her backup singer conveniently turned off his microphone knowing full well she’d upstage him. Sean may have obscure writing skills but his voice had nothing on this piece of artist! Manu literally rocked the house with her rendition of the powerful song.

Tim did his usual best work in front of the crowd, uniquely using a second mic as his own backup to the ol “bohemian rhapsody”. How fitting in a family of so many bohemians, that they have a rhapsody (queen rocks, and thanks wayne and garth for bringing this music to the mainstream) and a whiskey fueled timmy belted out the song as if he had done it before…

And these people joined us who never seem to come by that we notice… lasssshhhhhhhhhh-gosh? Huh? I thought it was osh-gosh-b’gosh… nope, the laskosh crew showed up in full force and sang the theme to deadliest catch! “where the faces are so cold, I drive all night to get back home…” its the cowboy song… oh yeah, “WANTEEEEEEEED dead or alive”… looks like the boys from jersey thought to make an appearance in song at least.

The night wore on, I had 2 pitchers of the usual (H20) and fun was had by all. Pete Jr grabbed the mike and asked for alls attention. It took some time cause most thought some idiot left his interior light on in his new car (license GFE-6728… not mentioning any names though but it was a blue accord with freshly copied “license and registration” paperwork… hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm)

The room quieted down and it was announced at about 11:22pm that at 11:07pm Friday night, we were at the wrong party. It was grampa’s birthday and grampa got the best gift of all. The doorbell finally rang and the girl next door was finally on his doorstep. He hugged rita and carried her over the threshold of their heavenly abode. They walked over to hang out with aunt patty and aunt mary Theresa, and the cotton candy haired fellow, uncle ange. They had a birthday party in grampa’s honor and hung out with uncle leon and aunt gladys, chilled with aunt connie and uncle vinnie, and even uncle joe brought some baileys along with some of gramp’s favorite, 7n7s.

Those of us at the elk’s club here on earth had a different feeling though. our loss was so great that it slowed down the party and if you’re me, you go into silent leave-me-alone mode. The quiet weird guy is back. I don’t have a woman to hug n cry with, I don’t have the option to have a fireside chat with the bottom of the bottle anymore… Its like a state of shock even though I knew this day would come. Its easy to say something while she’s still here, like “that’s what old people do” or “it won’t be long now” but when she heads off to the other party, it kinda sucks for those of us who are still here rotating thru the universe that she gave us life to live and be a part of...

I walked and sulked. I hugged and sulked. I had nothing to say cause I am so weird around people that I just kinda hung in the shadows. At one point I was sitting at a table looking at my shoes. Kara asked me to come sit at the “COOL TABLE” with her, kris, jmac, nate, and kirstin but I informed her no, I was sitting at the cool table. It was me, and a bunch of chairs.

The party wound down and I was close to just going straight home. As a clinically depressed fellow, you just don’t know what to do in these situations. Ya just go with the flow… but in my decisions and thoughts, I knew now the living needed me to be there, and the dead needed my final respects. So as much as I didn’t want to but was obligated to, I followed JMac to the manor and found myself at the head of the bed, where my peaceful, gaped-mouthed beautiful grandma lied. There were chairs set up there, but I felt more appropriate kneeling. As the man in black said locked up in folsom prison… “I hang my head and cry”… it was pretty odd being there, and I kept expecting her to breathe in and shake it off, but it never happened. After a minute of my own infinite respect payment, I felt a hand on my back and dad was there to console me.

I eventually got up and went back to silent mode again. so I did something I never did before. I thought about work and doing this. I said to myself “I can’t wait to go to work on Monday!!!!!!!!” you guys don’t understand how this helps me and makes me feel good to send out goofy stuff and make people smile. Its like listening to blues and feeling cleansed after a great soul shakeup.

So I, the weird silent guy, took a tour of the apt as she left it. Looked at the decorations around the place. Saw the interlocked wooden people that used to be on the angel bookshelf at 2200… I saw pics of all of the cousins, all of her kids, young paintings of gram n gramps… jewelry in and out of jewelry boxes, bathroom accessories, and different well-hung pictures of beautiful settings and family trees… the Zarbo birthdays calendar on the side of the toilet in the bathroom (it had my birthday wrong I may add J its 10/29/76…)

A few of the things I took cell pics of. . . one of which was stuffed on the side of the mirror in the hallway leading to the hallway of the manor. a big-headed baby with blonde hair and blue eyes. Then an older one of that same big-headed baby with his overalls on that said proudly… “Pete’s #1 Son!” Yup, that was me as a baby. There was a picture hanging on the wall with the saying “I just can’t ignore the girl next door” written below a sketch of their houses… and finally there was a quote that hung stuffed in the frame of a picture that read “the human race has only one real effective weapon… that is laughter!” – Mark Twain. The fun thing about that particular quote is that daisies are growing out of it as if it were part of the painting...

Before I left the karaoke party though, uncle chris gave me a good piece of advice…”this didn’t happen till tomorrow night at midnight”, and to paraphrase, so enjoy the reunion and take care of gram once the fun is done. Even though I handle things differently than most, for the most part I couldn’t get Clapton out of my head… “chingachingachingachinga CHING CHING DA LING... After midnight, we gonna let it all hang dooooooown!!!!!!!”

Still at the manor at 2am or so, we thought it was a good idea to leave and prep for the fun-infested ZFR 2010… and so we did.

ZFR 2010

When you wake up after a tragedy in the family it just isn’t the same kind of wake up as before. Its more of a “take a deep breath, exhale, and get yer toys ready, today will be fun, but somber…” [CHING CHING DA LING…. “After midnight...”]

I picked up tim and gib and we headed out 22 to 39. nice thing: I had GPS… not so nice thing: I looked up WEST hanover park on google. It couldn’t find anything so I called dad for directions. When we got there it was found out it was EAST hanover park. Forget directions, I can’t even get the name right… BUT we made it.

I parked and gib ran off to the pavilion because he was starving. It was said to me that he grabbed a cheeseburger, added fixins and turned around to eat and a man was there. Gib said “oh hello, who are you related to?” and the man replied “I am the head of this family…” that’s when gib realized he didn’t recognize anyone. He offered to give back the burger, but they were nice and said take it. Turns out his stomach was stronger than his eyes… he got food from another picnic! OOPS! our reunion pavilion was under a seemingly LARGE gazebo-shaped pavilion, and it was located in a never-before seen place behind the tennis courts. An obvious mistake, but a sweet screwup! Haha he said they mentioned that if we had any ribs a payback would be nice but alas they didn’t ask for chicken and orzo salad so GIB WINS!!!!!!!!! Woohoo!

This large octagonal pavilion very quickly began getting smaller and smaller the more people arrived. And the usual suspects were grillin, others brought food from shrimp to salads to ramen noodle something good to pineapple upside down cake. Plenty of food for the hungover nutzis…

Yet in this gazebo, the food line was basically a circle. And a circle that didn’t move at all. everyone kinda stood there waiting for someone to move but noone did. So ya picked and chose what was close to you and ate while in said circle.

Somehow I had no problem picking and choosing what I wanted and WOLFED down 4 plates. What was I some national guardsman? Like it or not, I had better exercise today, or I was flat gaining 40 pounds from what went down my piehole.

Zarbo Olympics started off with Softball, barely digesting the food, we all got teams picked between timmy and nate. Jill started off for us on nate’s team. [on a side note, not that she looked any better or worse when we met her, but Jiminy Christmas! I thought there was a divorce and remarry in progress when Jill got out of the car with the kids. I hadn’t recognized her. And what was this beautiful young lady doing with my uncle chris? Is she available? Oh crap its just Jill…. Boo for me!]

At some point nate’s team was down 6-0 until we got our bats working… it was an epic game complete with broken ankles for the first base runners (FYI FOR THE FUTURE… SLATE ROCK DOESN’T MAKE GOOD BASES), to bee stings for certain masciullis named tony, to a home run by mikey into the tennis court (a first for the ZFR since we’ve been there at EAST hanover park), to plenty of errors from nate’s team captain, and even one or 2 for tim’s team captain. It was tied up in the 8th inning (extra innings in softball) when tim got up and cracked the ball for the final RBI to win 11-10. noone complained about the score, it was a tre-cool game, and fun was had by all.

As I was walking to the car I noticed a tall soldier looking man with a girl he hadn’t introduced me to. One of those “too hot for the hottub” girls… or “to hot to even notice me” kind of girls. Typical of this man, I told this soldier fellow to stop so I may be introduced. Wow. I think I had to wipe drool from my chin once again, yet realized this woman wasn’t related! Woohoo! Yet she is from missu, so she may as well be a mirage… Maybe I should go out for basic training. I certainly could eat apparently!

