The End of my Childhood?

Yes, I want to write more fiction on this blog. There’s some. I even have writing that has really been published due to contests I won.

But now is the time to talk about my childhood, which well in terms of my age it has been over for many years. Too many. But the things we hold onto sometimes stay around.

Sadly in my case they are all gone.

As you may know, I was chief of Aquehongian Lodge #112. That’s Staten Island’s Order of the Arrow (OA) lodge. The OA is an honor society of campers within the Boy Scouts. In April my Lodge is closing down. Well it is not really closing. They are merging the other four NYC lodges with us into one NYC lodge. It is a plan that has been in the works for more years than I’ve been alive. Membership in Scouting is not great. So yes, this will help preserve the OA spirit in the City. But it crushes me.

Some kids grew up in little league. I grew up in the Boy Scouts. That was on Staten Island and in my favorite place in the whole world, Chappegat Hill, Ten Mile River Scout Camps, Narrowsburg, N.Y. I spent all my teen summers there. I was a camper and a member of the staff.

My section of camp was closed in ’88. Other sections remain. But they are not Chappy. Sadly it was closed because the “professional” scout staff was not willing to make the required repairs to our site. I use the term professional loosely. There is not much professional about them.

Repairs were need on the camp’s last tip pan latrine. That precious building is where so many scouts took their first camp showers, scrubbed it down when they were members of the service patrol and got smacked with water balloons. That’s when we staff members gathered everyone around it to yell at them for it being dirty. As we were yelling some of us launched more water balloons than one could counts. We also dumped buckets of ice cold water all over each other. No it was not abuse. The weather was steaming

I miss every last minute of Chappy. I made some of my best friends there. They include “My Leader,” my “Oracle,” “Rodney”, “Booger” and many others.

Now back to Aquehongian Lodge #112. Taking my OA ordeal was one of my favorite things. My dad was chief of the soon to be defunct Shu Shu Gah Lodge # 24, Brooklyn. We are both Vigil Honor members. That’s the highest honor you can get. My Vigil name is Alhaquot Aptonen, Stormy Speaker the namesake of this blog. His is Shattek, Younger Brother. I’m Eagle. He’s not. I won….

After passing my ordeal, I immediately joined the ritual team. Now they call it the ICE (Inductions, Ceremonies and Events) team. They keep getting more and more politically correct.

The ordeals used to be rough. Now it is like spending a weekend at the country club. I didn’t eat on mine. Now the candidates get food. I couldn’t talk. Now kids carry iPads. Enough. Things change.

As ritual team member, I played many parts. We dressed up as Lenni Lenape, Delaware Indians. We wore war paint. I was Meteu, the medicine man of the circle in induction ceremonies. I was Allowat Sakima, mighty chief of the circle in the Brotherhood ceremony. The Vigil inductions remain secretive. But I was in those too.

I became ritual team chairman. I won the Lodge Chief, Netami Sakima election. In my first election my opponent got two votes. I got like 50. The next year, I ran unopposed. I had to be publications chairman at the same time. I admit I was somewhat of a dictator. But I love my Lodge so much. I could not let anything go wrong. I was chief of our 50th Anniversary. Our last meeting as a Lodge will be the 75th Anniversary party in March. I hope we get a good crowd. My meetings were always packed.

I remember the day my friends and I were building the induction fires and went to Berlin Lodge in Pouch Scout Camp to get lunch. The ritual team did not associate with anyone else. We were bound to each other. We were a major clique. We walked down the trail and saw a Cubmaster letting his Cubs swim in Orbach Lake. No swimming was allowed at the time. We yelled at them and made them come out.

We ate and walked back. We saw the Cubmaster, who admitted he couldn’t swim in the lake up to his knees screaming the names of two kids. Naturally, I was wearing a bathing suit. I tossed off my shirt and sneakers. My other ritual team members did the same. We jumped into the lake and led the Lifesaving merit badge lost bathers drill. We pulled one killed out. The ambulance rushed him off to the hospital. Unfortunately, he didn’t survive.

We were told the other kid ran out of the lake. So we set up a massive search all day and night. I did my Vigil induction that night. My dad came. I was so proud. But he pulled me off to the side and said the FDNY pulled the other kid out of the lake. He drowned.

Back to happiness. I spent that summer in camp. It was Chappy’s last summer. Not happy. It was quite memorable. We went to Cooperstown, Action Park and Dorney Park during Super Week. Of course, we hiked to the Delaware and Ten Mile Rivers a lot. I survived Action Park that summer. The year before, I fell off the Alpine Side. The right side of my face was a mess. But it never did break out. I credit my fall for that. It was my fault. I was riding to fast. I got yelled at by the park’s staff. I didn’t listen.

A few days ago my uncle passed away. He was 93.5. I know this doesn’t fit with the aforementioned scouting stuff. But in some ways maybe it fits with the end of my childhood. I am quite upset. I can’t say I knew him superwell. But I always called. I rarely saw him. But sometimes I did. Not often enough. He was one of 7 kids. He’s the last of them.

He and his brothers were pure Brooklyn. Nothing is better than that. They were called the “boys”. They are all gone. I remember hearing so many stories about them growing up. Some were gone before I arrived on Earth.

A few years ago his older brother passed away. I was supposed to go to the funeral. I never made it. Sadly, other things were planned for me the day before. Everyone understands why I missed it. There was no way I could have made it.

At the funeral I went to over the weekend, I saw the grave of the uncle whose funeral I missed. I always felt a little bad for not going to his funeral. Yes, I could have visited the grave anytime. But never did. In some ways this is sort of closure. Of course, I will never have that.

So as I think back about my camp and Lodge, I will always have my memories and friends.

So is my childhood over? Is my adulthood starting? Or neither?

Brain Dead

Arthur woke up and realized it was Monday. He knew it was time for him to put his brain in the refrigerator for the week. It didn’t matter. He was heading to the train for a job that he loathed. Sadly, everyone in his office was brain dead.

He got in early. Way too early. But it helped him. All the idiots he worked with started to stroll in. It was funny. He worked with such dumb people. Some were nice. Unfortunately, none had any real business experience and they’ve been working in the same poorly managed place most of their lives. Many of them have never been anywhere else. Yet, they think they are such worldly liberated people. Funny. It was too funny.

But thanks to the Clinton and Bush administrations, our nation was in an economic downfall. Yeah, Clinton was a good but not great president. But at the end of his term the economy started to drop. Once Bush came in it plummeted. He failed to address it.

Good ‘ole Arthur was used to working in messed up places. But this place took the cake. The immaturity and inexperience of his colleagues overwhelmed him. They were all clueless. If the place were on the market it would have been delisted many moons ago.

Arthur fiddled around on his PC. It took way too long for the computer to boot. His office has the worst network known to man.
Eventually, Cami walked in. She’s brain dead too. In fact, she’s been brain dead for 2 years longer than Arthur. Of course, their joke is that they know they are brain dead. The rest of their pathetic colleagues, think they are changing the shape of the world. What a hoot?

Cami was a nice person, well dressed, sweet and smart. She’ sort of Angelina Joliesque. Or at the least, she’s loves Angelina. Who doesn’t’? They chat a few times a day, about how dumb the people they work with are.
Arthur, however, is a special case. All the women he falls in love with are mental patients. They are all on meds. But when it comes to meds, it doesn’t mean the standard, Paxil, Zoloft or Lexapro. Those are basically over the counter meds. Not any different than Advil. The girls he loved were on hard psychotic drugs. Many spent times in mental institutions. Some of them caused lock downs and had to be put in the solitary confinement rooms.

Why Arthur liked these women, no one could understand. But Arthur was a strange bird. All of these women usually shared the same name, Robin. Yup, there is not a Robin out there that’s normal in the mind of Arthur or his buddy, Ted. He’s Arthur’s Yoda. But by this time, Arthur was more attuned to the Dark Side.
Arthur’s dream woman is Drew Barrymore. He loved Angelina Jolie too. All he wanted was to find a nice girl and not to be brain dead.
Cami was sitting at her desk staring into space. Having spent 4 plus years in this hellhole, she was more like a zombie, than a human being. Arthur walked over to say hi. As usual Cami was depressed. The only thing that kept he going was her dog.. The two of them made fun of the idiots at work and chatted about the latest movie or argued politics for a moment or two.

