Executive Editor's Blog

Married, with children, frequently hungry.

2010-06-29T18:21:00.002-04:00

From 1987 to 1997 a popular sitcom called “Married with Children” aired on the Fox network. You can still find the re-runs on cable. The central character is the always-suffering Al Bundy. He has a wife and two children and works in a shoe store. His family basically ignores him and spends what little money he makes. His wife doesn’t work and only gets off the couch to shop for clothes.

For me, one of the funniest reoccurring threads was that there was never any food in the house when Al returned home from work. Prior to his returning, his wife and children would sneak out to some fast food joint or chain restaurant and return with nothing for Al. Watching it as bachelor and then as a young father, it seemed inconceivable that a wife and children would not care about whether their husband/dad ate.

“I had two mini-burgers saved for you, but Danny was still hungry after his steak and ate them,” Mary tells me as I return home from work on a recent night. My family had eaten at one of those chain restaurants I hate, but tonight the thought of two mini-burgers made my mouth water. Oh well. At least Danny and Mary and Michael were well fed. Instead of mini-burgers, I opened a can of soup.

“You guys are going to Burger King?,” I ask as Mary and my sons as they head out the door on another night. “Just get me the usual.”
The usual is nothing. It has become a running joke in my house.

“Ok Danny the joke is over. You can get my food out of the car now,” I tell my 15-year-old on yet another night when he and his mother have dined out.
“Dad I’m not kidding. We didn’t bring you anything from the diner,” he responds. I love diner food.

Let me know what you think.

Watching Grass Grow

2010-06-27T21:06:00.001-04:00

Standing over a wheelbarrow full of topsoil and grass seed Sunday afternoon, my eyes began stinging from the sweat pouring off my forehead. Reaching into my pocket for a handkerchief to wipe the sweat away, I find it is empty. My shirt is too dirty to wipe my eyes, so I pull off my work gloves and do the best I can to clear my eyes of the salty, stinging sweat.

Walking into the kitchen 15 minutes later, Mary looks at me and laughs.
“What happened?” she asks. “You have something all over your face.”
A few seconds later the reflection in the bathroom mirror looks like a jungle warrior. Streaks of dark black topsoil mixed with sweat cover my cheeks, chin and under and above my eyes. Wiping the sweat with my dirty work gloves was not such a good idea. An hour earlier my neighbor had warned me to stop working so hard on such a hot day. Two hours before that Mary had told me to skip the yard work and stay in the pool.

But my newly-planted grass needed me. About a month ago I planted it to repair the damage made by a backhoe that had dug a three-foot wide trench from my house to the street after the pipe that carries water to my house gave out. I was not happy with how the grass is coming in and decided to spend about three hours in the blazing heat patching the bare spots.

Growing grass is very important to me, just ask my neighbors. One night about two weeks ago I was going through my usual around-dusk ritual of inspecting the new grass. It takes me about 10 or 15 minutes to walk and inspect the entire length of the area that was dug up.
“I hope the neighbors don’t see me looking at my grass,” I think to myself.
A few nights later, I was at a banquet celebrating the 90th birthday of two Wallingford sports legends. I was surprised and happy to see my neighbor Holly. I moved across the crowded banquet hall to say hello.
“Hi Ralph,” Holly said. “I saw you looking at your grass the other night.”

Let me know what you think.

My take on a Forum section thread

2010-06-24T18:21:00.001-04:00

There is an interesting thread in our MyRecordJournal Forum section on a topic that a lot of us can relate to. According to one of our regular forum posters, a man had the police called on him for offering to pay for a young girl’s ice cream at the Wallingford Dairy Queen. Apparently someone misinterpreted his actions and thought he was up to no good.

Whether this happened exactly as described or not, we all know that in 2010 you have to be careful about ran-dom acts of kindness being misinterpreted, especially when these acts of kindness involve an older male and a younger female. Since I’m a few years away from 50 and was raised to always be especially kind to children and women whether I know them or not, I’m acutely aware that I cannot always do the things my father taught me to do.

Occasionally one of the 24-hour news channels is on at the gym where I work out and watching reminds me why some people think any older male talking to a younger female might be a pervert or worse. Nancy Grace is especially guilty of overplaying what are tragic, but isolated incidents of strangers doing harm to children or women.