At this point the recap from my perspective gets sidetracked. I had a personal sweatgland problem in a particular area of me-self so I went home took a fast shower and changed so I was more compfy, plus gave me an opportunity to drive the car again J
When I got back the basketball game had ended and chuck said he had lost… its so sad to hear an 800 year old man pout when he loses at basketball, but also fun when you have to think of all the talk he usually spits when prepping for a basketball game at the reunion. I figure its cause Beth Herchelroath wasn’t on his team, or even there at all.

We headed inside and I saw people playing bingo, all the new banners from the new “Families” made over the last 2 years, origami, silent auctions going on, things offered as a family yard sale, and the list goes on. The smell of meatballs and noodles filled the room and after 4 plates of lunch I wasn’t exactly hungry so I waited the allotted 30 minutes for the line for dinner to be made and end so I could get the leftovers. As I waited Eddie and Lita and Schuyler pulled in. WOW were they late. Yet Lita had just gotten back from Thailand with Schuyler and its from the other side of the world so to say they were jet lagged would be an understatement. Their nights were our days so it takes some time to readjust (like I have a clue. As we found out in max’s tunes, tre doesn’t fly)

Then I got in line and met yet another beautiful woman named Amy. What is this my lucky day? Amy asked who I was and how I fit in to the family. I told her I was pete’s son pete’s son pete. So everyone calls me tre. I asked the same and she said she was from Montana (maybe…. I explained I didn’t even know where that was but still a slight bonus for me… YES!!!!!!!!!) and she was related to the laskosh’s (crap!)… I was battin 1000 this weekend… ungh…

On a side note… is every woman in our family a model?
And a ps to the side note… you might be a redneck if you go to a family reunion lookin for a wife… … I had some sunburn on my neck too…

So we ate n ate (I had 2 plates of dinner), listened to the mac play “the cabin” among other favorites, had a family jam band play with da cofe on harmonica, Patrick played his banjo with one of the lashkosh rock n roll boys, and even the children put on a talent show. Its been a few years since the talent show was a part of the reunion but this year they found time for it. How refreshing! We had a dance recital to singers (sal sang an entire song and langan sang his wo-wo-wo song (bon jovi) and lina sang the tweet tweet song she always sang with gramma when she stopped by.)

Kiwi did the ultimate though. kiwi passed the torch to a young lashkosh relative and the young man now owns “talk me out to the ballgame”…

No no I didn’t forget max. max was part of everything. He stood on stage diligently playing along with the bands. He was a young mini-me to many of the guitar players, and it was a great sight to see. Remember max… you’re part of the 4g band, just ya have to wait for nick to grow older and learn the bass.

On a side note #2… I held my godson and ran around with him and he didn’t cry. Hate to say it but the highlight of the weekend for me. babies always cry with me, but I guess something was different this weekend… NICK RULES BABY!!!!!!!!! moving on…

Once all was done it was time to clean up. You know how that goes… organized CHAOS!

We left and went to JM+E’s for the after-reunion reunion and enjoyed telling stories, singing, drinkin, and all around good fun.

All in all a fine weekend indeed, and since she wasn’t there physically, I let gram watch the festivities thru my eyes, and lemme tell ya, she loved it! She’ll always be with me in thought, spirit, and heart. I’ll miss ya, but thanks for this life, and this loving family. Without them……I am nothing.

LOVE,
III

I HEARD MY GRAMMA CRY, I HEARD HER PRAY THE NIGHT MY GRANDPA DIED...

HORRIBLE TITLE, BUT ITS A NUTSY THING...

MY GRANDPA DIED AT THE HOSPITAL AND THE TIMELINE THE WEEKEND OF HIS FUNERAL INCLUDED A CELEBRATION OF MY COUSIN HANNAH'S GRADUATION... MY OBSERVATIONAL EMAIL FOLLOWS... GRAMS INCLUDES A REUNION RECAP SO I WILL ADD THAT LATER IN ITS ENTIRETY... SOME SAY ITS AN EASY WAY TO BUILD A BLOG, BUT I BEG TO DIFFER. I STILL HAD TO COMMIT THIS TO PAPER... AND AS THE SUBJECT MATTER SUGGESTS, IT WAS A LABOUR OF LOVE...

ENJOY:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” – Dickens (I think)

How true was that in terms of the weekend…? Although when I received the email from Kara on Wednesday it turned the surreal into real life. Gib called me from work Wednesday afternoon and said he’d be in to see pops in the hospital, and I told him he could stay in my place. He arrived late and decided it was best to let pops have his rest, that he would see him Thursday.

Thursday, 5:30 am…

“Pete? It’s Dad. Grampa died 5 minutes ago.”

Those words will be etched in my mind forever. And how was I going to tell Gib that his father died? How frightening?!

He woke me up saying “Its 9:30! You’re late for work!”

- “No its ok. I called off today, being up till 2:30a…  But I have bad news. I don’t know how to tell you this *swallow* but grampa died this morning at 5:25 am.”

He looked deflated, but walked out of my bedroom and went into the living room. I turned over once more and somehow fell back asleep to be awake later on in the day.

Later we went to Gram’s for the wonderful occasion of making funeral arrangements and hang with the fellow mourners. Although with all the different conversations in the room, there was an old Jewish man named Allen who lightened the mood, let alone the room. He is a truly intriguing man that at every turn seems to be a bit like me. Just likes to see smiles on people’s faces, using any type of humor that will help accomplish his task. He seemed to have a goofy story for every occasion and somehow grabbed everyone’s attention by saying “QUIET! Allen is speaking!” in his (un)orthodox drawl. I don’t think ANYONE has ever silenced a room like that before, even with a ketchup bottle in your hand!

Later, Gib and I retired to my apartment and reflected on grampa’s life a little, then went to bed.

Sunday was a party like no other. It was like a reunion of sorts. Everyone was in town for the funeral, but that wasn’t priority this day! Hannah “banana fannah bo banna” Carmela turned a new leaf this year. Congrats to the grad! We all congregated to the Montrose Mansion and celebrated her achievement. There was catered food, vino, punch, a main course you could write home about, and cake fit for a queen… how fitting.

I found myself at a table with Tim “I wish it was 1990 so I had a chance with Hannah’s friends” Hill, Gib, and, of course Allen. For some reason I couldn’t resist listening to his stories and corny punch lines, and he gave me, ME, a lesson on self-deprecating humor. He was kinda intrigued by me though cause I was quiet, my mind of course was elsewhere. A tragedy had just occurred and I couldn’t turn my brain off of it.  Dad had eventually explained to Allen that I am a different breed of fellow, I speak my mind on paper (electronically) and like to just take things in wherever I am at and report an all the misgivings later. I wasn’t engaging much with Allen but whenever I passed him or saw him on future days on this weekend I was sure to say hello to him. He helped brighten our day of sorrow Thursday and anyone who can make you laugh or at the least smile on a day like that at least requires acknowledgement of existence.

Later that night the first cousins (mostly) of drinking age slithered off to JM & E’s house for some late night reminiscing of the late pops, telling funny stories, being philosophical, thinking about how we could be like him in life, so as to be appreciated as much in death.

But as things go and as people stopped by bringing food and ordering pizzas, the party got looser and looser and after a few went home there was a few of us left who now have code words to remind us of that crazy end of an evening.

I never really spent this much time with my cousin Kiwi before, not this late at least. This kid has a future in comedy, the arts, something of that nature. We laughed and laughed singing songs of our generation, mostly rap so I of course just listened, and even were talented enough to seamlessly merge a song without knowing it, till music guru Jmac realized the mistake. We riffed on comedy routines, told jokes, and just had a ball. But apparently the equation of this humor by Kiwi is “make tired + family n friends = hilarity!” after a couple of hours of his sit down stand-up routine it was time to leave.

Monday was back to the grind for me. I put in time though for Thursday and Friday, and Tuesday, the day of the funeral itself. Monday was the viewing day, and when I stepped down to the bar with my best bud of 13 years, Mike, for a pre-viewing edge-taker-offer, it was about 5:20p, and there was already a line forming outside the funeral home. This was part of the testament to this radio personality. We headed down to neumeyer’s (unless this is it I will never spell that funeral home correctly) and stood in line for a split second, standing behind a towering Rick Wagner. I called dad real quick and said what can you do? He instructed me that family (and friend) could run in the side door so I grabbed tony, em, cathy, dom, tina, walt, and made a bee line to the side door.

First person I see? “Hello Allen!”

