Fudd goes Back to School

Fudd goes Back to School

October 28, 2012

I’ve yearning to walk the grounds of SUNY-New Paltz for far too long. Finally, I borrowed my sister’s car and cruised up there via the Garden State Parkway and NY State Thruway. I’m a creature of habit.

‘Ya see when I used to drive home from school, as a student, I would listen to my U2 Boy and October cassettes. Remember cassettes? On the way up, I listened to whatever, I wanted to. This time, listened to some great 80s mixes, the Cure, U2, Depeche Mode, Erasure, Echo and the Bunnymen. And well, Raspberry Beret came on, too. WTF? Yeah, it may sound weird that I added to Prince to the aforementioned bands. But he’s cool.

I felt the warmest feeling, as I pulled off the Thruway at Exit 18 and drove down Main Street. I drove past My Hero Pizza. Years ago; my New Paltz girlfriend celebrated her 19th birthday, while working on campus that summer. I visited her. After spending a day in Minnewaska State Park, we shared pepperoni pizza at My Hero. Neither one of us will touch pepperoni anymore. Ah, days gone by.

I drove past Joe’s. That bar was a hike from the main campus. They used to have bus service on Thursday nights. Guys had to be 21 to get in. But I had a connection and got in at younger age. Girls could get in at 18. They served them beer, too. I used to think Joe’s was this huge bar. Boy does it look small. Things sure change when you get older.

I drove past Murphy’s, P&G’s and of course, Gourmet Pizza. Wings-n-Things is gone. So is Thesis. I loved that place. Once it closed it became many things. For the last few years, it has been Neko Sushi.

One of my bros used to bounce there. So I got in and served whatever drink I wanted years before I was 21. I have great memories of Thesis. The owner was a nice guy. One night, he stopped the music and said, "The police just called and told me they are coming to raid us in about 10 minutes. For those of you under 21, finish your beer. Get your asses out of here. Go get some pizza and come back in about 20 minutes. “

We did just that.

One Thursday, I was in my room in Crispell Hall. It was quite late. For some odd reason, I had a Friday class. The phone rings. It was some girl I was dating. She was piss drunk and begging me to get her. I immediately jumped into my Cadillac, picked her up and threw her into my bed. I slept on the floor. I am a good boy. Still am.

As you can tell, as I drove down Main Street my mind flooded back to being 19 or 20. I parked my car at South Side Terrace Apartments, where I lived my senior year. I took a nice walk around the complex. I walked to my old apt, 3H. I shot some photos of the terrace and headed to Main Street.

An older "hippyish" woman was walking her dog. She said hello to me. I told her I was visiting and that I graduated 20 years ago. We chatted. I handed her my camera and asked her to shoot a photo of me. She got nervous. I think she was so trapped in her hippy days she had no idea how to shoot with a digital camera. But she took a nice picture.

I grabbed some Gourmet Pizza. Man, I ate it at around noon. In the old days, I would have eaten it around 4:00 a.m. It was one of our stops on the way home from our weekend or weekday bar hopping. It is still delicious. Even when you’re sober.

I strolled down Main Street and passed Ariel Dental Car. Back in the day, Ariel’s was the off campus, I believe cash only bookstore. Years later, it turned into Border’s. We know what happened to them. Now it is a dental center.

I hiked up to campus. I came upon Old Main and a few other buildings. I was so happy. I walked by Shango, “Go Shango”. Many of friends resided in this hall. I took a walk to the parking lot. That’s for another post. Or not.

I was in all my glory being home at New Paltz. Those days mean so much to me. As I walked along the beautiful campus there were many tours going on. Tons of high school students were there with their parents seeing the school for the first time. I hope not the last time.

I walked into the Lecture Center and strolled into the room where I took World War Two with Professor Lee. Then I walked into the adjacent building and walked next to the room where I took Israel in World Politics with “Lew the Jew”. That was Dr. Brownstein. The class was nearly all-Jewish kids. Lots of really cute girls were in that course. Us dumb partying students called it the “Jew Class”. Man we were immature.