Everyone needs to keep in mind that the chances of any of us being harmed by a total stranger are about on par with the chances of being struck by lightning. If it happens to your loved one, that is no consolation. But we need to keep the threat of strangers in perspective.

The chances of a child or woman being harmed by someone they know, is far greater. In fact, most women and children who are murdered are killed by someone very close to them, usually a husband or close male relative.

The thread mentions that it was a man and a woman who confronted the man and called 9-1-1. The woman has a much greater chance of being harmed by the man she was with than the children have of being harmed by the stranger who apparently felt bad that one child couldn’t pay for her ice cream.

Check out the forum thread and let me know what you think.

Do as we say, not as we do.

2010-06-21T17:03:00.000-04:00

A story on underage drinking in last week’s newspaper included this quote from Cheshire Youth and Social Services Director Michelle Piccerillo: “The people who are drinking include successful athletes. That’s discouraging.”
Piccerillo was referring to an incident where police cited 35 teens for underage drinking at a house party several hours after the Cheshire High lacrosse team won the state championship. Several la-crosse players were among those ticketed.

You can be discouraged, but no one should be surprised. Raising two children reinforced the con-nection between sports and alcohol. My sons, now 15 and 17, became aware of the existence of beer thanks to the NFL. I’m sure others have noticed the same.
Each time a team wins a championship, they guzzle and poor champagne all over each other in front of millions of viewers, including children. Any child attending a game notices that the longest lines are the beer lines. Once they hit 13 or 14, they also become aware that adults are willing to pay a premium price for the privilege of sipping a beer as they watch their favorite team play.

The connections between sports and alcohol are too endless for me to mention. It is therefore inevitable that some high school athletes are going to drink after games, especially big wins. It’s commendable that Cheshire has spent so much money and time trying to curb the problem. But Cheshire doesn’t exist in a bubble. Until the professional leagues that make billions on beer advertising are willing to change their attitude, high school athletes will continue to drink. In fact, I’d suggest that the link between alcohol and sports probably makes high school athletes more prone to drinking. I haven’t been to many classical music concerts, but the ones I’ve attended didn’t sell beer. I’ve worked at newspaper for almost 25 year and can’t remember a story about members of the high school band being cited for drinking after winning a big statewide competition.

Let me know what you think

Staring into the Future?

2010-06-15T16:46:00.001-04:00

A young couple is crossing at State and East Main streets in Meriden. He is pushing one of those double-strollers with two children. She is walking a few steps behind, starting at her phone. Yours truly is stopped at the light. At the same time a man is walking in the crosswalk at East Main and Per-kins Square, directly behind the one the couple is in. He is staring at his phone so intently he almost runs into the railroad gate at the downtown crossing.

Less than a hour later, I am in a meeting with a half dozen people. Two are starting at their phones intermittently, checking for updates via e-mail. It is not the first time people have drifted during one of my meetings. At least these two are doing other work and not falling asleep or staring out the window as people often did in the days before they had phones to stare at.

The night before, like millions of others, my attention was focused on the championship series be-tween the Celtics and Lakers. NBA star Dwyane Wade was in the front row with his son, who ap-peared to be around 5, give or take a year or two. The third and fourth quarters were an old-style NBA war. Players were pushing and shoving and hitting the deck. The home crowd was loudly supporting the Celtics. When the camera showed Wade and his son, the child was staring at some kind of hand-held device I assume was a game player.
No surprise. My sons, 15 and 17, spend more time looking at their phones than listening to their fa-ther. Before they were old enough for phones, they spent a lot of time looking at hand-held video-game devices.

This makes me wonder about the future of human interaction. Sales of what are referred to as un-tethered devices such as iPads are expected to approach cell phone levels in the next decade. When most people have the equivalent of a desktop computer in their palms, will they ever pay attention to someone doing something as antiquated as talking?

All this makes me feel a little envious and scared because when I cross the road I prefer to look around at the people and buildings that make up the downtown landscape. In meetings, I prefer to listen what is being said. At sports events, I like to watch the action. I’d even prefer my moody, demanding, unforgiving teen-age sons to staring at some screen that I need my reading glasses to make out.

So how do I and others like me survive in a world that values texting over talking?