-“How ahh you?” hand extended, with an ever-present smile.

I walked in and realized we had just jumped a 2.5 hour waiting line to see gramps for the last time. I kinda felt bad but at the same time he was MY grampa, not a friend or coworker, but GRAMPA! So that anxious thought quit the second I thought of the bad feeling. He looked great, even better at peace than actually alive. He wasn’t in any pain, didn’t have to think of some quick comeback for a line you said to him, nothing. Just at peace.

The viewing went as smoothly as planned. But it was going strong the entire scheduled time. The governor make a quick respect payment, I even saw the former Secretary of Revenue Gregory Fajt. He was my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s…..boss. He was “the godfather” of revenue. But a pleasure of a man to work under. But the best meeting I had ever hoped to have had was a childhood friend from the boat. Susan Stewart. I saw her while walking my mom to her car. She is truly a great person and one of those people who don’t age. Her husband, Stu, had passed away about a year ago she said, and he was like a second father to me. Just a great guy and fun to be around. But sue looked terrific and we had a nice fireside chat with her, all the while more and more people were showing up to see gramps.

We were there for 3 hours and it seemed the line never diminished. And it hadn’t. After taking many outside breaks, Mike and I had decided we had had enough, and headed home.  After starting early, Gib finally made it home at a quarter of 11.

Tuesday didn’t start off well. First I had the wrong instructions so I was in a rush. Since never being a pall bearer before I didn’t know the pall bearing meant heavy lifting. Well, not like this. I have never in my life carried such an important thing like my grandfather in a casket along with my other cousins. And that wasn’t the point. This thing weighed in at 3,000 tons. That’s 6 MILLION POUNDS. There were 8 of us (including “the Hulk”AKA young Philip) so we were each carrying 750,000 pounds. Needless to say my elbow separated more times than Bob Horst has broken my hand in a handshake.

I have never carried something so heavy in my life.

We got to the church and parked in the alley. No parking lots or nothing, it was the alley. We were all in formation so it worked out fine. We grabbed gramps, got him in the church, and proceeded with a wonderful mass. Joe stood up and the family sang, Kristin read well, Banana sang beautifully, and even the priest’s homily was poignant and his attempt on gramp’s voice was funny. Paul later reported the flag would be flying at half mast in honor of the fallen wordsmith, Eddie read one of gramp’s passages that this year, 20 years ago, any time, could be used as a way to think differently about yourselves and others. Dad got up there and gave a eulogy that Mike complimented best. He said “My wife said to me after your eulogy that she had never met gramps, but she felt like she didn’t just meet him, but she knew him.” And it was true. A fine eulogy indeed.

Later we went to Cantone’s restaurant, a favorite watering hole of gramps, and the owner was a great friend. The food was fantastic, drinks flowing and everyone had an all around fine time. Although when I walked in, I heard a great line: “Oh no… finish fast! They’re here. Its gonna get loud!” Well, yeah… it did.

I think if gramps was alive, and younger, he would have had a blast. But you know what? He WAS there. He’s in all of us now more so than before and as long as we all carry him around with us in our hearts, his legacy will never die.

III

COONMAN, UNLIKE SPOONMAN, CAME UP WITH HIS OWN PLAN

AN OLDIE FROM A FEW YEARS AGO, MY BUDDY TIM COONEY TOLD ME A STORY I HAD TO REHASH ON AN EMAIL AND IT MADE ME FRIGGIN HAPPY FOR HIM. THE KID IS A GIFTED PLAYER AND IF THIS HELPS ANYONE, FEEL FREE TO CONTACT TIM OVER YOUTUBE.

ENJOY:

ok so as some of you know my mother used to sing folky songs with this dude named denny cooney. they sang songs and made a record with such standards as "west virginia" (take me home to the place i belong...) among others. think if john denver did duets... that "shove your finger down your throat" kind of music... no offense karen carpenter...  makes ya wonder why they arent still making records... ok, maybe not.

he had a brother named bob and bob had a son named tim. patty mac daddy knew him a few years ago and when i found out who he was and that his cooney was the same as denny's cooney, we became friends... we were oddly bonded and he was a hell of a musician... he was good at playing and as y'all know i can listen like nobody's business... but i havent seen him in about 6-8 years...

killing 3 paragraphs, aka, long story short i got a phone call from tim today and he's living in delaware married with 3 kids... his talent is out of this world good, like patrick, but uniquely individual to him. but this is why you are reading this heresay story:

tim went to an open mike in delaware and apparently tim described this as "the carnegie hall of open mike nights" in delaware. the place has been in business doing this open mike night for 60 years and everyone who plays there is incredible.

tim asked the owner one night to play and the owner took a look at him and said NO. apparently the guy is really cutthroat. later on he asked again and he said no again. he pleaded with the guy, said he'd only do 2 songs and this is the time he is alotted out of his house for the week cause of his kids and life in general. so eventually the owner said "2 songs... go ahead"... its a movie script i know...

so he went on stage and the magic of tim happened. he started playing and the room quieted down to a pin drop. he said there is a style he does called tapping, and from note one he had the room. the other musicians who signed up came to the front of the room to hear him play. i don't know how anyone can play any instrument but this guy is insanely good like patrick. its in his blood.

the owner said after the first song there was a problem in his club. the other musicians didn't want to follow tim. so he put on an hour and a half show for the club and now either hosts or occasionally hosts that open mike night. i forget exactly how it worked out, but he proved his worth in one song. the moral? don't judge a book by its cover.

i thought it was a pretty kick arse story and thought for a dreary cold friday on the east coast, it would warm all your hearts to hear it too. after the dover race in may, gib and i will take an "old guy" nap, then head to see tim play in rehoboth that sunday night. or i will at least.  

to see an example of what tim can do go here:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=clBoyR_c1Rs&feature=endscreen&NR=1

or search youtube.com"tim cooney" he has about 15 videos... for those of you in the business of music who may know a thing or two may i suggest you pass this on to the powers that be... and since we all know norwegian wood, find him doing that one in his 15 videos as well...

(mare pass on to patrick and encourage him to play more. i wish i knew how to hold a guitar but i refuse to learn cause i could never be as good as patrick. so i'll get back into shooting pool instead...)

enjoy
III

HELLO HOLLYWOOD, ITS ME, TVB

MID OCTOBER 2011 WE WENT TO PSU TO VISIT WITH SOME FRIENDS I CONSIDER FAMILY AND HAVE A TAILGATE AT BEAVER STADIUM AS WE DO EVERY YEAR. ITS BECOME TRADITION AND PEOPLE NEVER COMMIT TO THE TAILGATE UNTIL WITHIN A WEEK FROM THE GAME WHEN THE WEATHER IS IN QUESTION. IF IT RAINS YOU REALLY DON'T GET THE NORMAL 20+ CROWD THAT YOU DO WHEN IT DOESN'T. IT RAINED ON THE WAY UP, BUT THE WET WASNT THE ISSUE.

IN FACT THIS EMAIL WAS SENT DURING THE WEEK AFTER THE FUN OCCURRED. ANOTHER GAME WENT BY AND YET THE FOLLOWING TUESDAY IT HAD BEEN FOUND OUT ABOUT THE KIDS AND MR SANDUSKY. AS SAD AS I AM FOR THE KIDS I COULDN'T BE HAPPIER IT OCCURRED AT PSU. I'VE HATED THE FOOTBALL TEAM FOR AS LONG AS I CAN REMEMBER BREATHING, SO THIS HORRIBLE MAR ON THE MUSEUM QUALITY POLISHED MIRROR OF PSU MAKES ME FEEL GOOD TO KNOW THEY ARE NOW LOOKING MORE DEEPLY AT THEMSELVES THAN THE NONEXISTENT GAME AHEAD.

OTHERWISE, HOLLYWOOD, GIMME A CALL, THIS ONE IS WORTHY OF A MOVIE. THE WIND WAS AMAZING AND COULD MAKE FOR A GOOD CAMPING THRILLER NOT UNLIKE THE CHARACTER THAT FIRE PLAYED IN "BACKDRAFT"...

ENJOY:

PSU V PURDUE 2011: A VEGETARIAN TAILGATE

COULD IT BE THE WAR OF WORLDS? NOT REALLY. HOT AIR? POSSIBLY AND I MAY HAVE FOUND THE SOURCE OF THAT IF AIR WERE WORDS ON A PREGAME EMAIL… BUT THE WORD OF THE WEEKEND WAS W-I-N-D… I REMEMBER SEEING THE FORECAST OF “WINDY” HERE IN MECHANICSBURG AND THAT IT MAY GUST TO 40+. WELL, THE LITTLE PIG IN THE BRICK HOUSE HAS NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT… MAKE YOUR HOUSE OUT OF HAY HOWEVER, AND YOU MAY AS WELL TRY YOUR LUCK WITH SOME TAFFETA AND NYLON… IN THEORY IT WORKS FINE. ADD A GUST OF WIND AND YOU DON’T HAVE A HOUSE… NO NO NO… YOU HAVE A SAIL.