I made my way into the Sojourner Truth Library. They are doing lots of renovations. The Quiet Study Hall is now the Media Center. They moved the Quiet Study Hall downstairs. The private study rooms now require a key to use. They are the size of closets. I used to study in there. One day, I was so hung over, I went to my first class. Then had an hour break between classes. I tried to study in one of the little closets. I put my head down and woke up around 7 hours later.

I kept going and went to the Dorsky Art Museum. That wasn’t there when I was a student. I looked at some beautiful pieces of art. I walked out and heard one of the tour guides pointing out the science building and saying the planetarium is in there. I don’t remember it. Not sure if it was there when I was a student. But I was so spaced out anyway. I didn’t need one.

I walked into the Student Union Building. I visited New Paltz Nov. 2003. The campus was very different than when I went there. But this building was still pretty much the same. Boy did it change.

I walked in on the second floor and took the elevator up to the fourth floor. I strolled over to where the Activities Assistants live. For about a year, I lived in one of those rooms. I think it was Room # 425 or 427. I did a mental map. I can remember the neighbors we had. Oh, I was not an activities assistant. I just crashed with one.

Anyway, I went down to the Food Court. It is now called the Hawk’s Nest. The food still looks gross. But the eateries changed. Outside of it is still some salad place and now two lounges that used to be the bookstore. That moved downstairs. By the salad store was also the area where I used to pick up my New York Times and flowers for whatever girl I was with. They always got lots of stuff from me.

I walked into the lounge. They were using it as a registration center for the tours. They asked me if I was interested in going to New Paltz. I loved it. I told them I graduated 20 years ago. We joked around for a few minutes and I was on my way down to the bookstore.

I went down to the bookstore and bought some t-shirts, a hat and winter hat for my nephew.

Then I exited the SUB and crossed the Gunk via Bridge #1. Don’t worry, fellow TEPs, I bowed before I crossed the bridge and said, the “Bridgebuilder”. I even made a few students shoot photos of me doing this.

The Gunk now has a sprinkler near Bridge #1. I don’t remember that when I was there. My eyes opened wide when I saw Crispell Hall. My college life started there. I walked in and saw the Resident Assistants. We chatted for a few minutes.

The dorm was completely renovated about a year ago. My suite is gone. All of the old suites are gone. The old payphone is gone. Well that was gone one night at about 4:00 a.m. One of my friend’s bros came to visit us for the weekend. He kicked the phone off the wall. Maybe it is better that my suite is gone. Who knows what the walls would say if they could talk? They saw me at my best and worst of times. At least this hall is still a 24-hour quiet study hall. Not that it was ever quiet.

I exited my old hall and went into Hasbrouck Dining Hall. Oscars or the Rat is gone. It became Hawk Street Station. But is now closed. There’s a little late night convenience store next to it. You can buy chips and soda.

I walked up the steps to the Hasbrouck Dining Hall. The place looks the same. Some minor changes took place. But it is still pretty much the same. It still smells the same. The food still looks nasty. I worked in that establishment during my school years. I was the B&C guy, beverages and condiments. I refilled the salad bar and the soda machines. Sometimes I slopped food on people’s plates or washed dishes. Once the cart with all the dishes fell on me. Oil splattered all over me.

It was not pretty. I got a few burns and spent the next day in a few doctors’ offices at home on Staten Island.

I left the dining hall and went to Bevier Hall. That’s another one of my residence halls. That one has not yet been renovated. It looks the same. I walked in and asked to take a look around the staff, said, “We usually let the tour guides do that. Did you get lost on the tour?” I said, no, “I graduated in 1992 and used to live here”. They thought I was one of the high school kids checking out the campus. Cool. They wouldn’t let me stroll through the building Bevier was a party hall. Funny, the quiet study hall staff had no cares about me walking around. The party building staff was careful.

I crossed Bridges Two and Three. Yes, I bowed. I walked to Bridge # Four. There were some kids smoking on it. Nothing legal. Years, I ago I had my moments smoking on it, too. But it was not cigarettes or pot. We were smoking. But hey, like the Shango lot, that’s for another post. Or not.

I went to what’s left of the Tripping Fields. Most of that section is a now new residence hall. I went to the gym. They built a brand new one. The old one is still connected to the new one. It looks like a trendy health club.

