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?