ALTHOUGH THIS WEEKEND WAS DIFFERENT, A LOT OF THE NORMAL “MR G’S PREPARTY” CROWD COULDN’T MAKE IT THIS YEAR. WHETHER YOUR EXCUSE WAS ATTENDING A WEDDING, “OUR HONEYMOON” (SORRY WE’RE ON A DOMINICAN BEACH… ENJOY THE TORNADO.... DARN HIPPIES CAN’T BE WRONG), OR THE FLU… IF THERE WAS ANY REASON YOU COULDN’T COME TO THIS PSU WEEKEND, WELL, IT WAS A GOOD ONE. BECAUSE THE WEATHER WAS A SONNNOFABITCH. BUT THAT WASN’T THE ONLY NEMESIS OF THE WEEKEND…

I LEFT WORK FRIDAY ONLY TO BE CONFRONTED WITH A FEW OBSTACLES GOING HOME. NAMELY OTHER PEOPLE’S PROBLEMS, AND I’M NOT DOWN WITH O.P.P... THERE WAS A STUCK TRUCK UNDER A BRIDGE ON FRONT STREET AND SLOWED TRAFFIC TO A HALT THEN HEADING HOME I FINALLY ARRIVED WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE OF OTHER ISSUES. THIS YEAR WAS DIFFERENT. MARC AND I DECIDED TO MEET AT HIS HOUSE AND NOT JONNY MAC’S CAUSE IT WAS JUST EASIER TO THE WEST SHORIANS. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A BAAD DECISION IF YOU WANTED TO LEAVE EARLY.

FIRST A CAR FIRE. YES. IF YOU’VE NEVER SEEN A CAR ON FIRE IN THE REAL WORLD, IT’S A SPECTACLE TO SEE. FLAMES SO HIGH AND THE FRAME OF THE CAR IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING THE BRIGHTNESS FROM BURNING THROUGH YOUR EYES, LIKE LOOKING UNPROTECTED AT A WELDER IN ACTION.

NATURALLY IT AFFECTED TRAFFIC AND MY INABILITY TO REMEMBER IT WAS GOING TO BE COLD AND TO GRAB A JACKET MADE ME GO BACK HOME AND GET SAID JACKET. ON THE WAY HOME A BUILDING FIRE ON ST JOHN’S CHURCH (ROAD) SLOWED TRAFFIC EVEN MORE.

WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM GPS, I FINALLY ARRIVED AT MARC’S PLACE AND WE LOADED UP AND HEADED OFF. WE NORMALLY LEAVE AROUND 5:30ISH AND ONCE AGAIN NOTHING WAS NORMAL. WE HEADED OUT AROUND 6:30ISH AND 322 WASN’T BAD AT ALL. MAYBE MORE PEOPLE WERE SICK THAT WEEKEND… OR MAYBE THEY READ THE WEATHER REPORT AND THOUGHT “ONLY AN IDIOT WOULD GO TO THIS GAME” SO THEY DECIDED TO HOLD OFF AND STAY HOME. HOW SMART AND RIGHT THEY WERE.

WE ARRIVED AT 9:03PM AND SET UP. IF JUST PUTTING DOWN MARC’S TARP TO PUT HIS TENT ON WAS ANY INDICATION, IT WAS GONNA BE A LONG STRUGGLE WITH THE WIND. BUT ALSO I THINK IF WE HAD TO SET UP TENTS IN SUNLIGHT WE COULDN’T DO SO WITH SUCH EFFICIENCY AND EXPERTISE AS WE DO IN THE DARK. AND OF COURSE WHEN YOU HAVE AN EXPERIENCED HOLDER OF FLASHLIGHTS AS BETH HELPING YOU OUT, THINGS JUST GO SO MUCH SMOOTHER, ERR WHATEVER “SHE” SAID.

WE WENT INSIDE FOR SOME FRIDAY NIGHT FOOD AND THEN THE WAIT WAS ON… I KNEW MY COUSIN KIWI WOULD BE ON THE WAY, I JUST DIDN’T KNOW HOW WELL HE’D DO WITH DIRECTIONS. ITS HIS SECOND TIME COMING, BUT FIRST DRIVING, AND I HAVE TO SAY FOR MYSELF, KNOWING WHICH WAY IS LEFT IS AN ACCOMPLISHMENT. BUT KIWI, ARMED WITH A GIFT ONLY JONNY MAC COULD UNDERSTAND, GOT TO THE COUNTRY CONVENIENCE STORE ON HIS OWN AND WITH OUR “SHOTTY” DIRECTIONS, FOUND HIS WAY TO THE YARD. WHEN YOU LOOK AT THAT FIRST PIC OF HIM WITH THE FOOTBALL, ALL YOU CAN DO IS SCREAM “KIWI!!!!!!!!!!!!!” WHICH WOULD CAPTION IT WELL.

WE SET HIM UP, RE-INTRODUCED HIM TO CHARLENE AND THE REST OF THE CREW, HAD AN OBLIGATORY BOWL OF SOUP, AND CHILLED OUT FOR THE NIGHT.

EVERY YEAR THERE IS A NEW FACE OF THE PARTY, AND THIS YEAR IT WAS CHRISTINE… TEEN? NO, “TINE”! KIWI’S FIANCEE CAME WITH HIM TO EXPERIENCE WHAT WE ALL HAVE KNOWN FOR YEARS… PSU IS A GOOD TIME, SICK OR NOT, AND LOOKING BACK SHE DID WELL ON HER FIRST TIME, BUT THOSE STORIES WILL COME OUT AS WE GO ALONG.

IN THE BASEMENT THE KEARNEYS HAVE A HUGE BAR SETUP COMPLETE WITH STOOLS, SIGNS, LIGHTS, AND A FULLY STOCKED BAR. I COULD IMAGINE HAVING A FINE TIME THERE FOR A NEW YEAR’S EVE PARTY A FEW ELBOW EXERCISES AGO, AS LONG AS I DIDN’T HAVE TO SLEEP IN A TENT THAT NEW YEAR’S NIGHT.  THE FUN PART WASN’T THE BAR OR SWEET SITTING AREA, IT WAS THE POOL TABLES. NOW, IF YOU RECALL WHEN YOU MAKE IT DOWN THERE, YOU FIND OUT QUICKLY WHAT THE STEP OUTSIDE THE FIRST STAGE OF HELL MUST FEEL LIKE. IT’S ABOUT 100 DEGREES, AND WITHIN ABOUT 20 MINUTES YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF THERE FOR FEAR OF BECOMING BEEF JERKY. BUT WITH THE AMBIANCE OF A 70’S MOVIE SET, AND 2 (COUNT ‘EM, TWO) POOL TABLES, IT WAS DECIDED A NICE THAW AND FRIDAY NIGHT CHILL INSIDE WAS IN ORDER. CHARLENE CAME DOWN WITH US AND SHOWED US WHICH ONE WAS THE “GOOD” POOL TABLE. SO WE DECIDED TO USE THAT VS THE ONE WHERE THE BALLS WERE JUST SET UP AND WAITING TO BE BROKEN… LITTLE DID I KNOW THAT WHEN LIFTING OFF THE RACK ON THE “BAD” POOL TABLE THAT ALL THE BALLS GRAVITATED TOWARD THE CENTER OF THE TABLE. BUT I FIGURED THAT WAS OK, THAT WAS THE “BAD” POOL TABLE.

FIRST UP WAS KIWI AND MYSELF, AND WHAT WE KNEW WAS KIWI WAS 1-UP ON ME FROM A GAME WE HAD A FEW MOONS AGO. YEAH, I SUNK THE 8 BALL OFF A BAD CAREM, (KAREM?) BUT RULES ARE RULES AND HE HAD ONE GAME UP ON ME. WHEN YOU BREAK ON THE GOOD POOL TABLE YOU FIND OUT THAT THE GOOD POOL TABLE MEANS THE BALLS STAY STEADY WHEN YOU PULL THE RACK OFF. AFTER THAT YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN. ONCE WHILE MARC AND CHRISTINE SHOT, THERE WAS A SHOT WHERE NO RAILS WERE HIT, THE CUE BALL MADE A COMPLETE 360 DEGREE CIRCLE, AND 2 BALLS WERE PUT IN THE POCKETS. I’D LIKE TO SEE THE MYTHBUSTERS TRY AND DISPROVE THAT ONE, BUT IT HAPPENED.