Cami is a bleeding heart liberal. Arthur is conservative. However, he hates W and is pissed that his beloved GOP was destroyed by the radical religious right. Those brain dead people have no understanding of the U.S. Constitution or anything. Sadly, they controlled too much. Bring back the cool republicans like D’Amato, Rockefeller Ike, Jefferson and Lincoln. Arthur did love Regan. He helped him and the world in too many ways to list.

Cami and Arthur finished their conversation. Arthur went back to his desk and answered emails sent from the morons he worked with. That was his life. He was busy looking for a new girl. He was hoping to find a normal one.
The next few weeks went on and on. Nothing changed. Arthur was still single and brain dead. He piddled away with the jerks he was stuck with. Cami was still a zombie. She took care of her dog, Despite the fact that she’s brain dead, she did fine. You see when you left the office your brain was put back into your head. Weekends were fun. The brain was at full throttle.

One needs to remember only Cami and Arthur had their brains reinserted when they departed the office. The rest of the people were brain dead for life.

Arthur came in one day and looked for Cami. She was not at her desk. He hiked over to her friend, Stacey’s desk. Stacey was brain dead too. According to Stacey, Cami was taken away. She was put into a mental institute. Stacey didn’t have many details. But it seemed that Cami zoned out in a restaurant and went batty.

From what Stacey heard, Cami was seated with friends. when the food came out, she started screaming at the hamburger. She then started jumping up and down and then fell into a trance. She was cuffed to a gurney and put into a strait jacket.
Upon arrival to the mental hospital, she was put in solitary confinement in a padded room. She wore a pink and purple bathrobe with yellow flowers. Her shoes and socks did not match.

They gave her a sketch pad and crayons.. She wanted, her husband, Fred to bring her dog. He tried, but they made him keep Henrietta in the car. Dogs are not allowed in the loony bin. Cami and the others might have attacked and ate it. But boy does Cami love Henrietta.

Arthur was sad, but ecstatic. He would visit her. This would be his connection to a new girlfriend. Cami would help him meet new crazies.
You see Arthur had come to realize he’d never find a nice normal girl. He was too warped and the crazies suited him just fine.

Stacey and Arthur chatted about poor Cami. They were going to visit her. Stacey emailed, Fred to see if we were allowed to visit. They didn’t know if she was in solitary confinement and was barred from seeing friends and family.

Fred said her situation was very delicate. However, she was allowed visitors. He told Stacey the visitation hours.

Stacey and Arthur hopped on the subway to the mental hospital. They didn’t bring anything. They weren’t sure if they’d be allowed to give her stuff. But they brought their support.

Arthur was very excited. He’d never been to a mental hospital. He thought for sure he’d find the girl of his dreams. He figured he’d use Cami’s situation to help him.

The two strolled into the mental hospital and went through security. An aide walked them up to the recreation room. Cami was sitting on a futon watching TV. She was drugged up and waving her arms. Her eyes were bloodshot. Apparently, she wasn’t sleeping much. She howled at the moon during the evening. At least, she thought was looking at the moon. It was the light in her room. Cami howled at it for hours. Eventually she passes out and curls herself into a ball and falls asleep.

Her friends thought it was weird that she howled at the moon. In Arthur’s old summer camp, a few kids did the same.

Prior to beginning their conversation with Cami, Stacey and Arthur were warned not to ask her about the incident that brought her to the hospital. She’d just tell some type of nutty story.

Arthur walked right up to Cami and started talking to her. Arthur felt sorry for Cami. She’s such a nice, good person and now she’s in the loony bin. Of course, he asked her for a rundown of the single women that might fit what he’s looking for in a girlfriend.

Cami smiled at Arthur when he asked about the single women in the nut hospital. He noticed a cute girl, about 35 years old, sitting against the wall and bouncing up and down, while moving her arms as she was doing the butterfly stroke.

“Figures you’d notice, Marni,” exclaimed Cami. Arthur smiled. He asked Cami what her deal was. Cami explained she was just plain nutty. She used to take trains and freak out on them. She often checked herself into the ER after taking a subway ride. Arthur was excited. Then he saw another cutie hopping around the room, while singing Frank Sinatra songs. She did it her way. LOL.

Naturally, he asked about her too. Cami explained the deal with Sarah. She’s been in the ward for about 2 years. Rumor has it she may be discharged within the next 90 days. She was brought here after she was swinging around on the ropes in the gym at the high school she taught in. She was a social studies teacher, not a gym teacher. Apparently, she just waltzed into the gym during a championship basketball game and started climbing the ropes in her gym clothes. Most people thought it was funny and smiled. They were pleased she was wearing the school gym t-shirt and shorts. But the game had to be delayed and the team was just seconds away from being the state champs.

Sarah swung around on the ropes and made monkey faces. She started to sing, R.E.M., the Cure, Duran Duran, Pearl Jam and Pink Floyd songs. The head gym teacher, whom was the coach of the basketball team climbed up on the adjoining ropes and talked her down. But before she would climb down, she belted out “It’s the End of the World as we Know It”.

There were police officers waiting for her when she finally reached the gym floor. After about 15 minutes the teams resumed play and Sarah’s school became the champions. Sadly, Sarah was in an ambulance was unable to sing “We are the Champions”. She arrived at the crazy house and was desperate to watch the NY 1 report on her shenanigans.

She was not able to watch TV for a few days. They did some testing on her. She was placed in solitary confinement in a lock down room for her first week.
Arthur was intrigued. He and Stacey spent their allowed time with Cami and were escorted out by Jocelyn, the patient care technician. Cami promised to learn more for Arthur and told him to come back in about a week or two.

Arthur spent the next two weeks plugging along at is waste of a job. Boy did he work with the dumbest of the dumb. He taught some of them how to use Google, Excel and other products that have been around for years.

He was trying to hook up with a normal girl. But she never wrote back to him. They had met at a volunteer center. Arthur thought her lack of response was a sign that he needed to stay with the crazies. Of course, during Rosh Hashanah, Arthur decided that they weren’t nuts. They were all just people and needed to be respected.
But how did that fit in with his hatred of his co-workers? He figured those people thought they were so high and mighty and that made them screwed up.

Stacey chatted with Cami’s Fred. Nothing new. She still howled at the moon. They increased her meds and she was doing group and individual therapy sessions.
Arthur planned on spending the weekend in the hospital. He’d visit Cami and try to hook up with Marni or Sarah. He fantasized that Sarah was a cute, sweet, simple girl. However, she would go crazy when they dated and flip out over Rice Krispie treats or trains. Marni would be a wack from the get go. Arthur would be in all his glory.

He waltzed into the psych ward. There was Cami sitting in the recreation room. She had been kept in solitary for the last two days. But she started to behave. She caused a lock down, when she was dancing on a chair and pulling her unwashed hair. She was singing Britney Spears songs. When the staff heard that they ordered a lockdown. Anyone singing Spears’ songs needed to be in the mental hospital. To make it worse Cami chose to sing “Hit me Baby”.

Of course, Cami liked rock and it really showed that she was brain dead when she was singing those songs. They were making her brush her teeth. She had refused to do so for days. She would try and squish food between her teeth and hoped it would stick to her gums.

Arthur ran right up to Cami and said, hi. She smiled back at him. Unfortunately, she was so medicated she wasn’t able to talk that well. So he wrote notes to her on and she wrote back in Crayon. She wasn’t allowed to have a pen or pencil. She’d use it as a weapon.

Naturally, Arthur asked her about Marni and Sarah. However, at this point he wondered how much he could trust her judgment. But he figured what the hell, he probably won’t lose any more than usual.

Cami said, Marni and Sarah are interesting women. One thinks she’s Dutch even though she’s Israeli, Polish and Greek. Sarah doesn’t know what she thinks she is. She’s just off the wall. Arthur asked Cami how he should approach them to see if they’d be interested in dating him.

Cami said go up to them when they are watching TV and make some comments about the show. The two women will most likely react in some fashion.
They were watching the “Golden Girls”. Arthur was not pleased about that, but he knew he had to get in there. Marni and Sarah started screaming at the TV. As they were ranting, Arthur started telling jokes about the show. They looked at him and smiled. He knew he was in.

Marni jumped on top of him. Sarah got pissed when she saw that and lunged at Marni who was trying to kiss Arthur. Cami was watching. She did not understand what was going on.

But she was dressed interestingly. She changed out of her bathrobe and wrapped herself in saran wrap. She made a hat out of Reynolds Wrap. She took vegetables and put them all over her eyes.