I strolled around a little more. I passed by Bliss Hall, which during my days was the only all female dorm. Of course, at about two in the morning when they did fire drills many guys walked out of the dorm. So much for it really being an all female dorm. On paper it was. Maybe they wanted to get the guys out of there.

I passed the other Halls that were there when I was a student. Hung out at the Gunk one more time and walked back to Main Street to P&G’s. I hung out at the bar for a while and left. While I was there, the bar was full of the townies. About three or four hours later the place would be mad packed with students. I wonder if they still play the same tape? Every weekend they played one tape with the same songs. I just made that mix on iTunes. It features the Beatles, U2, Jimi Hendrix, Billy Joel, Elton John and a few others.

Sadly, P&G’s no longer has live entertainment when the college kids are there getting wasted.

I left P&G’s walked down Main Street. I went back to my car at South Side and waved goodbye. I drove home to Boy and October.

Man how I miss that place. I need to get back up there with my brothers and sisters. Go TEP and DPHIE. I love you all.

Oh, I called it “Fudd Goes back to School” because my pledge name is, Fudd.

Sachsenhausen Memorial

I’ve wanted to write this. Yet I’ve been reluctant. At the end of the summer, I spent a few weeks in Russia and Germany. I knew when I was in Berlin; I was going to go to the Jewish Museum. I did some Googling and found out that the “model concentration” camp, Sachsenhausen was about an hour from Berlin. When I say model, when the Nazis built it they claimed it was the architectural model of future camps. In other words, the other ones would be built based on the way his one was constructed. Tears are literally coming out of my eyes, as I type. For weeks, I debated whether I was going to go. I researched every tour on Google. I emailed all of the tour guides. Finally, I settled on the one I’d take. But for weeks, I was not willing to enter my credit card information to reserve a spot. But I did. I arrived in Berlin from St. Petersburg. I spent the first day in the Jewish Museum. I spent hours there. Parts of it were magical. It illustrated all the great things we did and how we really are the chosen people. Then it turned dark. I knew that would happen. Eventually, I made it over to Checkpoint Charlie and well felt the greatest sense of American pride that I’ve felt in well, far too many years. That’s for another blog post. The next morning I woke up and walked to the meeting place near the Brandenburg gate. I was there very early and spent some time at the Denkmal für die ermordeten Juden Europas (Memorial for Murdered Jews of Europe). I walked through it and left some rocks on the stones. They weren’t graves. But there is no solid explanation of why the artist built the memorial the way he did. There are many stories. But one’s imagination runs wild when they walk these grounds. At least mine did. Some say that was the artist’s intent. I walked over to my tour’s meeting place at Starbucks. The tour guide told me where to purchase my train ticket. I did. It so irked me that I was taking a train to visit a concentration camp. Actually, that’s one of the reasons; it took me so long to reserve a spot on the tour. It would be my first ride on a German train. As we made our way down the steps to the platform, I was really nervous. Yes, I ride the NYC subway everyday. But this was different. Much cleaner. However, it was very different. We boarded the train. I sat down next to the guide and her dad, who visiting from Down Under. The group were all English-speaking Americans. People started chatting. Not me. My mind drifted. Yes, I was an on a very clean, fairly empty fast moving subway. But in my mind, I was on a jammed packed train loaded with Jews being taken to the camp. That’s all I thought of. I did look up at times and enjoyed the scenery. It was beautiful. But my mind kept drifting back to the concentration camp train car on display at Yad Vashem. My mind was filled with images of the millions of people taken from their homes, families and lives, as they knew them. The train stopped. We were going to walk to the camp. That is the way the Jews and other prisoners were brought to Sachsenhausen. They were marched in from the train. But we took a bus. I have never been on a bus more crowded than the one we boarded in Orangeburg. The camp was two or three stops away. I couldn’t move while standing on the bus. I could barely breathe. My mind was spinning. We pushed our way off the bus and walked a few blocks. All of a sudden the giant wall, which was the entrance, hit me in the face. We walked in. The guide pointed toward the bathrooms. We all took a bathroom break and walked around the “welcome center”. That was built when the camp became a tourist attraction. Concentration camps had no welcome centers. No one was welcome there. No one was welcome to be there. We learned on our tour that the prisoners were only allowed to use the bathroom upon wake up time, right before bed and sometimes during the work breaks. But work