DID I WIN? YES BUT I LOST TO MARC ON A SCRATCH LATER ON… BUT AGAIN, STEVE MIZERAK HAD NO CHANCE ON THESE TABLES… I THINK RORY MCILROY WOULDN’T HAVE EVEN FOUND THE HOLE READING THESE GREENS. YET THE IMPORTANCE OF EACH SHOT WAS SUCH A SWEET DIVERSION FROM THE REALITY OF WORLD GOINGSONS. IT WAS A BOATLOAD OF FUN AND WE ALL HAD A LAUGH AT THE SIMPLE DIRECTION OF ROLLING BALLS ON A TABLE.

FROM POOL THOUGH IT WAS GETTING LATE AROUND MIDNIGHT AND WE DECIDED TO MAKE OUR WAY TO OUR RESPECTIVE BEDROOMS AND FOUND OUR WAY OUTSIDE…

WHAT WE KNEW? IT WOULD BE CHILLY. WHAT WE DIDN’T KNOW? WE WERE NEVER IN KANSAS NOR NEVER INTENDED TO BE IN KANSAS… BUT I SWORE I HEARD A YOUNG GIRL CLUTCHING HER LITTLE DOG SAYING “WE’RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE TOTO”… THE WIND WAS EXTREME. WE FELL ASLEEP, ERR, LAID IN OUR FREEZERS FOR 20 MINUTES COMPLAINING HOW DUMB WE WERE FOR EVEN COMING, HOW STUPID SLEEPING IN A TORNADO WAS IN LESS THAN A 1MM THICK TENT, AND HOW LOUD THE TREES WERE. THE GOOD THING THOUGH, THE DOGS KNEW TO STAY IN THE GARAGE. US? WE WERE BEING KEPT UP BY TENTS ARCHING THE WRONG WAY AND HAVING THE “WALLS” SMACK US IN THE FACE AS WE TRIED TO GO TO SLEEP. MARC MENTIONED HE HAD A “SLEEP AID” AND IT WAS DECIDED THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA. NOPE. NOTHING COULD ESCAPE YOU FROM THIS WIND. WE DECIDED TELEPATHICALLY IF WE ALL PUT A CONCERTED EFFORT INTO DOING THE CIRCADIAN THING AND KNOWING IT WAS NIGHT TIME, JUST S-L-E-E-P. ONE SHEEP, TWO SHEEP…

I THINK I WAS THE ONE WHO BROKE THE LOOONG SILENCE AND SAID “THIS IS STUPID”. APPARENTLY I WASN’T THE ONLY ONE WHO WAS AWAKE. YOU HEARD THE TREES CREEK AND MOAN AND ARCH TO MAX CAPACITY AND RUSTLE WITH EVERY FORCE OF NATURE IMAGINABLE TO KEEP YOU UP AT NIGHT AND YOU THINK “WOW, THAT’S SOME STRONG WIND…” … NO, IT WAS A WARNING BELL TO STAND UP AND HOLD ON. I HAD NEVER BEEN OUT THERE IN THAT FIELD AND THOUGHT I WAS GONNA DIE. THIS NIGHT MAY HAVE BEEN A GOOD ONE FOR THAT. BUT AS WE ALL THOUGHT IT HAD BEEN 6 HOURS TRYING TO GET TO SLEEP, MARC INFORMED US NO, IT WAS ONLY AN HOUR OF STRUGGLE. WE HAD 6 MORE HOURS OF THIS TO GO.

KIWI SAID “YOU KNOW, RAIN WOULD BE SO MUCH BETTER RIGHT NOW THAN WIND. I WISH IT WAS RAINING INSTEAD OF BEING THIS WINDY…” WHO KNEW THE KID HAD IT IN HIM TO CHANGE THE WEATHER? GRANTED, HE DIDN’T CALL UP TO THE SKY ON HIS CELLPHONE PUTTING IN THE REQUEST SO IT TOOK A LITTLE BIT LONGER FOR HIS REQUEST TO MAKE IT TO THE SKY… AND AT 430AM?

*TINK

*TINK

*TINK

*TINK TONK

*TINK TONK TANK TINKTONKTANK…*

IT WENT FROM A TERRIBLY WINDY NIGHT TO HURRICANE LEE. I WAS WORRIED MY TENT’S BASEMENT WAS GOING TO FLOOD, SO I MOVED ALL MY STUFF TO HIGHER GROUND (THANKS RAFT, ERR, AIR MATTRESS) BUT ALL MY PREVIOUS EXPERIENCES WERE WITH A DIFFERENT TENT THAT ALLOWED FOR MOATS INSIDE THEM. THIS IS THE ONE REASON I BOUGHT THIS TENT. EUREKA TETRAGONS HAVE THE UNBELIEVABLE ABILITY (PER THE REVIEWERS’ COMMENTS ALL AROUND) TO WITHSTAND RAIN. AND I NOW HAVE TO ADD MINE TO IT. NOT A DROP. I WAS DRY AS A FEATHER YET THREW ON MY RAINSUIT TO GET TO THE HOUSE. I BOUGHT THE RAINSUIT AFTER THE IOWA GAME YEARS AGO, SO I MAY AS WELL USE IT HERE. LUCKILY THOUGH IT WAS 630AM BY NOW, AND THE RAIN STOPPED ENOUGH TO GET A FEW SATURDAY MORNING PHOTOS OF THE SUN JUST OVER THE HORIZON.

NOTHING BRIGHTENS YOUR DAY LIKE A SUNRISE AT SAMS. IT’S JUST BEAUTIFUL, SERENE, AND OF COURSE LITERAL. THE SUN BRIGHTENS UP EVERY DAY WHETHER ITS CLOUDY OR NOT.

(LOOKING OVER THE RAIN SOAKED ELECTRONIC DAMAGE, WE HAD ONE CASUALTY. MARC’S CAMERA. SO COLLEGE GIRLS, YOU’RE LUCKY YOU’RE DOWN TO JUST ONE OLDER CREEP. AND THANKS FOR WEARING THE APPROPRIATE ATTIRE.)

THE SOGGY GROGGY CAMPERS MADE IT TO THE KITCHEN AND NOBODY, EVEN THOSE INSIDE THE HOUSE, COULD STOP TALKING ABOUT THE WIND. KIWI THOUGHT THAT MARC AND I WERE MESSING WITH HIS TENT ALL NIGHT… MARC AND I THOUGHT THERE WAS A BEAR… ALAN, WHO SAID HE WOULD BE IN HIS TREE STAND MOST OF THE MORNING WAITING FOR AN UNSUSPECTING BUCK TO WALK BY, DECIDED TO PLAY IT SAFE WHEN HIS TREE STAND STARTED SWAYING NOT A FEW INCHES BUT FEET LEFT TO RIGHT, AND WHEN HE SAW TREES FALLING AROUND HIM HE CAME HOME. HE DIDN’T WANT TO BE A STATISTIC IN THIS WRAPUP... BUT I THOUGHT SOMETHING WAS WRONG WITH HIM THIS WEEKEND BECAUSE, IN FACT, UNLIKE THOSE GOOFBALLS SLEEPING IN TENTS OUTSIDE, ALAN WAS USING LOGIC.

NINA CALLED EVENTUALLY AND FIGURED HER WAY OUT TO SAMS. SHE BROUGHT A FRIEND OF HERS WITH HER NAMED JOE AND ONCE AGAIN, WE HAD A NEWBIE. JOE’S A NICE FELLOW, AND I HAVE MET HIS FACE BEFORE, BUT AS SOME KNOW MY ABILITY TO REMEMBER NAMES IS LIKE “WHY DID ANYONE HAVE A NAME TO BEGIN WITH?” SO “HEY YOU” WORKS FINE. BUT SOMEONE SAID HIS NAME WAS JOE AND THAT WAS EASIER TO REMEMBER THAN HIS NICKNAME WHICH WAS… … … . . . .  .  . UM… JOE.