Marni and Sarah were now fighting over Arthur. He was lying on the floor. That’s where he landed after the two girls went after each other.

Cami was crying. She was annoyed that the tomatoes that she pasted all over her body was starting to rot. She belted out she was going to plaster zucchini all over herself next. She pulled her unwashed hair. She was trying to cut herself with a plastic knife and fork. She was screaming how she wanted to make the place a mess.

While this was happening, Arthur was alternating locking lips with Marni and Sarah. He was in heaven. The two girls were aggressively kissing him, while beating each other up.

Cami began biting patients. As she was biting people, Arthur snuck off to the room where they do shock treatment with Marni and Sarah. The two girls jumped onto the shock treatment beds and demanded Arthur to shock them.
He obliged.

The girl’s eyes glistened. Arthur smiled as they begged for more. Meanwhile, Cami was trying to bite the religious freak. This girl spoke only in prayer. She started quoting verses from many religions, even the ancient Greeks. Cami yelled at her for idol worship. She bit her harder.

The other two finished their shock treatment and jumped up and down. Arthur thought it would calm them down or turn them into zombies. However, Marni and Sarah turned into crazier girls. Arthur was thrilled.

Fred came to visit Cami. Of course, she wasplaced in solitary confinement and was in a strait jacket. She was escorted to the bathroom and was fed by a patient care technician. She was doing well for a few weeks, but then went nuts. They made her wear real clothes. Her bathrobe and outfits made out of fruit and veggies no longer cut it.

Fred brought her flowers and candy. The PCT had to trim the flowers. They let her smell them and placed them in a plastic vase. Glass wasn’t allowed in her room. In fact, she wasn’t allowed to touch anything with glass. They knew she’d bash it.
The psychiatrist sat down with Fred and said she’d be in for a while. In about 4 weeks they may let her out of lockdown. It was dependent upon how well she adjusted to her new meds.

On the other hand, Marni was doing well. Sarah was still batty.
Weeks went on. Arthur was getting closer to Marni. Sarah was still in the picture, but she was having trouble. She thought she was a dog. She was put into special therapy sessions.

Cami was doing real well. She adjusted to her meds. She controlled herself better. Fred bought her a brand new pair of jeans and a sweater from Kenneth Cole. She happily wore her new clothes. She ditched the Bathrobe and saran wrap. She even stopped playing dress up with fruit. Her shrink, Dr. Nimin was pleased.

Cami was even allowed to sit outside in the recreation area and pet Henrietta and feed her. She didn’t even try to eat her dog. She cuddled up with her and smiled.
Cami thinks she discovered, since she was out of that hellhole that employed her, that she had a brain. She was getting disability pay. Of course, she thought they all should be getting paid in that manner. The place she and Arthur worked in was such a joke.

Dr. Nimin realized that she would never be stable enough to return. He did do his research on that place and realized that Cami may have been right, about being brain dead.

Cami was being kind to her fellow patients. She even sat with the religious freak and prayed. No one ever figured out what religion they were following. But it kept them calm. So no one tried to stop them.

Arthur and Marni were seeing each other regularly. He was allowed to sit with her in the recreation area. He brought her candy and flowers. He dreamed of sharing a bottle of wine with her. Of course he knew that was off limits. Therefore, they drunk 7-Up.
Dr. Nimin and Fred met to discuss Cami’s progress. The good doctor asked Fred how he felt about her working for him? Fred was flabbergasted. Dr. Nimin said she was doing so well and was fearful if she went back to her job she’d flip out and be institutionalized for life.

The deal was she would help by befriending new clients and show them around. She could talk to them from a client’s point of view. At the same time she would be under constant evaluation. Pay was minimal. However, she got free room and board. Best of all meds were free.

They had a special cabin for her and Fred to live in on the campus of the mental institute. Fred would go about his regular job and instead of going home to the apartment he and Cami rented, he’d come home to her on the grounds of the hospital.
Fred agreed. He wanted to be back with his wife. Maybe one day they would have children. Dr. Nimin showed Cami and Fred their new cabin. They both smiled.
As for Arthur and Marni, well was another story. They were doing well. Marni’s parents loved him and hoped she’d get out and they could wed. Sarah was still acting like a dog and the religious freak was holding weekly prayer sessions for all.

Losing my Religion

First, I am not losing my religion. So don’t worry.

But I think R.E.M. wrote the greatest title. It does say a lot.

At times you wonder if you are losing it or getting lost in it? At least I do. But how do you document real life? When real life is getting more like fiction each day. I wish I wrote that. But we all know Jonathan Larson did. May he RIP.

Time to talk religion. Those of you, who actually read this blog, might have read some of my pieces that discuss religion.

Am I perfect? No. Will I ever be? No.

Let’s see, I go to services almost daily. I haven’t missed putting Teffilin on in many years. I read the Tehillim. I may not read the right one for that day of the week. But they are all inspiring. I’ve been studying The Tanya for a while. It is a great read. It is very deep and informative. It makes me ask a lot of questions. I am always trying to get a better understanding. I even read the daily portion on my iPhone. The other day, I was running on the treadmill and reading it.

Yes, there are times when I am wondering why I do this? But then I see some signs from HaShem. No, he didn’t text me or friend me on Facebook. I wish that were the case. Don’t we all? But there are so many things that may be ordinary or extraordinary that happens and I just know HaShem has put this into play. Do I like them all? No.
I try to eat the right way. In many ways, I am lucky. I’ve never liked shellfish or cheeseburgers. I’ve tried and love other foods that are not appropriate for my religion. I stay away.

I think the spirituality of my religion has a lock on me. I am not sure where I got this part of me? Although I am willing to bet it may have been from playing Meteu, the medicine man in the BSA’s Order of the Arrow ceremonies. Who knows? I know there are other reasons. I don’t mean my countless rituals at the Stadium. But those help me.
Anyway, what I love about the teachings are the acts of kindness and trying to help other people to the best of your abilities. I know we have the daily rituals, praying three times a day, washing hands before we eat bread (I am so proud we have that), and many other things.

Sometimes I question if we could get closer to the Torah not by worrying so much if we did all of those things. But lived less critically and did more to help others.
I used to play the clothes game. My friends and I would see who could out price each other with what we were wearing. I rarely lost. I haven’t played this in nearly 10 years. I am sure I’d still win. But does it matter? No.
There is so much more to us than that. There are too many people that I’ve met that forget this.

I wonder how “really” religious they are? All they seem to worry about is following everything to the letter. They’ve been way too critical of people who do not.
I don’t think that’s what religion especially mine should be about. I’ve been told because my parents are divorced, I’ve been to Broadway shows, seen Elton John and surf the web, I am the one holding us back from what we all dream of: The reconstructed Jerusalem.

Funny, I surf the web and are often studying Torah on it. Ok add in the Yankees, music, the market and buying stuff. Some people have told me the Internet is the new forbidden fruit and it should be banned. They should take the blinders off. As for Broadway, my musical and sports loves, I’ve heard I am sinning because I am seeing people play or perform who are not of my religion.
Like get a life. Maybe if you were more mature and more worried about whether people our own or others have food, an education and the other basic needs we ‘d be better off.

I am so lucky. I have people that are not wearing blinders. They can explain things to me the right way. Some live about a block away. I wish the others did. But they are always there when I need them. Oh and they all can make the most amazing Shabbat meals.

So am my losing my religion or finding it? And finding the way to understand it better and do more? The answer is obvious. My goals are to do more.

B”H

Ditz-Summer 2001

Summer 2001

It was another day at the office. I sat at my desk plugging away on some projects. I was one month into a raise and promotion.

Within the next few minutes, the ditzy human resources manager informed me that the senior vice president needed to see me. About ten minutes later, I was laid off.

Let the infamous job search begin. My mind drifted back to about three years ago. The economy was great and dozens of companies called to set up interviews. Somehow I knew this time it would be just the opposite.

I made a new resume, read the classifieds in the New York Times and joined the Internet job search engines. Much to my dismay, the Times was still running the same ads it ran the last time. I wondered if any company was really hiring. They are not. They just run ads.

Seeing the headhunters, praying for the phone calls and talking salary with everyone from the recruiters to the corporate presidents became a fulltime job in itself. But we all do it. After all there are bills to pay. Once in a while we want to splurge and see a Broadway show.

Every day, there was a new headhunter with my “dream job.” They all talked to me like they were my best friend. Some even told me about their medical conditions. Of course, this is part of their gimmick. Seconds after they hang up on me, they move through their list of a dozen other friends.