breaks rarely occurred. I never thought how lucky I was to be able to walk into a restroom. We started walking along the main road. We saw the training ground for the SS. Then we saw the Commandants Mess Hall. Prisoners cooked and served their food. We continued our walk. Shortly, we arrived at the Registration Field. It was at this site where whatever belongings the people were able to bring were confiscated. It was here where their identities were confiscated. They were given prison camp uniforms. Tall people got small sized uniforms. Short people got giant-sized ones. Heavy and skinny people received the opposite of their size. This was done to embarrass them. Their heads were shaved. They received their ID numbers. Each prisoner’s uniform had symbolic color codes according to why they were there. Jews were yellow, communists were red and gays were pink. There were other prisoners too. But the Jews were the lowest of the low. We then went to the work fields. It was here where the prisoners slaved all day from the wee hours of the morning in the latest hours of the night. We heard stories about the “neutral zones”. Nothing was neutral. They once took. Well most probably more than once took a prisoner’s hat and tossed it into this zone. Of course, they weren’t allowed in. But they were ordered to go. They were shot on site if they went in to get their hats or if they refused orders to go in. We were walking along and just gazing at these giant fields and imagining the terror that occurred. I felt so embarrassed to be munching on my cheese and tomato sandwich and sipping my bottled water. I ate more food and drunk more water in the span of an hour or two than what the prisoners got in weeks. I took small bites and walked along. We saw the guard towers. We walked to the Jewish barracks. Most of the barracks were destroyed after the Soviets liberated the camp. When it was decided to memorialize the camp, some were rebuilt out of the scraps of what was left. I went into two of the barracks. Horrifying. They had two tiny washbasins for dozens of inmates who slept on the most uncomfortable bunk beds. There was no privacy. They had rows of toilets lined up next to the washbasins. People drowned in the basins. Multiple people were forced to bathe at once. These basins could barely fit one person. Yet they made 8 or more squeeze in. We exited the barracks and entered the prison. Then we went to the kitchen. They had a giant potato basin. Often they put kitchen workers in the basin with ice-cold water to freeze them to death. There was some graffiti painted in the basement. Allegedly, “sympathetic” Nazis let it stay. A kitchen worker, who was a Jewish prisoner tried to sneak out with the equivalent of a half a stick of margarine. A guard caught him. The poor man was forced to sit in the tub of margarine and eat as much as he could. He was then taken outside and other prisoners jumped up and down on his stomach. He was then hung to a gallows. They let him off and went through this procedure again. It went on all night. They then hung him up again. The next morning the guards found his corpse hanging off the gallows. We then saw the memorial the Soviets erected for liberating the camp. We got to think about the liberation for only a moment. We were led to Station Z, the execution site. I walked along the entrance to the firing squad. Then we entered the “Examination Rooms”. No one performing the examinations were MDs or RNs. Jews and others were examined for gold fillings and other things. Experiments were performed. Then the people were brought to the ovens. At first the Nazis sold the ashes of those they killed to their families. Eventually they were gassing so many people at once they had no clue whose ashes were whose. As we walked out of the crematorium I saw a memorial. It was filled with Yazhreit candles and on the base was the Israeli flag. Our guide informed us that about two weeks before a group of Israelis toured the camp and led a Yizkor service in the crematorium. We walked out of this awful place and wound up in front of one of the many ash pits. Here is where thousands of Jews, gays, communists and other Nazi prisoners were buried. More and more ash pits are being discovered. We went into the pathology lab and saw the examination tables where the so-called “doctors” performed tests on thousands of Jews. Funny considering we were considered the inferior race they did many tests to “learn” how to save people. They saved no one. We exited the camp and walked back to the train station. Most of us purchased ice cream or a soda. We boarded the train and went back to Berlin. We were lucky we got to go on the train and were free to get off at whatever stop we wanted. Nothing is sicker than what I saw. I never felt more relieved when I freely walked out. Thousands of people never walked out.

May Hashem watch over their souls'.

B”H

Camp

Camp

Today, I spent the day at the American Museum of Natural History (AMHN). I got there at about 1:00 p.m. There were tons of camp groups wandering through the museum. I knew this would happen. This would piss off some museum goers. But I loved it.