NINA DECIDED AGAINST SETUP THIS YEAR, SAYING HER SICKNESS COULDN’T KEEP HER FROM PSU, BUT SHE WAS GONNA SLEEP IN THE BASEMENT DUE TO HER COLD AND SO WE WERE OFF. THIS MAY HAVE BEEN THE EARLIEST LAUNCH IN YEARS, OR EVER… SIMPLY BECAUSE NO WASTE OF TIME WAITING FOR THE 6AM CREW TO SETUP THEIR TENTS, NO FINDING THE HOUCK CREW IN A HOTEL PARKING LOT, WE JUST WENT TO THE GAME. THIS MUST BE WHAT IT FEELS LIKE WHEN PEOPLE COME UP ON A FRIDAY NIGHT… IMAGINE THAT… J

AS WE MADE IT PAST THE PORTA POTTIES WITHOUT STOPPING WE REALIZED WE HADN’T BEEN TO THAT POINT WAITING TO PARK SO QUICKLY. IT WAS WONDERFUL. WE WERE ALL ANTICIPATING THE GRILLED FOOD TO BE GREAT, UTENSILS WERE BROUGHT TO KEEP THAT MELTED PLASTIC FORKY TASTE OUT OF THE MOUTH, AND TYPICAL FUN WAS TO BE HAD.

TABLES WERE SET, DRINKING CONTINUED (IT NEVER REALLY COMMENCES AT A GAME, YOU JUST HOPE NOT TO GET PULLED OVER…J) AND FUN WAS HAD BY ALL. WE DECIDED FOOD WOULD BE A GOOD THOUGHT EARLY SINCE IT WAS ABOUT 10A AND WE HAD ABOUT 2 HOURS TO PLAY WITH BEFORE THE TICKET HOLDERS NINA AND JOE WENT TO THE STADIUM.

ALL I HAVE TO SAY AT THIS POINT WAS THANK GOODNESS FOR THE VEGGIE TRAY AND CHIPS. MARC WAS THE GRILL MAN, WITH A GRILL. HE HAD GAS, 2.25 TANK LOADS OF IT. WE WERE GOLDEN. IT WAS WINDY YES, THAT WAS A SLIGHT ISSUE EVEN FOR THE FOLKS A FEW CARS DOWN WHOSE 10 FT CANOPY FLEW OVER AND TURNED IT INTO A HEAP OF ALUMINUM… BUT WHEN YOU MAKE FIRE YOU NEED 3 THINGS. WE HAD 1. FUEL. 2. OXYGEN. 3. SPARK. SO WE’RE GOOD RIGHT?

SEE WHEN FUEL IS UNDER PRESSURE THE PRESSURE NEEDS TO BE REGULATED IN ORDER TO WORK ON A GRILL SO THE WHOLE TANK DOESN’T JUST LET OUT ALL THE FUEL... ITS THAT METAL THING THAT YOU SCREW YOUR GRILL HOSE INTO ON YOUR GAS GRILL AT HOME. IT REGULATES THE PRESSURES OF THE TANK VS THE GRILL AND SUPPLIES YOUR FIRE TRIANGLE WITH THE CORRECT AMOUNT OF FUEL SO THAT YOUR SPARK, FUEL AND OXYGEN TURN INTO A FIRE.  WHILE HAVING THE 3 ELEMENTS OF FIRE IN FRONT OF US, AND THE SMELL OF PROPANE FILLING THE AIR ALONG WITH JOHNSONVILLE BRATS, CHICKEN, HAMBURGERS, HOT DOGS, AND THE OCCASIONAL WHIFF OF PROFESSIONAL TAILGATERS WHO BRING RIB RACKS AND SMOKERS, ALL OF WHICH WHO USE PROPANE NEED REGULATORS, OUR REGULATOR WASN’T ALL IT MOUNTED UP TO BE. OURS WAS MISSING. OURS WAS LEFT AT HOME. OURS WAS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND. MARC’S NICE BLUE GRILL HE BOUGHT FOR TAILGATING TURNED INTO A BLUE TRUNK SPACE TAKER-UPPER. AND SO WE WATCHED THE BURGERS DEFROST ON THE TABLE IN TEARS.

BUT THE SHOW MUST GO ON.

NINA BROUGHT OUT ALL THE FIXINS FOR SOME GOOD OLD FASHIONED (MEANING NON REGULATOR STYLE) TAILGATING… CHIPS, VEGGIES, AND PRETZELS ALONG WITH THE OBLIGATORY JEAGER GALLON AND REDBULL WERE CONSUMED TO PERFECTION. I DUNNO ABOUT YOU, BUT I LIKE MY DRINKS MEDIUM RARE, SO I JUST HUNG IN THERE WITH MY WATER AND ENERGY DRINKS CAUSE I LEFT MY COFFEE IN ETTERS. BUT THERE WAS PLENTY OF FUN TO BE HAD AND WHILE OTHERS DID THEIR THING, ME AND CHRISTINE GOT TO KNOW EACH OTHER BETTER AND I THINK HAVE A FINE UNDERSTANDING OF EACH OTHER NOW. IN SHORT, WE’VE WON THE SIBLING RIVALRY.

NINA AND JOE WENT OFF TO THE GAME, AND WE WORKED ON PACKING UP AND HEADED OUT TO WALMART. AN AIR MATTRESS WAS IN STORE FOR KIWI AND CHRISTINE (COLD NIGHT CAMPING ROOKIES) AND I DUNNO ABOUT YOU, BUT AFTER A NIGHT OF WIND, A BIT OF STRING TO HOLD DOWN THE BOX KITE I WAS SLEEPING IN AND EXTRA REDBULLS FOR NINA WERE IN ORDER. BETWEEN THE DRINKERS, THE ORIGINAL REDBULL CASE WAS GONE. AND AFTER THE VEGETARIAN MEAL WITH COOKING ALL AROUND (NOTICE ALL THE WORKING GRILLS IN THE PICS) REAL FOOD EVEN WALMART COULD MAKE WAS NEEDED AND CHRISTINE TOOK ADVANTAGE. AS SHE ATE I KNEW I COULD WAIT TILL SAM’S GRILL GOT TURNED ON BUT IN THE BACK OF MY MIND ALL I COULD THINK WAS “WHY DIDN’T I GET A CHICKEN SANDWICH?”

WE GOT BACK TO SAMS AND, WELL…

I HAD PLANNED ON TAKING A NAP CAUSE THE WIND WASN’T AT A FULL 60 MPH IT WAS CLOSER TO 40, SO IT WOULDN’T BE AS BAD AS LAST NIGHT. AND EUREKA! MY TENT HAD BEEN INTACT, UPRIGHT, AND STILL FIGHTIN THE GOOD FIGHT!!! BUT SOMETIMES WORDS MOMS SAY ARE JUST WRONG, AND KIWI’S WAS NO EXCEPTION. HIS MOM SAID HE WOULDN’T NEED STAKES THIS WEEKEND. WHEN YER AT WALMART BUYING ROPE SO YOU COULD JUST STAY IN ONE SPOT WHILE SLEEPING… THAT PRETTY MUCH SAYS IT ALL. BUT THE SIGHT OF MARC’S TENT TWISTED UPSIDE DOWN COMPLETELY LITERALLY HOLDING ON BY ONE STAKE IN THE GROUND, HIS TARP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE INFAMOUS FIELD BEHIND SAMS… AND THE SIGHT OF KIWI’S TENT BLOWING IN THE WIND… (PICTURE THIS: THE GREAT SAILING RACE THEY HAVE WITH THE HUGE SAILBOATS AND IF YOU CAN PICTURE THE HUGE SAIL PROUDLY GOING ACROSS THE FINISH LINE, IMAGINE IF ON THE FRONT INSTEAD OF “RALPH LAUREN POLO” YOU SAW A BLUE LANTERN AND “COLEMAN” WRITTEN UNDERNEATH, THAT WOULD BE WHAT KIWI’S TENT LOOKED LIKE.) IT WAS A DISASTER ANY TENT CITY SHOULD NEVER SEE… REMEMBER THE HINDENBURG VIDEO QUOTE: “OOOOOOH THE HUMANITYYYYYYY”…

WE GATHERED OUR THINGS AND EVEN YOUNG CJ HELPED BY GRABBING THE TARP IN THE FIELD… THE TENTS WERE RESTORED IN THEIR UPRIGHT AND LOCKED POSITIONS, ROPED IN AND STAKED TO COMFORTABLE PERFECTION, AND AN ENERGY RESURGENCE CAME THROUGH. MARC HAD A POLE SNAPPING CASUALTY THOUGH AND IT SEEMED THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE TO DO NOW BUT DRINK.