Several of the headhunters told me not to worry about bringing a resume to our meeting. It was already on file. Luckily, I don’t pay attention to their small talk. I arrived for the appointment, filled out the necessary paperwork and was called into headhunter’s office. Before I sat down, she said: “Let me grab your resume from my file.” For the next five minutes she searched and searched until I handed her a copy.

During the interview she asked me what firms I have seen. She never heard of several and asked who they are? Her Times ad said she was a big time recruiter and her ignorance to the firms named was like a computer geek not knowing the difference between Microsoft, Intel and IBM. I walked out and headed down Madison Avenue to next the appointment.

After going through the same motions, this headhunter inquired what position I responded to. “I don’t remember what I put in the paper,” she said. Frustrated, I asked if she had a record of her ad. She laughed and said “No.” End of meeting.

Last June, I found a firm through the Times, set up an interview and met with two vice presidents. Everything went well until we talked salary. We shook hands and I walked out. Two-weeks later they called me and asked me to come back for the final interview. I thought perhaps they liked me so much they were willing to meet my salary demands. Again, he asks about my salary requirements. I stated them. His response was, “No we can pay you maybe $20,000 less” and asked how much I am willing to drop. I said, “Zero” and hung up.

Six months later, I got a voice mail from one of the vice presidents saying, “Hi just checking into see if you landed a job, we’d like to meet with you again.” I got excited thinking maybe they’ll meet my salary demands. Immediately, I returned the call and got his voice mail. I left a message thinking he called me on his own volition. He must be ready to hire. Two days passed. I left another voice mail. I asked his secretary to page him, but she only transferred me to his voice mail. I left another message. He failed to respond. So I sent him an email. Did he respond? Nah.

The endless search continued. On one on of the interviews, the president says he can offer health care and a 401k package if that would interest me. I quickly thought, “No, I never get sick. Who needs health care?” The president of the next firm interviewed me for a freelance position. I researched what freelancers charge and asked for the norm. She almost fell off her chair. She said why so high? I imagine, I’m getting paid on a 1099 and will have to declare what I earned. I have to put some of my earnings toward COBRA. She asked if my previous company still paid my health insurance. I asked her if she believes that companies continue to pay health insurance after they eliminate your position. She said, “Yes”. This time I fell of my chair. Bottom line, I do want health care, and a 401k package would be appreciated.

My old firm had an ad on an Internet job board. I figured, why not see if I can go back to my previous employer. I left due to budget cuts. Not poor performance. I called one of the vice presidents I used to work with. We spoke for a few minutes. He said I’m surprised there was an ad. We are still laying people off, but talk to HR. He transferred me. I spoke to the same ditz who showed me the door. She said send me a resume. The group that is hiring may not know you. That’s a lie because I did dozens of joint projects with them. Plus we drunk our share of beer together. She told me to email a resume so the firm could see what I’ve been doing since I left. I emailed it and never heard a word back.

Months later, I’m still looking. And my list of questions keeps growing. Why do people initiate calls and never call you back? Are any of the jobs advertised actually out there? And most important, what do HR people do?

Bleach Monster Continued

Murray, aka, the “Bleach Monster” has spent the last few years traveling. Eventually he relocated to a neighborhood he lived in many years ago. He had been forced out of that one. The poor soul was forced to move back to the “planet” he grew up on. He had to reside under the watchful eyes of his family. This was due to bizarre circumstances.

But he relocated to the system he went to when he first flew away. He was doing better these days. In fact after the few years he spent all over the world his bleach episodes were fewer and fewer. He was at peace. Well not really. But things were different.

He interfaced with many more cultures. His old location was ultra-homogenous. All of his senses opened up. It may have shortchanged his attack mode. But remember he only fought to help people. He never shot out bleach unless he was saving someone from distress.

Danit and he are still great friends. But her life changed, too.
Lately, Murray has been feeling tense. He had wound up in many places where the people are so judgmental. They asked way many questions and blame him for things he has no control over.

Throughout all of this, Murray has kept his cool.

In one institution, they blamed him for a lot of things. Of course, these things were not his fault. He did the right thing. He walked away and found a group of people who were not like this. They made fun of everyone. Equal torture, LOL.

But then he met some people that he thought were super amazing. Then he found some of these persons, who claimed they were not judgmental, were ultra that way. As usual he was played for a fool. He thought he found a new group. Boy was he wrong.
He thought the group’s leader rocked. But the more time they spent time together. The more Murray realized the phoniness that prevailed. But he is stupid in some ways. He's too stupid.

One night they were hanging out in Red Hook. He had enough of hearing what’s wrong with this one and that one.

We all have flaws. Some are too immature to realize this.

They were walking down the street and he had enough. The head of his group was there and some others.

Becky, the group’s “cool girl” asked him what was wrong. He declined to answer.
Murray was sick of the people who labeled. That’s all they talked about was who could outdo the other. Murray remembered the days of the “clothes game” they used to play. They would see who could out price each other with what they were wearing. Murray always won. He still would if he still stooped to this stupidity. Yes, most of his clothes have a horse or crocodile. But it makes no difference. We must judge people for how they act. By the way, he prefers the crocodile.

Anyway, Becky pressed him. He held back. Then all of a sudden bleach shot out of his eyes like rockets. Her beautiful blonde hair was no longer blonde.

He turned to the dark side. He always had it in him. He never used his powers to hurt anyone that wasn’t being hurt. But the for the first time he couldn’t take being hurt by the way he was being treated. He usually held back.

This time, he unleashed more bleach than ever. She passed out on the ground. He looked at her. He stopped. He checked to see if she was breathing. She was dead. He laughed. The rest of the group high tailed it away. He ran toward the subway and hopped on a train heading toward the Lower East Side.

Was Murray who had been a kind soul, a killer?

Danit was only a few feet away when this occurred. Of course, Murray never noticed her. The fact that she was over there was unusual. She usually stays on her “planet”. She was scared. She didn’t know if Murray has changed or what was going on?
These people didn’t physically attack anyone. They were just obnoxious. Murray spent most of his life with these types.

But she set her mind to figure it out and stop it if she must. She would bring him back to being the helpful one. Or would she?
But could she fight him? Could she win?

Stay tuned.

How Staten Island Makes You Stronger?

About two weeks before my eighth birthday, I was taken from Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn to my new home in Arden Heights, Staten Island. I know, leaving Brooklyn is a sin. I had no choice. I left SI many years ago.

Before we knock Staten Island (aka “The Rock”) let’s talk about some cool things. It has an awesome Boy Scout program. I made Eagle on SI. Although, I credit my camp, Chappegat Hill, Ten Mile River Scout Camps, Narrowsburg, N.Y. for being the driving force in my scouting life.

Staten Island has the soon to be gone, Aquehongian Lodge #112. It is not really leaving. But in a few months the Order of the Arrow lodges from each of NYC’s boroughs will be merged into one. The best part of my SI life was being chief of the Lodge. I got my Vigil at Staten Island’s Pouch Scout Camp. My Vigil name is what this blog is named after, Alhaquot Aptonen, translated as “Stormy Speaker”. Sadly two Cub Scouts drowned during my induction weekend. I led the lost bather drill. Maybe, I’ll discuss in a future post.

So yeah, SI has some cool stuff. But then it has Tottenville High School. That place is a total dump. But let’s face it what is there to do on the Rock? Yeah, we have the mall. I was a mall rat. I’m not sure I had as much fun as T.S., Brodie and of course, Jay and Silent Bob.

As much as I was the crowned prince of the Rock, all I wanted to do was leave it. I spent many years working in the borough’s political machine. But I never concentrated on where I was. But always thought about where I wanted to be. My old master always said that was wrong. Not that I listened. I still don’t.

The problem with SI, besides it having nothing to do, is that it takes hours to get to the City, the Bronx or Brooklyn via public transportation. But I never let that stop me. I’d either drive to the Ferry or take the Staten Island Rapid Transit. That train is like an old trolley.

Perhaps this is why so many Islanders stay put. Not me. I would get up at the crack of dawn and take the crazy rides into the other boroughs. Or drive it. That sucked too. If something ended at around 11:00 p.m., I’d be lucky to be home by 2:00 a.m. The Ferry schedule is quite a challenge at night. Then I’d get up at the crack of dawn and start all over again.

It makes you stronger. The other day, I planned a gathering of old friends. Some were coming in from Conn., Jersey and Nassau. Although SI is closer, they have an easier commute midtown. But nevertheless, they all complained. I thought of my old days on the Rock.