I wandered through the mammal’s wing. A bunch of kids stood in front of the wolves. They shrieked, “Wolf”. They all tapped on the glass and yelled, “You can’t get me”. They all smiled and went to the next exhibit.

Most of these kids were day campers. I did see a group wearing t-shirts that said their camp hailed from the “Old Dominion” state. Maybe they were on trip in into the City that Never Sleeps.

I too, went to camp. Camp Chappegat (aka “Chappy Hill), part of Ten Mile River Scouts Camps, located in Narrowsburg, N.Y. Mine was summer camp. I lived there for many weeks during my summer. It was the greatest experience of my life. Nothing can replace. I was 12 when arrived on the Hill. Sometimes I still feel like I am 12, and on the Hill. I made more lifelong friends than I can ever count. I still speak to dozens of them everyday.

So while these kids in the AMNH were on a camp field trip, I thought back to the trips we took. We went on many. Yeah, we went to Hall of Fame in Cooperstown to pay our respects to team that the building was built for, the 27-Time World Champions. We went to Callicoon to bowl. We went to Action Park. I fell off the Alpine Slide. It was painful. And, who can forget our, Super Week banquet in El Monaco’s. Man how I miss the red sauce.

We enjoyed these trips. But I must say and I surely hope my fellow “Scouuuuuuts” will agree that our best trips were the ones we did right in the vicinity of our blessed camp.

We had bog hikes. What could be more fun than playing in a bog? We went to Father Meyers Swimming Hole. It had a giant tree with a rope tied around it. We climbed up the tree and grabbed the rope. We swung on it, until we fell into the swimming hole. We swam around a little and climbed right back up our tree.

On Saturdays we had leanto inspections and hiked out to Bob Landers. Most of us had the two hamburgers, fries and soft drink special. Then we hiked to the Delaware and Ten Mile Rivers to swim. We hiked back up to our beloved hill. We had a great BBQ and then our famous campfires. We had skits that would have won more Tony’s than any Broadway drama or musical. We were that talented.

TMR is huge. We went on many hikes. My favorites were lead by an alumnus. He used to come up and stay on the Hill each summer for about three weeks. He used to teach me all sorts of things about the camp. He became my mentor. I still consider him my leader.

He would take us to D-1. His camp. On the way, he would point out historic sites, the dining hall, old cabins and other stuff. Sadly, None of these buildings remain. Well one was actually moved to our Camp Museum in headquarters. He took us to the “Asshole”.

The Asshole is two large rocks with openings that resemble, the aforementioned. I visited about three summers ago. It is still there.

We went on other great trips in camp. We went to the old saw mill, we hiked through closed down sites and dreamed of what went on there.

Sadly, camp Chappy closed after 1988. But everyday, especially during the summer, I still dream about the fun we had there. Oh Chappy, boy do I miss you.


I would love to carry a scouuuuuuts’ trunk up the hill.
CH CH CH AP AP AP EG EG EG AT, Chappegat, Chappegat, Yeah Chappegat.