WE SAW A FEW SCORE CHANGES AND I CHATTED WITH SAM ABOUT HOW HE’S DOING. HANGING IN THERE HE SAID… HIS ONE SIDE SEEMS HALF PARALYZED FROM THE STROKE. HE HAS SOME MOVEMENT IN IT BUT FOR THE MOST PART HE’S NOW A LEFTY. HE SAID AFTER 58 YEARS OF WRITING WITH HIS RIGHT HAND, IT’S ODDLY DIFFICULT DOING IT WITH HIS LEFT, BUT IT’S STARTING TO COME AROUND... AND TO HELP HIM OUT IN THE GARAGE, THERE’S A LIFT NOW SO INSTEAD OF BENDING OVER TO DO EVERYTHING, HE JUST PUTS IT ON A MICHIGAN UNIVERSITY-COLORED LIFT AND MAKES THE OIL CHANGES AMONG REAL CAR WORK A BREEZE. I TOLD HIM IT TOOK TOO LONG TO GET ONE. HIS BACK WOULD BE FINE IF HE HAD THIS MANY YEARS AGO. HE AGREED.

SAM’S GRILL HAD THIS THING ON IT THAT ALLOWED THE GAS PRESSURE TO BE REGULATED FROM THE GAS TANK TO THE FOOD, CALLED A REGULATOR, SO SAM AND MARC CLEANED IT UP AND MARC COOKED OUR BURGERS AND HOT DOGS ON IT FINALLY BACK AT SAMS. IT HIT THE SPOT ALMOST AS GOOD AS A SPOT HOT DOG… ALMOST. IT WAS JUST FINE TO FINALLY EAT TAILGATE FOOD. AND IT TURNED OUT TO BE AS PERFECT AS ONE COULD EVER WANT. BECAUSE THE GRILL WAS USED FOR ANOTHER OCCASION. CHARLES HAD BOUGHT 3 RACKS OF RIBS FOR THE PARTY AND THEY WERE GONE BEFORE THEY LEFT THE GRILL. CONSUMED ISN’T THE WORD… INHALED. THAT’S ONE INHALATION EVEN BILL CLINTON WOULDN’T DENY.

WE ALL GOT OUR CHANCE AT SKEET SHOOTING THIS YEAR, EVEN THIS WRITER WITH A DULL SHOULDER PAIN STILL, BUT IT HAD TO BE DONE BECAUSE, WELL, IF CHRISTINE SHOT IT, THEN I HAD TO. CHRISTINE HAD NEVER SHOT A GUN BEFORE SO HER FIRST CHANCE AT IT, LIKE KIWI’S LAST YEAR, WAS CAUGHT ON VIDEO. THE GUN KEPT SHOOTING BLANKS THOUGH AND THE FIRST PULL OF THE TRIGGER WASN’T SO BAD. ONCE FIGURED OUT THOUGH IT WAS QUITE THE BANG AND KICK… WE ALL HAD OUR SHOT AT THE PIGEONS AND FUN WAS HAD BY ALL. EVEN A FRIEND OF CHARLES WAS QUITE THE SHOT.

THE FIRE THIS YEAR WAS KEPT TO A BARE MINIMUM DUE TO THE WIND SUSTAINING THROUGHOUT THE WEEKEND. SATURDAY NIGHT THOUGH IT HAD DIED DOWN ENOUGH TO GET ONE GOING AND WHEN CJ DIDN’T HAVE HIS FINGER BEING EATEN BY THE NOSE MONSTER, HE WAS PROVIDING US WITH KINDLING FROM THE WOOD BEHIND THE FIREPIT. WE HAD A HARD TIME GETTING IT GOING, UNDERSTANDABLY, SO GASOLINE WAS BROUGHT INTO THE PICTURE AND WELL, THERES NO DENYING IT. GASOLINE HELPS START FIRES. BUT THE WOOD WAS SO WET THAT IT BURNT OFF THE GAS AND NOT MUCH OF THE WOOD… WE ADDED A CHAIR IN MEMORY OF MOTTER AND DOUGIE FRESH AND THEN DECIDED THERE WAS TOO MUCH RUBBER IN THE CHAIR. I THINK THE CHAIR THIS YEAR WAS MADE BY GOODYEAR.

MORE FUEL WAS BROUGHT TO THE FIRE, MORE KINDLING BY CJ, AND EVENTUALLY IT WAS DECIDED TO BRING OUT A SPEAKER FROM DOWNSTAIRS. REMEMBER HUGE BOX SPEAKERS THAT BOSE SAYS THEY SOUND LIKE…? WELL, THEY GO UP IN FLAMES NICELY… YOU COULD SEE DIFFERENT FLAME PATTERNS IN THE FIRE AND WE ENJOYED THE HEAT COMING FROM IT AS WELL.

NINA ARRIVED WITH JOE POST GAME TO ANNOUNCE SHE WAS HEADING HOME. SHE HADN’T FELT WELL DURING THE GAME AND SLEPT THRU THE LAST HALF.  PSU WON THOUGH SO SHE WASN’T IN DAMPENED SPIRITS, BUT HER MEMORY OF THE LAST HALF WAS SHOT. THEY SAID THEIR RESPECTIVE GOODBYES AND WE GOT MORE SPEAKERS FOR THE FIRE. A SET OF 3 TOTAL, BUT MAN, WHAT NICE HEAT. WE KEPT THE MATERIAL TO JUST BELOW THE FRAME SO AS NOT TO MAKE IT THAT BIG A DEAL AND IT WASN’T. “SUBDUED” WAS A WORD USED DURING THE WEEKEND AND THAT COULD DESCRIBE THIS FIRE AS WELL.

AROUND THIS POINT ALAN REALIZED MARC HAD SOME ALCOHOL IN HIS GATORADE ALL DAY AND MARC WENT TO HIS TENT FOR MORE. (YET THAT WAS THE LAST WE SAW OF MARC TILL SUNDAY.)

AT THIS TIME IT WAS DECIDED TO BRING OUT THE BEAST. IN THE BASEMENT THEY HAD THEIR BIG SCREEN TV. IT WAS THERE IN THEIR LIVING ROOM FOR THE FIRST FEW TIMES WE WENT TO PSU. ITS LAST RITES WERE READ AND KIWI AND ALAN HEAVED IT THRU THE BASEMENT OPENING. ONCE OUT KIWI APOLOGIZED FOR DAMAGING IT A LITTLE AND WE ALL HAD A LAUGH. IT WAS HEADING TO THE CREMATORIUM, AND THIS GUY SAID HE’S SORRY FOR THE FLESH WOUND. (LIKE PUTTING ALCOHOL ON A DEATH ROW INMATE’S ARM TO PREVENT INFECTION THE DAY HIS APPEAL IS DENIED… I DIGRESS)

A TV BURNING IN A HOT FIRE IS SOMETHING TO BE SEEN ONCE IN YOUR LIFE. LIKE A CAR FIRE. BUT A BIG SCREEN PLASTIC PROJECTION TELEVISION ON A SUBDUED, WINDY, REGULATORLESS WEEKEND IN THE MOUNTAINS WITH SOME OLD FRIENDS (THE OLDEST IN FACT) AND FAMILY, I COULD WATCH THAT EVERY DAY FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE AND BE HAPPY. IT WAS UNBELIEVABLE. IT WAS SO HOT AND HUGE THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WAS WITHIN THE CONFINES OF THE FIREPIT I BELIEVE YOU GUYS HERE COULD SEE IT. IT WAS A SECOND SUN. THE SMOKE COMING FROM IT LITERALLY MADE YOU DIZZY AND IT GAVE YOU A REAL APPRECIATION HOW AND WHY FIRE IS SO DESTRUCTIVE. I FIGURED ALAN THREW IN SOME LITTLE FIREWORKS CAUSE OF THE DIFFERENT COMPONENTS POPPING THROUGHOUT ITS FINAL SHAPING AS A TV AND RESTRUCTURING INTO A BLACK PLASTIC BLOB. THE GLASS FROM THE FRONT OF IT SMASHED AND SMASHED AND SMASHED AGAIN AND IT MELTED AROUND SOME OF THE LOGS IN THE FIRE. IT WAS LIKE STANDING ON THE SAME OUTER RUNG OF HELL AS YOU FEEL GOING INTO THE BASEMENT, BUT THIS TIME THE DOOR WAS OPEN AND HELL WAS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU. PLASTIC HAS TO BURN MUCH HOTTER THAN WOOD, SIMPLY PUT WITH LITERAL INTENTIONS: IT WAS BREATHTAKING. AND FILMED. IT FELT LIKE 20 MINUTES BUT FILM TELLS NO LIES. 10 MINUTES IT WAS OVER. A SPECTACULAR 10 MINUTES. BUT 10 MINUTES OVERALL…

ADDING TO THE FINALITIES OF PSU WEEKEND, A ROUND OF PICKLEJARRED MOONSHINE FOR THE STILL AWOKEN DRINKERS OF ALAN, KIWI &  “-TINE” WAS TO BE HAD. IT WAS FUNNY TOO CAUSE THEY CAME OUT OF THE BASEMENT AND SAT BY THE FIRE AND BLUE FLAME WAS COMING FROM THEIR MOUTHS. WHEN ASKED, KIWI SAID “MY ARMS ARE REALLY COLD, BUT THIS SECTION HERE (MOTIONING AROUND HIS ABDOMEN, CHEST AREA) IS BURNING HOT.” AND FOR WHATEVER REASON AS IF NOT TO HAVE HEARD KIWI AT ALL, “-TINE” WAS ASKED HOW SHE WAS FEELING AS WELL AND SHE SAID “MY ARMS ARE REALLY COLD, BUT THIS SECTION HERE (MOTIONING AROUND HER ABDOMEN, CHEST AREA) IS BURNING HOT.” SEEMED AS IF THE MOONSHINE WAS DOING THE TRICK.