Cell Phone Blues Part 2

2010-05-21T16:55:00.000-04:00

In a blog last week, I complained about the never-ending cycle of new cell phones that allegedly don’t cost me anything.
My other complaint about getting a new phone every 12 months is that as soon as I get used to a phone it is replaced by one that is supposedly better. My wife and sons would get a new phone every six months if they could so they are always happy with a new phone. Once again, I feel left out.

Am I the only one that has this problem?
If not, how do others deal with it?
Is it true, as my family tells me, I have to get a new phone when the service contract is due for renewal?

Peace Frog

2010-05-17T18:56:00.006-04:00

My neighbor’s 9-year-old granddaughter runs into my yard and proudly displays the melted chocolate on her fingers.
“Look, we have chocolate,” she tells me.
“No kidding,” I respond, warning her that she had better not get chocolate on her good clothes. Her 7-year-old sister is right behind. She also shows me the chocolate on her hands.
“Are the boys home?,” the older one asks.
When they were younger, I would take the two girls on a tour of my house, spending the most time in Michael and Danny’s rooms.
“Look they didn’t make their beds today,” I’d tell the two tiny girls as they looked in awe at all the trophies, medals, baseballs, posters, instruments and other stuff in the bedrooms.
Since then “Are the boys home?” is really code for “Can we go inside and look at all their new stuff?”
I explain that Danny is at a baseball game and that Michael had four wisdom teeth pulled less than 24 hours before and is trying to rest.
Ending my sentence, I notice the black “peace sign” earrings dangling from the 9-year-old’s ears.
“I like your earrings,” I tell her.
She twirls them proudly and tilts her head to one side the way girls sometimes do when they receive a compli-ment on what they are wearing. We did not have a discussion about the evolution of the peace sign over the past 50 years. When her grandmother overheard me complimenting the earrings, she remarked that she didn’t even realize the strangely-shaped earrings were a symbol for peace.

The day before, a peace sign T-shirt on a boy who couldn’t have been more than 3 or 4 caught my attention. Just before the girls with the chocolate on their hands had come over to see me, another neighborhood girl was playing tennis in the street wearing a tie-dye T-shirt.
Children wearing symbols of the 60s and having no idea what they are is nothing new. For some reason, the earrings, the T-shirt and the tie-dye made me feel a little nostalgic. Born in 1963, I was not a member of the 60s generation. As someone who came of age in the late 70s and early 80s, I did admire a lot of 60s music, fashion and philosophy.

“Alexis had the cutest peace sign earrings on,” I tell my wife later.
“All the girls wear them,” she explains.
Danny, 15, is curious about why we find a child wearing peace sign earrings so interesting. Everyone wears stuff with the peace sign.
I explain that when I was a child the peace sign was not a child’s toy. Wearing a peace sign was too radical for a young child. It symbolized all kinds of things to the silent majority, including possible “anti-American” leanings.
“Isn’t it silly that people could get others so angry by wearing a symbol for peace?” I ask my wife and son.
Mary agrees.
Danny doesn't respond.

Let me know what you think.

(Bonus points if you recognize the title of this blog and its connection to this area. It doesn't count if you have to use Google.)

Is there a free lunch?

2010-05-10T17:50:00.003-04:00

Standing at Doolittle Park watching my younger son Danny play baseball, my blood pressure rises slightly when older son Michael turns and asks his mother if she can bring him to the cell phone store. The spike is short as my wife tells him she doesn’t have time.

My problem with the downtown AT&T store is not the employees. They are nice and helpful. My problem is it always costs money, despite what Mary and my sons tell me.
“The phone was free because we got the upgrade,” is a typical response to my question about how much the new phones cost.
I took one economics course in college. In the first class, the professor went to the board and wrote: “There is no free lunch.”
“If you remember nothing else from this class, remember this,” he urged.

Driving home from work about three or four hours after the baseball game, I decide to call home and tell them I’m stopping at the library. Danny answers. No one else his home, he says.
“They are still at the phone store.”
About 10 minutes later, I’m driving by the AT&T store and see Michael sitting in a chair and Mary talking to an employee. It must just be a problem with Michael’s phone, I think. No worries.
I dial my cell phone and instead of getting my wife, I get a recording that tells me to call the service department for more information. I am trying not to panic, but recall that this is the message you get when they are switching over your phone and plan.
The library takes my mind off potential phone problems. Arriving home, I find Mary in the kitchen taking something out of a small box on the counter.
“There is some kind of problem with our phone...”
She cuts me off.
“Here is your new phone,” she tells me, smiling. “It didn’t cost you anything.
“I’m going to get a $50 rebate,” she adds.