I had wanted to go the Lower Eastside or Upper Eastside. I tossed out Brooklyn. They got scared. Not of the locations. But they were afraid of the travel. We settled on midtown Eastside. So we had a few people come in from the New Paltz area, a few from Nassau and East Harlem. A great time was had by all.

Bottom line, growing up on the Rock makes you stronger. You have some great youth activities and when you grow up and are ready to run you can. It just takes a little more to do that.

But life is about struggle and fighting to survive. SI can help you get through it.

Music: Duran Duran and well everything else

The other day, I was out with my college friends. All us boys were in Tau Epsilon Phi. A few years ago, we reconnected on Facebook. I was social chair during the college days. I became social chair again. Why, I don’t know? To paraphrase from Randall and Dante from “Clerks”, “I hate people. But I love social gatherings. Isn’t it ironic?”

Music does all sorts of things to you. At least it does to me. It brings out the depression. That’s why I so love the Smiths, the Cure, Depeche Mode (“Somebody” and ”Blasphemous Rumors” ring too true), Echo and the Bunnymen and all of Morrissey’s solo work. It can bring back old memories of good and bad. Note the Smiths. But then there’s the classic rock. There’s nothing like some Beatles, the Who, Led Zep and Pink Floyd. Yes, I am pissed at Roger Waters these days. But that’s for another post.

Then throw in my all-time favorite U2 (No,” I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For”. I know I never will) and don’t leave out Billy Joel and the Boss. I will always be in “New York State of Mind”. I didn’t walk through Bed-Stuy alone. But I was born there. Well the hospital was there. Then I was taken to Sheepshead Bay. I am an angry young man. I know I will go the grave as angry old man. I think I was “Born to Run”. I’ve been in love with a Jersey girl and who doesn’t have a hungry heart? Then there’s Elton John. I wish someone would save my life tonight.

So in the bar we frat boys and college girls talked about P&G’s, Thesis and some of New Paltz’s other watering holes. We laughed about how P&G’s played the same tape every Fri. and Sat. For many years we got wrecked to the same 12-17 songs. I made that mix when I got home. Who doesn’t need to hear “Baba O’Riley”,” Dyer Maker”,” Immigrant Song” and” Fool in the Rain”? Actually we couldn’t remember the Zep song. But thought it was “Immigrant Song”. They teased us with that once in a while. But the staples were “Dyer Maker” and “Fool in the Rain”.

When went out on Sat. we always heard “Saturday Night’s Good for Fighting”,” Crocodile Rock”,” One”, “Mysterious Ways”, “Birthday Song”, “Purple Haze”, “Buffalo Soldier” and “No Woman No Cry”. Of course the bar always closed with “Piano Man”. We all stood in a circle and held hands, while we sung along with Billy. Then we rolled down the hill back to South Side or UG. We usually stopped at Wings-n-Things or Classic Pizza before we rolled down the hill. Every time I hear these tunes, I think back to happier days. We were young and just having fun. No worries.

Us “college grownups” left the first place and went to the next one. Wow, it was just like bar hopping down Main Street in New Paltz. In this bar they played the “Safety Dance”. It was sad or maybe funny that we all knew it. My dad used to do the safety dance when the video came on. It was very goofy.

New Year’s eve, I went out for the first time since the year 2000. The band opened with “Hungry Like the Wolf”. It brought back so many Duran Duran memories. Years ago, they opened the “Astronaut “ album at the Barrymore Theater. Each one of them pulled up in their own limo. All the girls screamed so loud. I remember in the eighth grade when they all wore their “I love Simon or I love Nick” tees and pins. Some of them were wearing them again and teased out their hair just like the old days. Except this time they were sipping beer instead of whatever juice or milk the Snack Shack sold.

I’ve seen them play many times. One of my best friends is a longtime Duranie. Her dog is named for them. She’s in love with Nick. Years ago, I dated a woman who is in love with Roger. Once we were on a date. She told me how she had a dream that she was in a theater alone and Roger was onstage by himself. He was playing just for her.

Then there’s R.E.M. A part of my life ended when they broke up last year. I know I hurt. I’ve seen them countless times. Once the woman, I was with walked out. She was mad at Michael Stipe because he was wearing orange eyeliner and a white suit. The person sitting next to me saw my perplexed face. I said, everybody hurts. Only a couple a weeks before, she and I saw Morrissey. That was fine. Of course, pre-R.E.M. we went to Starbucks so she could get a Rice Krispie Treat. Not to eat. She wanted to fight with it. I am not sure who won? Once R.E.M. set a up vote for the playlist section on their website. I voted for “Night Swimming” probably 1,000 times. They played it.

Hey, what about your tunes?

Comments and Volunteering

Hi. Well I have a few readers now. I am slowly getting there. Anyway, some of you comment. But you do it to me via EM or on Facebook.
Why not trying commenting on the blog itself? That’s the point of blogging. All you need to do is go to the end of the post and pop something into the comment box. You can join too. This way you will always know when there’s new post. I know it is not as much fun as joining U2.com or other music sites that give you a chance to get tickets before the rest of the world.

Enough.

It is time for today’s post.

How many of you volunteer? I’ve been involved with this since I was a little kid. Well not sure the Cub Scouts was volunteering. I joined because I wanted to copy my fadder (That’s what a former Chappy camper used to call his dad. I think he still does.) I surpassed him. I’m Eagle. He’s not. But from Cubs through the Boy Scouts the emphasis was helping others. We had to do our good turn daily.

I have always given back and been involved as an adult leader. These days I don’t do as much as I used to. I guess because I am no longer a Staten Islander. In my teen days when I was chief of Aquehongian Lodge #112, one thing I noticed was we had a steady group of adult leaders volunteering. My job was to get the youth involved. One of my favorite leaders, used to scream, “We need more boys. We gotta keep this program going”. I miss him. I’m proud to say my meetings usually had about 100 people attending. Most were scouts. These days we are lucky if we get 10 people in the room.

I had my core group of leaders and volunteers. I appointed them all. One once said, “Yeah you had to be nice to him and have lunch with him the Tottenville High School Library and rehearse the ceremonies. Then you got any position.” Of course he is one my closer buddies. Perhaps that was the case. Or perhaps it was not. I sense someone may comment about how many trunks I used to carry in camp? But that’s in another post…

Many of the fun adults are still around. Some left us for the great campsite in the sky. I hope if I ever get there it looks like Chappy Hill. The Hill I remember. That was my summer camp.

I never stopped volunteering. In my frat, Tau Epsilon Phi, I led tons of community service projects on SUNY New Paltz’s campus.

I’m a Trustee on the Ten Mile River Scout Camps’ Museum committee. I do their PR and am now on the editorial committee for our newsletter, “Smoke Signals”. I could do more with the group. They are my camp family. Many of them watched me grow up. Some of these scouuuuts (our camp joke) met me when I was 12.

About a year and half ago, I had my best Thanksgiving. I was in Tel Aviv and worked with the kids from ELEM/Youth in Distress in Israel. ELEM-Entry NY does lots in the U.S. to help these kids. I am part of it.

I‘ve noticed in all my activities is that no matter how hard you try to bring in new blood, it is always the same group. Whenever new people come to help out we usually wine and dine them to the extreme. Offer them cool patches. Whatever it takes? A few come back.

Sadly it usually the same bunch that grinds it out. There’s nothing wrong with that. We all know who will be late? What everyone will drink? And of course, who will complain about something?

We are the ones who will arrive hours before the event and stay hours later. We will be the most stressed and perhaps the dirtiest. But it is us who will have the most fun. So join the party. You won’t be let down.

Imagine if we could double our attendance? Just think of how many more Eagles would soar or kids could get the help they need?

Any thoughts?

Movies

In the wee hours of the other night, one of my closest friends and I chatted on the phone about movies. We struck a chord about what movies can do to one. We all know there are comedies, dramatic and action movies that take you on an adventure. There is just so much to choose from.

I own tons of them. Saturday night, I decided to stay home and pop one into the DVD player and let the surround sound take me away.

But the choice was do I watch something with ups and downs, i.e. “Chasing Amy” (an all time favorite) or something goofy but funny, i.e. Meatballs or Uncle Buck? But I chose to go deep. Did I need another Kevin Smith movie, i.e. “Clerks” or “Mall Rats”?