THEY HEADED OFF TO SLEEP AND ALAN AND I REMINISCED A BIT, SHOT THE LANDMINES, AND CAUGHT UP. LATER WE DECIDED NOT TO STAY UP THRU THE NIGHT, AND JUST GO TO BED. LITTLE DID WE KNOW IT WAS THE LATE LATE HOUR OF JUST BEFORE 11PM WHEN WE DECIDED TO TURN IN. EARLIEST EVER? POSSIBLY, BUT WITH THE WIND AND RAIN OF FRIDAY NIGHT, CONSIDERING WE SURVIVED THE ENTIRE DAY WITH 3 HOURS SLEEP WAS AN ACCOMPLISHMENT. AND SO I TOOK THE OBLIGATORY SLEEP PILL, AND FIGURED EARLIER IF I REMOVE MY RAINFLY THE WIND WOULD GO RIGHT THRU MY TENT AND IT WORKED LIKE A CHARM… NO RAIN CAME THROUGH SATURDAY NIGHT AND IT WAS A GREAT NIGHT OF SLEEP (FOR ME AT LEAST)… MORE COMPLAINTS OF THE WIND COULD BE HEARD SUNDAY MORNING BUT ALL IN ALL IT WAS NOTHING LIKE FRIDAY.

SUNDAY CHARLENE COOKED UP OMELETS AND BEFORE YOU KNEW IT SHE WAS DONE. SHE SAID “WELL, THAT’S THE FASTEST BREAKFAST EVER!” THEN SHE WAS REMINDED ONLY 4 CAME UP AND SHE SAID “I DON’T CARE… WE DID GOOD!” AND SHE DID DO GOOD. SHE EVEN SAID “WHO’S THE ONE LAST YEAR WHO COMPLAINED THERE WAS NO CHILI FOR HIS OMELET?” “SEAN” WE SAID “AND DON’T MIND HIM HE’S ON A BEACH IN THE DOMINICAN REPUBLIC RIGHT NOW…” AND AS JEALOUS AS WE WERE OF HIM I KNOW DEEP DOWN INSIDE SOMEWHERE HE’S MORE JEALOUS OF OUR BREAKFAST.

WE ALL PACKED UP AND HEADED FOR HOME WITH DREAMS OF A FULL NIGHT’S SLEEP AND HOPE THAT OUR REAL WALLS DIDN’T FALL IN AND TOUCH OUR FACES SUNDAY NIGHT AS WELL. AS MUCH AS I WAS DISAPPOINTED WITH THE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE WHO DIDN’T COME THIS YEAR, IT WASN’T ABOUT THEM. I COULDN’T BE HAPPIER WITH THOSE THAT DID COME. WE ALL HAD A BLAZE WATCHING THE TV, ERR, A BLAST. WE ALL HAVE STORIES OF THINGS WE’LL NEVER FORGET AND STORIES OF TIMES YOU’LL NEVER REMEMBER. . . WE HAD 2 NEWBIES TO OUR LITTLE PARTY, AND MANY MANY “FIRST EVERS” FOR CHRISTINE AND ALL.

AMONG THINGS WE’LL NEVER FORGET, BEYOND SAM’S WIFE’S NAME, CHARLES AND BETH’S NEW BABY JEW, ERR, “KYLE”(THAT’S HIS NAME… SORRY I HAVE TO THINK OF SOUTH PARK TO REMEMBER IT), CHARLES’S DRINKIN BUDDIES’ NAMES, ALONG WITH THE KID RUNNING AROUND WITH CJ THAT WASN’T MARC, ROSIE’S PEANUT BUTTER FUDGE, THE ABILITY TO RUN OVER A BOX OF SODA WITHOUT BREAKING A CAN, “THE GOOD TABLE”, THE BASEMENT GREEN GAS CLOUDED FART THAT, TO BE LITERAL, IT WAS THE FART THAT BROKE WIND, AND OF COURSE THE WEATHER…

BUT MOSTLY, WE’LL NEEEEVER FORGET A REGULATOR AGAIN. . .  HOPEFULLY. MAYBE. BUT ALL OF A SUDDEN MELTED PLASTIC DOESN’T SEEM SO UNAPPETIZING…

SO, UNTIL NEXT YEAR… SOMETIME IN SEPTEMBER WHEN LESS SICKNESS AND WIND IS IN THE AIR…

III

PS… THANKS TO THE USUAL SUSPECTS: SAM THE MAN… “LIFE-POPS”… MEANING I HAVE LEARNED MORE ABOUT LIFE FROM SAM THAN ANYONE IN MY LIFE, CHARLENE THE EXPERT COOK, TO CHARLENE’S FATHER AND MOTHER FOR BUILDING ON THIS LAND AS WELL… CHARLES THE RIBMAN AND BETH THE FLASHLIGHT POINTER EXTRAORDINAIRE, KYLE THE NEXT GEN’S NEW BEST FRIEND, CJ, KING OF KINDLING GATHERERS, ROSIE THE PEANUT BUTTER FUDGEMAKER/CLAY PIGEON MURDERER, ALAN THE KEEPER OF THE FIRE (THAT IS MOONSHINE), KIWI THE MUSCLE MAN TO GET THE MAIN EVENT TO THE FIRE WITH ALAN, CHRISTINE THE ROOKIE NO MORE, NINA THE FOOD QUEEN (NOT HAIR, I HAVE NO HAIR, AND IN FACT NEITHER DOES ALAN), “JOE” THE GUY WHO HAS A NICKNAME WHICH IS IN FACT HIS OWN NAME TO ME, AND MARC, MY FORGETFUL DRUNKEN CHAUFFEUR.

PSS… THE NEWEST ADDITION MINUS THE DOG TO OUR PARTY THIS YEAR WERE THE ARTILLERY SHOOTERS ACROSS THE WAY… IN SOME OF THE VIDEOS YOU CAN HEAR IT TOO. IT WAS ABOUT EVERY HALF HOUR YOU’D HEAR THIS RAT-A-TAT-TAT-A-TAT-TAT OF MOTTER’S PISTOL GOING OFF. (WE FIGURE IT TOOK THEM A HALF HOUR TO RELOAD FOR THE 5-7 SECONDS OF SHOOTING THEY’D GET FOR EVERY RELOAD) YET WHAT YOU PICTURED HEARING THIS NOISE WAS THE 2 HANDED GUNNERS ON THE BACKS OF ARMY VEHICLES… POINT OF THIS PART OF THE PSS… JUST SAYING NO THANKS TO THEM. NONE. MAYBE SLIGHT APPRECIATION FOR THE HEADACHE, BUT ONLY A SLIGHT ONE. THE WIND HAD A STRONGHOLD ON THE HEADACHE JUST FINE THANK YOU! NO NEED FOR HELPERS…

FINALLY BEFORE LEAVING SAM PLAYED A SONG FOR ME IN THE KITCHEN BY AARON LEWIS. COUNTRY BOY. LYRICS ARE PRETTY MUCH HIS PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE AND WHERE HOW AND WHAT HE IS ALL ABOUT. “THIS IS THE SONG OF THIS WEEKEND” HE SAID. FINAL LYRIC OF THE SONG IS BELOW, AND IN FACT THE MAN EMBODIES IT.

“now two flags fly above my land and really sum up how I feel

one is the colors that fly high and proud, the red the white the blue

the other ones got a rattle snake with a simple statement made

Don't Tread on Me is what it says and I'll take that to my grave

because this is me I’m proud to be American and strong in my beliefs

and I've said it before but I'll say it again cause I won’t need a government to hold my hand

and I've said it before but I'll say it again because my family's always fought and died to save this land

and a country boy is all I'll ever be”