There are places I remember

There are places I remember “There are places I remember, though some have changed.” I think we all have those places. But only a select few have the Hill: Chappegat Hill (Chappy). It is located in Ten Mile River Scout Camp, Narrowsburg, N.Y. At one time it had been its own camp. When I was there it was part of Camp Kunatah. Chappy closed after the summer of ’88. Kunatah closed several years later. TMR is still running. But not at the capacity it used to. A few weeks ago, a brush fire hit Chappy. Other areas north of the hill were also hit. None of us Chappy campers knew the extent of the damage. We were told the man-made structures (there were not many left) survived. A few days ago, someone known as my leader went up to camp to do some work for the TMR Museum. Naturally, he went to Chappy. A visit to TMR is not a visit if you don’t spend time on the Hill. He saw first hand how this brush fire devastated the remains of the childhood stomping grounds of countless Scouts. He reported back to the individual that served as the chairman of the Troop committee and assistant scoutmaster during the summer camp season. Immediately an email was sent to our scoutmaster and myself. We were devastated. Within a few hours our, ASM sent an email to dozens of former campers. Now some of us are still in touch with each other on a daily basis. Some of us haven’t been in touch in years. But as soon at that email went out everyone was in tears. For us, Chappy is where we grew up. Hundreds upon hundreds of emails flew. We were all devastated. We all started talking about our favorite Chappy moments. These moments included famous camp sayings, activities and more important our teen friendships. I brought up my memories of being the camp vampire. I used to stay up all night. Very often, I would sit at the picnic table by the Palace (the office) in the wee hours of the night. We talked about our famous dead fish fights on our canoe trips. You see our SM would pile up dead fish into his canoe. Anyone who paddled by was fair game to be whacked in the head, chest, or limbs with a dead fish. Other memories included movie night usually the mindless 80s movies. Of course, I own many of them and watch them religiously. We talked about our famous Action Park trips. I fell off the Alpine slide in ’86. We talked about the red stuff that our favorite Italian restaurant, El Monaco’s, poured onto everything, even the salad. The red stuff was their marinara sauce. Across from El Monaco’s was Candy Cone. A cute little ice cream shack with two broken video games. I visited in 1999. It was still the same. Sadly, these places, like our Hill are gone. In 1984, I scored the winning run for the Sigh Figh Space Gators patrol. We won the softball game and that run put us over the top and made us the Chappy Olympic champs. I still have my Gold Medal. In ’85 a few campers and I made much fun of the kid that used to eat his feet. To punish us, our SM made us clean up the whole blow out party. We spent the night cleaning the dining hall and scrubbing lots of pots. We had a great time. Over the last few days, we all shared timeless memories. Of course one particular area we talked about was the latrine. The camp staff torched the precious latrine shortly after camp closed. But in our minds it is still our hub. One camper spent his entire summer sitting on his seat. It was his social network. This was way before Facebook or Linkedin. Well I can go on for thousands of pages. But you get the point. We love camp. We are saddened by the recent turn of events. But maybe it is for the better. We are not there anymore. Our memories will live forever. Nature will rebuild this beautiful site. One day, some of us will take our kids to see where we grew up. It’ll look different. But our spirit will be felt.

There are places I remember “There are places I remember, though some have changed.” I think we all have those places. But only a select few have the Hill: Chappegat Hill (Chappy). It is located in Ten Mile River Scout Camp, Narrowsburg, N.Y. At one time it had been its own camp. When I was there it was part of Camp Kunatah. Chappy closed after the summer of ’88. Kunatah closed several years later. TMR is still running. But not at the capacity it used to. A few weeks ago, a brush fire hit Chappy. Other areas north of the hill were also hit. None of us Chappy campers knew the extent of the damage. We were told the man-made structures (there were not many left) survived. A few days ago, someone known as my leader went up to camp to do some work for the TMR Museum. Naturally, he went to Chappy. A visit to TMR is not a visit if you don’t spend time on the Hill. He saw first hand how this brush fire devastated the remains of the childhood stomping grounds of countless Scouts. He reported back to the individual that served as the chairman of the Troop committee and assistant scoutmaster during the summer camp season. Immediately an email was sent to our scoutmaster and myself. We were devastated. Within a few hours our, ASM sent an email to dozens of former campers. Now some of us are still in touch with each other on a daily basis. Some of us haven’t been in touch in years. But as soon at that email went out everyone was in tears. For us, Chappy is where we grew up. Hundreds upon hundreds of emails flew. We were all devastated. We all started talking about our favorite Chappy moments. These moments included famous camp sayings, activities and more important our teen friendships. I brought up my memories of being the camp vampire. I used to stay up all night. Very often, I would sit at the picnic table by the Palace (the office) in the wee hours of the night. We talked about our famous dead fish fights on our canoe trips. You see our SM would pile up dead fish into his canoe. Anyone who paddled by was fair game to be whacked in the head, chest, or limbs with a dead fish. Other memories included movie night usually the mindless 80s movies. Of course, I own many of them and watch them religiously. We talked about our famous Action Park trips. I fell off the Alpine slide in ’86. We talked about the red stuff that our favorite Italian restaurant, El Monaco’s, poured onto everything, even the salad. The red stuff was their marinara sauce. Across from El Monaco’s was Candy Cone. A cute little ice cream shack with two broken video games. I visited in 1999. It was still the same. Sadly, these places, like our Hill are gone. In 1984, I scored the winning run for the Sigh Figh Space Gators patrol. We won the softball game and that run put us over the top and made us the Chappy Olympic champs. I still have my Gold Medal. In ’85 a few campers and I made much fun of the kid that used to eat his feet. To punish us, our SM made us clean up the whole blow out party. We spent the night cleaning the dining hall and scrubbing lots of pots. We had a great time. Over the last few days, we all shared timeless memories. Of course one particular area we talked about was the latrine. The camp staff torched the precious latrine shortly after camp closed. But in our minds it is still our hub. One camper spent his entire summer sitting on his seat. It was his social network. This was way before Facebook or Linkedin. Well I can go on for thousands of pages. But you get the point. We love camp. We are saddened by the recent turn of events. But maybe it is for the better. We are not there anymore. Our memories will live forever. Nature will rebuild this beautiful site. One day, some of us will take our kids to see where we grew up. It’ll look different. But our spirit will be felt.