It was a long and spiritual day. I was with my extended family. Of course, as much as I love them the alone time was cool. It was needed.

So naturally, I went with a flick that depicts classic struggle. A deep movie in which a young leader had to deal with learning to control himself, care for his friends and how to survive a brutal fight with his father.

This is one of select movies that each time, I watch it I learn something new about the movie and myself. Does one can see oneself as young Luke as he struggles in the Dagobah system under Yoda’s watchful eye? Or does one see oneself as Vader? I know where I stand.

I so love the trips these movies give me.

But then there’s the need for “Girl Interrupted”. Yes it has Angelina and Winona. It doesn’t get much better. But there are thousands of reasons for the need to see this. I will never post my original reason for my love of this film. It has nothing to do with the cast or storyline. The book rocks too. That opens up it even more. It helps give me a better understanding of many of the people I’ve spent time with.

Do you ever think of memories around certain movies? What you learned from them? Or where they took you?

Years ago, I took a girl out on a first date to see “Home Fries”. Some people said, “You’re taking her to see a Drew Barrymore movie?” Those that know me well knew anything with her would be a winner in my book. We had a great time and wound up dating for a while.

On date with a different woman, said she wanted to see “Mr. and Mrs. Smith”. We all know the history behind this movie. Anyway, we were much older than high school kids. However, I felt like we were during this movie. She kept whispering in my ear during the whole movie and smiling. Funny thing there were some scenes where Brad was not wearing a shirt. Angelina was in a sports bra. You’d think she’d be talking about Brad. No she was talking about how hot Angelina is. She got no disagreement from me.

Then there are the fun movies that take you back to certain points in your life, such as WarGames, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Poltergeist. Oh and Brigadoon. I used to watch that on TV. I own it now. When I was younger, I used get the name of one of the character’s wrong. I still call him the name I did when I didn’t pay enough attention.

Bottom line, movies give you so much. Oh as for the ones that teach me something knew each time I see it. They include Episodes 1,2,3,4,5,6. Of course 4-6 are the best. Then there’s “Clerks”, “Mall Rats”, “Dogma”, “Chasing Amy”, “Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back”, “Clerks 2” and of course, “Rent”. But “Rent” is in a class of its’ own because of the original production at the Nederlander.

I’m off to the movies.

Where we are accepted?

Chris Rock’s character in the “MotherF**ker with the Hat” said your only true friends are the ones you make from when you’re five to when you’re around 18. That is possibly one of the best lines ever said on the stage or anywhere else.

Over the few last weeks, I realized I’ve only been truly accepted in two places, the Boy Scouts of America and as a member of Tau Epsilon Phi at SUNY New Paltz. Or not. Yes, Chris Rock is so right. However, you can still do okay once you’re a little or much older. But things change.

I joined the BSA in 1978. It was a great year, the Yankees were the World Champions. In 1983, I spent my first summer on Chappegat Hill (aka “Chappy”). I’ve never been more accepted than I was at Chappy. Those were the best years of my life. I learned so much and made some of my best friends.

I became a member of Tau Epsilon Phi’s (TEP) Tau Eta Epsilon’s chapter at SUNY New Paltz, fall ’89. I was asked to pledge within minutes after I set foot on campus.
I am still friends with dozens of the people from camp and TEP. The frat boys and I have regular gatherings with our sorority sisters from Delta Phi Epsilon. But I have branched out.

One thing I’ve noticed is it is different from when I was growing up from the elementary school days through the college days. In those days all my friends were in the same age group. These days the friendships range from my age range, younger to ancient.

I sometimes wonder if this ok? Like years ago, who would want to hang out with people our parents’ age or those even older? It is fine. It opens one’s mind. You can learn a lot. I’ve heard so much about Brooklyn back in the day when a sandwich and coke were about 35 cents. For about $3 you could have wild and crazy day at Coney Island.

Let’s jump away from Chris Rock and move over to one of my teenage “spokespersons,” Martin L. Gore. There are many interpretations of “People are People”. However, we can all agree that Depeche Mode was trying to sing about us getting along. I know there’s more to it. Maybe in another post, I will dig in deeper. However, for now this works.

When I was in politics we would party nearly every night and the age range went from 18 – 75. Yeah, people of similar age groups sort of stayed together. But it made no difference. We were all together. That group is gone. But that’s politics.

Now I am involved with some many groups of people from all over the world. So maybe I hit the deeper meaning of the DM song. I guess people are people and I can be accepted in lots of places.

Bleach Monster

It was a sunny, but cool early spring afternoon. Murray was sitting in his Bay Terrace apartment reading the New York Times and getting ready to do one of his favorite activities, laundry. Yes, he was laundry boy. He lived in his apartment complexes’ laundry room.

He couldn’t explain it, but washing clothes was therapeutic to him. Yes, it took time and cost money. Most things do. He went to the closet and grabbed his overfilled laundry basket, bleach, detergent and fabric softener. Of course, he had a big collection of quarters, another one of his favorite things. He hoped he could get three machines, so he wouldn’t have to keep running back and forth waiting for people to empty their machine and move the wet clothes to the dryer. He liked getting it all done at once.

He hiked over to his home away from home. The door was shut and the lights were off. That was a good sign. A big smile was on his face as he turned on the lights and got to load his three favorite machines. He started them off and went back to his apartment to listen to music and surf the web.

With a big grin on his face, he strolled back to the laundry room. He tossed his towels and whites into the dryers and carried his t-shirts back to the apartment. Murray never dried his clothes. He was so afraid they’d shrink. So he hung them up all over the apartment, off the refrigerator, on the microwave, every doorknob had a t-shirt or pique polo dangling.

He was smiling every step of the way. Then all of a sudden his eyes were aghast. He saw bleach stains on some of his favorite concert and baseball tees. He knew he didn’t bleach them.

He hung them up and looked at his laundry basket and searched the closet he kept it in. He didn’t see any bleach.

His next step was to follow his usual pattern.

“Mommy, I have a question.”

“Don’t you always?”

“Yeah, but you always have all the answers.”

“I just did laundry and have bleach stains on several of my t-shirts. I know I didn’t put any bleach in the machine. I checked out the places I keep my laundry and there was no bleach. I store this potent liquid away from all clothes. I’m perplexed.”

“Aren’t you always. I don’t know what to tell you. But I will think of something.”

They hung up. Murray flipped on the YES Network and got ready for the Yankees to play the Mariners.

His mom immediately dialed her daughter, Danit. They were one in the same. They loved to make fun of Murray. They were on the phone 24/7 telling stories about him. He did do a lot of dumb things. Danit and her mom cracked up over his bleach story.

Danit lived in the same complex as Murray, as much fun as she made of him. She liked her brother to be nearby.

Several innings later, Murray was deep into the game. Thankfully, the Bronx Bombers were winning 5-2. Danit walked into his apartment without knocking with a smirk on her face.

“I hear there’s a problem with bleach.”

She then walked right into the closet where he kept his laundry, she looked at the cabinets where he stored the laundry detergent and other cleansers. She was a little detective.

“I can’t find any bleach.”

She smiled and walked out.

He just sat there and watched Rivera close out the game.

The next two weeks nothing changed. He continued to do laundry and was attacked by the “Bleach Monster.”

He spent hours upon hours in his head going over his laundry process. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Then he went to the laundry room only to do whites. He loaded the machine with socks and undershirts. He poured some bleach. He was grinning. All of a sudden he dropped the container of bleach while it was still open. It spilled all over him.

Naturally he wrecked another outfit. But he started to twitch and he was making strange sounds. Murray wasn’t the tallest guy in the world. But all of a sudden he grew taller and his jet-black hair turned fire red.

His legs grew, out of his nostrils and hazel green eyes bleach spewed. Was Murray the bleach monster?

He was afraid to leave the laundry room. He wasn’t sure if he could walk back to his apartment. Would he make it? Would he hurt anyone? Would someone call the cops? Not knowing what to do he squished himself into the corner by the slop sink.

He was pale. But feeling strong. His head was spinning. But how could he expect it not to be spinning. His body was still shooting bleach from his nose, eyes and now his mouth started to. He tried to scream and bleach shot of out his mouth like lighting bolts.

He stood for hours by the slop sink. Strange enough, no one entered the laundry room. He thought he was going to cry. But knew he’d shed bleach, not tears.

All of a sudden, he turned back into himself. His clothes were bleach stained and he was dying of thirst. He raced back to his apartment and stripped out of his clothes and jumped into the shower. He was petrified that the water would turn into bleach. But low and behold it was water. He wrapped himself in a towel and ran into the bedroom and passed out in bed.

About three hours later he woke up and got dressed. He decided he’d skip doing laundry for a little while and maybe just drop off his clothes at the Laundromat. But he still had to figure out why he became a bleach monster.
He woke up the next morning and drove to the office. Everything seemed normal. He has his usual conversations- the Yankees, politics and music He hacked away at his job.

He went to the gym and went home. The next few days were more of the same. About a week later he was at work and really pissed off, nothing was going his way. He loved the place, but it was just not his day. One of the idiots from the marketing department annoyed him. He went outside and walked around a bit and had some junk food.

He got back to his desk and saw an obnoxious email from that guy who was bugging him. As luck would have it the bozo walked right by Murray. All of sudden, Murray’s eyes started shooting bleach at him. His hair turned fire-red again and out of his mouth lighting bolts of bleach attacked this chump.

People gathered around and didn’t know what to do. They were afraid to go near Murray. In their hearts they were pleased to see this freak of nature writhe in pain. No one liked this guy, who was now rolling on the floor. But they were not sure what was happening to Murray?

He always told them he wasn’t from Earth. Some of them thought he was nuts. Most believed him. The nervous people went back to their desks and just sat there dumfounded. Murray ran out of the office and went to his vehicle. He sat in it with the A/C pumped and chilled.

He put the car in drive and decided to go home. As he pulled out of the parking lot he was looking exactly as he always did. His head was spinning.

As he crossed the Driscoll Bridge he realized he really was a bleach monster. He wasn’t sure if he should see a doctor or tell anyone. He was afraid he’d be locked up in a government research lab for experiments. What fun.

He wanted to figure out how he could use his new found powers for good. He needed to be able to channel them and use them at his command.

He wasn’t sure if he should go back to work. But he needed the money. So he hopped into his car and headed back. No one mentioned a word. The marketing jerk wasn’t in. That wasn’t unusual. He rarely showed. He was taken to the local hospital after the bleach incident. No one at the office bothered to see how he was doing. It was not like they cared.

Murray worked away and left around 6. On the ride home they way home he stopped at McDonald’s for a shake. While walking out of the Golden Arches he saw a group of crazy teens attacking an old man. The poor old codger was down on the ground and bleeding. The kids kept kicking him.

Murray raced over to the guy and asked him if he was ok. One of the teens kicked Murray. He jumped right up and all of a sudden he started shooting bleach out of his nose. The kicker was bleached. The other teens started running, but not before Murray nailed them with bleach. People were gathering around Murray and the old man. Murray shot out a few extra gallons of bleach at the obnoxious kids and ran out of the parking lot.

An ambulance arrived and took the old man to the hospital. The bleached kids were on the ground wheezing. A few other ambulances arrived and rushed them to the hospital. The police followed the ambulances and placed the kids under arrest while they were being treated in the ER.

Murray calmly walked back to the parking lot and everything was back to normal. Shoppers were going about their business in the shopping center’s stores. He went into the drug store, bought a bottle of water and jumped into his car and drove home.

He was pretty satisfied with his efforts. But he needed to learn how to use his new power without getting attacked first. Next time he sees someone getting hurt he wanted to stop it immediately. He had some research to do.

He needed to find his friend, Adam, a genius. He hadn’t heard from him in years. He knew more about superheroes than anyone. He Googled Adam Tilapia and found his email.
It took Adam, days to write back. But when he finally did, Murray got the answer. He thanked Adam and they promised to keep in touch.

Adam told him not to tell anyone else of his special powers. But he may have to tell Danit, since she may suspect something when she doesn’t see him in and out of the laundry room on a regular basis. Some people hung out in bars. Murray hung out in the laundry room.

He was only supposed to go there when he needed to recharge on bleach. Adam did ask him what his kryptonite would be. Murray wasn’t sure. But he had an idea. He needed to test it first. Murray would have to do more research with his friend, Evan.

For the next few weeks Murray went about his business at work and lived his usual lifestyle. The only thing he did different, was he had his laundry done.

He went to the Stadium and cheered his beloved Yankees. Skillfully, they beat Boston. Big Papi struck out four times and Manny stared at the ball he thought was homer for so long that Johnny Damon nailed him at first after he grabbed it off the leftfield wall.

The next morning he was in the supermarket and chaos broke out. A deranged man with a gun was holding a group of people hostage in the dairy aisle. You could hear sirens blaring in the distance and people were rushing out of the store or hiding in other aisles.

Murray raced to the dairy aisle. To get there he had to run through the aisle that stocked bleach and other cleaners. He eyed the containers of bleach and stopped at the foot of the dairy aisle.

“You what are you doing? Get over there with the other people and keep your hands where I can see them,” shrieked the gunman.

Shots were fired into several gallon containers of milk.

“If anyone fails to obey they will be my next shot. You will see pools of blood, not milk.”

People were screaming. Little kids started to cry, as their moms held them.

He stared at Murray.

“You in the white t-shirt.”

Murray looked the gunman straight in the eyes and belted out, “Yes?”

“That shirt is gonna be pretty red if you keep staring at me like that.”

Murray started laughing like a hyena.

“I’m not concerned as I walked over to this aisle, I walked right passed the one that sells bleach. It’ll come out.”

The man made like he was going to pull the trigger. Murray opened his eyes as wide as he could. He sneezed next.

“Bless you and you sure will need your blessings.”

As the gunman cackled out his last words he was sprayed with bleach, as it shot out of Murray’s nose. He was sneezing bleach aimed like a projectile into the gunman’s eyes and hitting him all over the face.

The gunman fell to ground, Murray stood over him and bleached his whole body.

The police were pulling into the parking lot and the now relieved shoppers were cheering Murray on. Of course, he was figuring out how to run out of the supermarket before the cops waltzed in.

Murray had to act quickly. The gunman was down for the count. At this point the cops and EMTs could handle him. He had to run. He was out of breath. He couldn’t let that hold him back.

People were moving their heads to stare at Murray and the gunman. Some were hurrying out of the store. Murray’s perfect vision caught everyone staring at the pools of bleach and he raced out of the dairy aisle.

Slowly he was turning back into his human form. He caught his breath and headed for the door. Several cops were running in. He walked right passed them toward his Altima.

He put the key in the ignition and drove away. He just kept driving. He had no idea where he was going. Eventually, he went home and logged on to the Net.

He was aghast when he saw a story about his little episode on his hometown newspaper’s Website. Jessica Roumerot penned the story.

He immediately dialed Danit.

“Hey Danit, did you see the story about what went on in the supermarket that’s about a block from us?”

“Yeah, one of the interns was there picking up milk and saw the whole thing. She texted the story into the newsroom.”

“Interesting. Anyway, I’m about to light the grill wanna come over for a burger?”

“Sure, I will be there in about 15 minutes, what’ my side dish?”

“Chips.”

Lighter fluid was poured on the coals and within seconds the flames were blazing. Billy Joel was cranking. Danit strolled in.

“Hey Danit. So what’s with this Jessica girl? Have you taken her under your wing?”

“I talk to her. She’s a nice girl. Attends Rutgers. A junior I think. I was in the newsroom when she sent the copy in off her BlackBerry. She wasn’t able to get a photo. We would have loved that.”

“I’m sure.”

“Did she say what he looked like?”

“Well she said he was wearing jean shorts, a white tee and sneakers. His hair was red and he was about 5’2 and slim.”

“Was that when he was shooting out the bleach or before?”

‘In action, she didn’t catch him before he turned into the bleach monster.”

“Oh well. Do you think more stories will be written or is this a freak thing?”

“It is definitely freaky. You seem so interested. Oh yeah, I forgot you have problems with bleach. You better be good, there’s a crazy bleach monster out there now.”

Danit was giggling so much that she got caught in a pickle. The coals were ready for Murray to toss the well-marinated burgers on the grill. He tossed them on and Danit tore open the chips. Billy was singing about Brenda and Eddie.

The two of them sat on chairs on the tiny terrace and watched the burgers, while sipping Sierra Nevada.

Murray flipped the burgers and tossed the buns on. They needed to be nice and toasty.

They sat silently for a few minutes.

“So are you still having problems when you do your laundry?”

“No, I have it done now.”

“Well it’s about time. At least you won’t spill bleach all over yourself any longer.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

He took the burgers off the grill and they wolfed them down. Danit was itching to leave. Her theory was come, be fed and run.