First Game of the Season

We all have something we’ve been counting down the days till it arrives. Let me preface this by saying, I am super active. I see two-four Broadway shows per month. I regularly hit all the top museums. The Guggenheim is my fave. But nothing beats my first game of the season. I’ve been dreaming of this since the day, I paid Ticketmaster the ridiculous but mandated service charge. Well today I got there. As the four went above ground heading toward 161 Street, my heart pounded and my blood rushed with excitement. I knew I was getting to the Stadium. For those of that don’t know me. Or don’t know me well. I am a very ritualistic person. It could stem from Judaism. Or very likely stems from the rituals I participated in the Order of the Arrow when I grew up. I’m not sure if did or ever will. But that’s for another post. But I realized as I went down the stairs in the train station, I probably started my first traditions in the House that Ruth built. At each game, I eat a variety of foods. But according to tradition, I must eat them in a certain order. My eating habits depend on the inning. The required food must be finished by the bottom of the prescribed inning. My mother once said, I have more traditions than, Tevye. Today, I realized I even walk down the same flight of stairs off the platform at 161 Street. I exit through one of two turnstiles and always climb up the same flight of stairs to exit the station. Upon exiting the station, I took my usual gaze at the Stadium. Then I crossed the street to walk on hallowed grounds, the site where the real Stadium, the House that Ruth Built lived. It opened April 18, 1923. Babe Ruth inaugurated it with its first home run. Yeah, he made the stadium’s first error that day. Even the most important ballplayer in the sport’s history was human. After they tore down the world’s holiest sports venue, they promised to build a park with baseball fields on its soil. That park is now open. I watched a little bit of some little league games and walked over to the park. There were some kids on the playground. They probably weren’t even born when the Stadium stood. I hope their parents told them what was on the grounds of their park. I strolled into the new Stadium. I went to Monument Park and saluted the baseball greats, Ruth, Gehrig, the Clipper, Martin, Mantle, the Scooter and many more. As mentioned, I have required eating habits. This dates to my first game in ’77 with my dad. The Yankees won it all that year. We had hot dogs, knishes and Pepsis. To this day, I must eat that and finish it by the conclusion of the first inning. At times finding potato products had been tough. I used to bring Wise chips. But in the new Stadium you can find more potatoes than you ever wanted. Fries are prevalent. But at a ballgame, I want a knish. I knew the Glatt stands had greasy ones. I came up a different ramp than usual. Oh, how I get toward my seat makes no difference. It is not part of the tradition. You must have some freewill. My eyes zone in on some people in Stadium concession stand uniforms wearing tzitzits. You don’t have to be Vulcan to make the logical deduction that they would be manning the Glatt stands. I hiked over, got my hot dog and knish. They were super nice. They gave me a small paper cup to fill up by the water fountain adjacent from their stand for Netilat Yadayim (hand washing prior to eating bread). I bought my Stadium cup Pepsi, peanuts, washed and hiked over to my seat. I dove into my hot dog, knish and chugged my soda. As usual, I finished with about 30 minutes before the fist pitch. We all stood for the National Anthem. As it played, I looked up at the sky. My mind was filled with images of a photo of my grandfather wearing his U.S. Army Officer’s uniform. I can’t believe June 26 will be his first Yazhreit. On that fateful day, I was sitting in the Stadium at Old Timer’s Day when for some reason, I walked away from my seat during the bottom of the first. I rarely leave my seat until the end of the fifth. I saw I had a VM from mom. I played it. She frantically said, “Call me”. I did. I got the news. Today’s game began, C.C. pitched really well. Jeter, Granderson, Jones and even A-Rod made the pinstripes proud. Thanks to them, we didn’t even need to play Enter Sandman. I finished the game with all of my traditions and caught the four. I will be attending 6 more games. I hope I am 7-0. More important is my dream of our four game sweep of the NL team on Oct. 28, in the fall classic. This will happen.

ELEM: Active to Proactive

Active to Proactive

March 20, 2012


As a passenger in the first car to arrive at Lenore Ruben’s stunning Hamptons home, I was excited for what was ahead of me. We walked up to the front door and were greeted by Lenore, the founder/president of ELEM/YOUTH in Distress in Israel, who was taking care of some last minute things to wake the house up from its winter sleep.

The fireplace was lit. Our great chefs headed to the kitchen and began to make our Shabbat dinner. Candles were lit, wine was poured and were off to a tantalizing dinner of tilapia, chicken, salads and lots of other good stuff. Thanks, Guy and Shira for taking the lead and making everyone happy.

After dinner, we sat by the warmth of the fireplace. Rinat led us in a “get to know you”, Bingo game. We found out all sorts of tidbits about each other to make us closer. For example, the Lion, former Sen. Ted Kennedy, personally handled one of our activists’ visa problems. Most of us probably knew who began talking at 9 months. The night continued on. We all just sat and chatted. Eventually, we went to bed. Nothing is better than summer camp style sleeping. In other words, air mattresses were scattered about the floor.

We woke up to a breakfast that could have fed the masses at any hotel. Once again, our chefs prepared a dazzling feast that included, French toast, bagels, salads, juices and eggs.

Rinat directed us outdoors to Lenore’s spacious yard, where we conducted our warm up games. We spent some time forming pyramids. The geometry got a little tough for a moment. But we did it. We tossed a ball or two around and played catch. But we had rules on how we had to approach our games of catch.

The views we were treated to were spectacular. The swans swimming in the lake looked so peaceful. To the happiness of some, we went back inside where it was a bit warmer. We continued to play our trust building games.

Rinat challenged us to answer what our goals were for our group. We all agreed we want to raise awareness about our mission in order to provide more help for distressed Jewish and Arab Israeli youth.

Our challenges continued. One of our activists stood in the middle of our circle and had to free fall into the circle. It reminded me of my old fraternity days. But much credit goes to Rinat for making this more civil. We were not free fallin’ while blindfolded off the top row of the bleachers on SUNY New Paltz’s “Tripping Fields”.

But rest assured, we were shortly blindfolded. One of us was blindfolded. The other was not. We had to guide each other from various points and avoid the many obstacles, while trying to find candy. The games continued.

We did a few other exercises and then got into a contentious discussion about ELEM-Entry's structure and the way some things are run.

Let’s face it, no family gathering is free of contention. But if we didn’t care about and believe in each other we probably wouldn’t have gotten as angry. We were just trying to come to some agreements. Hey, it is human nature to have these squabbles. Every volunteer group has them.

We had a brief break. Following it, we were treated to an amazing selection of hot dogs, beef kabobs, Asian chicken and much more. We were well fed before we took the stage.

We got to try our hand at drawing in a take of everyone’s favorite drawing game, Pictionary. We got to dress up and act out a few scenes. Once the opening acts concluded, “dress up” Karaoke night began.

After a debate about song selection, my team picked Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy”. Our song and dance routine scored the maximum twenty points. It was well way too sexy for paper or my shirt…

Bedtime arrived. I was lucky enough to wake up super early and watch the sun rise over the lake.

Thanks, Lenore for once again lending us your space. More important, thanks for being there with us and sharing your inputs and observations.

The inspiring retreat ended. But what didn’t end, was the goal of strengthening ELEM-Entry to make many children’s lives better. We have our work cut out for us. But with the teamwork we’ve been building there’s no doubt we can hit that