“Well, the burgers were great. Do you actually have any ice cream? I know you are not one for that. But sometimes you surprise me.”

He smiled and walked away for a minute or two. Or much longer.

“Here,” he said as he handed her Nestle Crunch ice cream bar. She smiled. He opened his.

“Tell me more about Jessica.”

“Please don’t let this become one of your stupid things you bug me about. You’ve been better lately.“

“I’m the bleach monster.”

Danit almost fell into a pickle again. But for some reason she picked herself up and stared at him.

“Yeah right, I know you spill bleach everywhere, even though you think you are so careful. But come on how can you be the bleach monster? You are a monster, but I don’t think you’re this type.”

“I am and you have to be on my side. You can’t let this become a story. We can do some cool things to help people if you keep the paper away.”

“Hmm so Lois Lane or Peter Parker we aren’t. If you can convince me you are the bleach monster. I will work with you. But I could win an award for bringing you out.”

“Wouldn’t you rather see decent people get some help when they are in trouble?”

“Yes, but you have to prove you are the bleach monster and I’m on your side. Does this mean I have to spend more time with you?”

“Probably.”

“How nauseating.”

“Glad you love me so much.”

“I do, later. Time to go home. Good night, Bleach Monster.”

Murray was pleased. As much as Danit would tease him, he knew she’d do everything she could to help him. She is a great sister, but a strange one.

Murray mapped out his Sunday and jumped into bed.

A few days later, Murray and Danit were strolling along 8th Street and Astor Place. Murray got a haircut and Danit just hung around. She was in and out of Barnes & Noble, Benetton and the Gap. She was lugging around a few bags.

All of a sudden a deranged guy was attacking some NYU students. At one time Danit was one of them. He was holding a knife to a young girl’s throat. Her friends were panic stricken.

Murray calmly walked over to scene.

“Why don’t you leave the poor girl alone?”

The man was drunk and higher than a kite. He snarled, as his made a cutting motion with the knife in the air and then moved it back to her throat.

“All of you think you are so artsy. My artwork will be slicing open your throat and watching your blood pour out all over your clothes.”

Murray couldn’t take it anymore. He felt himself burning up. Suddenly, bleach shot right out of his eyes splattering the man wielding the knife, which he dropped onto the sidewalk.

Bleach was now shooting out his of ears. The man was screaming and screaming. Murray stopped shooting bleach and caught the subway. Danit was just steps behind him.

Little Yellow Rowing Hood

Little Yellow Rowing Hood


October 19, 2003 (originally written in 1985)

Once upon a time, in a land not too far away, there lived a family called Hood. There was mother and father Hood and the most famous Little Red Riding Hood. But now I am going to tell the tale of her younger brother, Little Yellow Rowing Hood. He got his name from the yellow pullover sweatshirt granny made for him and from the rowboat grandpa built.

“Mommy, I’m going to Manhattan (granny and grandpa moved to the city, because every time granny saw a wolf she went crazy) to spend the weekend with grandpa.” Granny was running the National Convention for Grandmothers Who Were Eaten by Wolves and Survived.

“Okay son bring the brownies I baked for him and the nails your father forged in the shop,” said mom. “Bye, Mom, I’ll see you Sunday.”

“And don’t talk to strangers or stop off anywhere. Go straight to grandpa’s and if you see a wolf when you’re going to your boat, run! And have a nice time.”

So he left with his little dog, Harvey. He was walking though the woods killing ants and collecting wood for a project to build with grandpa. He was at the boat, putting in his belongings when all of a sudden a wolf popped out from a hole in the ground. “I am the wolf who ate your sister and I’ve come to eat you,” he said.

Little Yellow Rowing Hood threw a rock at him and missed. The wolf laughed, so he threw another one and hit the wolf. It charged at the frightened boy. The wolf was about to eat him, when all of a sudden a magical bear jumped out of the water. The bear magically transformed the wolf into a blade of grass. The boy, watched from behind a stone, fell in love with the bear. He went to the bear to thank him.

The bear said,” grr, are you all right?”

“Yes,” said the boy. The bear gave him a magic oar, a book and a ring. “I am Jingle, the magic bear of Narrowsburg. Always keep the book and ring. Use the oar in time of trouble. When you cross the lake, my brother will be there to escort you to the bus stop and wait with you. Goodbye.” They waved goodbye to each other.

Little Yellow Rowing Hood got in his boat and rowed along using the regular oar and the magic one. He thought to himself, “I wonder how it will help me.” He continued paddling. When he reached the other side he packed up his belongings and docked his boat.

As he was told, another bear greeted him.

“Hi, I am Big of Monticello, I will take you to the bus stop.” Little Yellow Rowing Hood talked to him as they walked through the woods to the bus stop.

While in the woods, a fox, a friend of the wolf ran after the two. Big quickly turned him into an acorn. They finally got to the bus stop. Big said goodbye to Little Yellow Rowing Hood. He gave him lunch for his wait after transferring buses.

He got on the bus and got his transfer ticket. It was a long ride. He thought to himself, “Gee, nobody would ever believe me about the bears and I better not tell mommy I talked to them.” The ride ended. He was at the stop waiting to get on the next bus. He sat down to eat his lunch. He threw out his lunch bag.

The next bus arrived and as he was boarding he realized he left his transfer in his lunch bag. The mean old bus driver yelled at him. “Come on you little creep you’re holding me up.” Little Yellow Rowing Hood looked for his bus pass, thinking he could use it. He couldn’t find that either.

Then he dropped the magic oar, which turned into four quarters. The driver was amazed and apologized to him. The ride seemed to take forever. He told the driver about the bears and the oar. The driver believed him.

He was already late and worried that his mommy called grandpa to see if he were there. He was running through the streets. He got near his grandparents apartment and knew of a shortcut through an old dirty alley.

“Mom always warned me about using this shortcut. But I must get there fast.” He ran through the alley as fast as he could because of the terrible stench. All of a sudden a large sewer rat approached him and said, “What’s in the knapsack?” The boy knew he was unlike the bears.

He ran, but the rat ran faster. The rat pulled off the knapsack with its teeth and found his grandfather’s address, which his mother has written into it in case the boy had to ask a police officer for directions. The boy cried and cried.

He read the book Jingle gave him. It said, if you get into trouble run to grandpa fast. He did. Upon arrival, he found that the rat had already gobbled up grandpa. He was hysterical. Then he heard the voice of the ring, “Put me on the tail of the rat.”

Little Yellow Rowing Hood followed the instructions. For about five minutes, nothing happened. Then the mouth of the rat opened and out walked grandpa. The rat disappeared.

The ring fell back on the boy’s finger. He told grandpa his story. Grandpa believed him and then they went out for ice cream.

Pool

10/9/05

Well, my pool closed a few weeks ago. It was sad. I sure miss it.

While I was there I asked myself numerous questions? Why do people come to the pool and sit and stare at the water, but never jump in and get wet? Why do some people just float around for a few minutes, while forgoing laps or just fooling around? For me it is a workout routine and just fun to horse around. Whether it’s doing lap upon lap or playing games with the little kids. They give me a new name every summer. This year it was Virgil.

Day after day, I witnessed more and more people stroll out to the pool, but never go in. They brought their pre-sun, a book, a beer and towels. But they never went it. Some blasted radios. We sat and talked politics, baseball, what we were grilling for dinner and what movie we just caught. What is it about a body of water that draws people to it? Was it always that way?

In ancient times did people sit out by the seas, oceans, rivers and streams, drink ale, etch a tablet, read one and just catch a tan? Most likely this scenario has been going since day one and will continue until the world ends.

Sit back and imagine our ancestors by a body of water. Did they worry how they looked in their bathing suits? Did they even wear one? Were they trying to lose weight by doing laps? Were they trying to relax after a tough day of hunting for their meal? They didn’t have the supermarket or deli to go to purchase a steak or burger. No, they had to hunt and fish for their sustenance. They had to grill everything over an open fire because there were no ovens or stoves.

Did they cut deals with warring people from enemy tribes? Were they deals of peace or did it foster more war? Both.

So, on the last day I did all my strokes: butterfly, side, breast, elementary backstroke and freestyle. More than likely I added in a few more. I threw in some surface diving. Naturally, the summer was spent doing that. Then I jumped out of the pool, said my goodbyes and grilled something while listening to a CD and reading some magazine.

Disappointing it ended, but next year the same will happen. I wonder what my name will be?