To be continued.

Sorry, Wrong Number

2010-05-05T19:05:00.004-04:00

“Is this the priest?,” a woman who has just called my cell phone asks.
I explained that I was not a priest and that she had the wrong number. She was very apologetic. I told her it has happened before and not to worry.
“Have a nice night,” I said, haning up.
Over the past two or three years, about a dozen people have called my cell phone looking for “Father.” After the first few times, I guessed that some priest and I have a very similar cell phone number.
The strange thing is that I used to also get calls on my home phone from people looking for a priest with a very similar last name. At least at first I thought it was “people.” After a while, I suspected it was the same older woman who was calling. Over the years, she sounded more confused.
Just before it stopped, we actually started having conversations that went something like this:
“Hello,” I would answer.
“Father (similar to my last name)?” she would ask.
“No this isn’t the Father. You have the wrong number ma’am,” I’d reply.
“Are you sure Father isn’t there?”
“No priest lives here ma’am. Our last names just sound alike.”
A couple of other times she called asking for her brother. Again, I’d tell her she had the wrong number. Sometimes she would engage me in a short conversation about her brother or some other family member she was looking for.
By this time I’d figured out that she was older and starting to get confused and since I’m a lot younger and sometimes get confused, I couldn’t be angry.

I didn’t think much about all this until a few weeks back. Sitting at work, my cell phone rang. Noticing it was an unfamiliar number, I was prepared to take another call for the second priest whose name I don’t know.
“Hello,” I said.
“Why did you just call my cell phone?,” a woman asks in an angry, accusatory tone.
“Who is this,” I asked.
“Never minds. Who are you and why did you call my phone?,” she replied.
Fortunately, my father taught me it is cowardly to get loud on the phone with someone you don’t know. I calmly explained that I didn’t call her number and wasn’t even on my phone at the time she said she received the call.
“I know you called my number,” she insisted. “Where did you get it from?”
When she threatened to get the police involved, I ended the conversation as politely as I could.
After hanging up, I checked my outgoing call history and did not see her number.

Let me know what you think.

Should I be on YouTube?

2010-04-29T19:01:00.002-04:00

A story last week about a Cheshire teen who met his prom date via You Tube got me to thinking about whether I might become a YouTube star. The young woman, from Georgia, has become popular on YouTube by talking about fashion and makeup.
I do a daily video for MyRecordJournal on the top stories for the next day’s newspaper. I was surprised to learn we don’t offer it to YouTube. Apparently someone in the online department doesn’t think anyone would be interested. When I asked about the decision, an online employee pointed out to me that the young lady You-Tube star is 17 and since I am in my 40s (I am not!) I probably wouldn’t be a popular YouTube commodity.

Take a look at my daily video and let me know if you think it should be posted on YouTube. If not, what might I do differently to make the video more YouTube friendly?

I am open to suggestions. For example, maybe I should also talk about fashion. I don’t require makeup. But I could start using some. It doesn’t show in the video, but I do have bags under my eyes and a few wrinkles. I could sample creams for these problems and report on them instead of the news? Maybe the MyRecordJournal hierarchy would then put my video on YouTube.

Let me know what you think.

Finding the fireworks

2010-04-26T18:41:00.003-04:00

“Don’t go down there,” Mary says, referring to a driveway leading to one of the many businesses in Wallingford’s industrial park area off Route 68.
It is overcast on Saturday night, making the roads and the long driveways leading to the mostly empty parking lots and buildings seem scary to my wife. Michael 17, sitting in the back seat, senses his mom’s fear and urges me to go down the driveway.
“Mike, the fireworks are going to start soon. I don’t have time,” I reply.
After spending a couple of hours in the late afternoon working at the Record-Journal Daffodil Festival booth, I raced home to cook out and finish cutting the lawn. I finished around 8 p.m., realizing I didn’t have time to make it back to the park to watch the fireworks display.
“Maybe we can see them from where we watch the Wallingford fireworks,” I tell Mary and Michael as we head out.
Like thousands of east-siders, we watch the annual Wallingford fireworks parked in one of the many businesses near the intersection of North Main Street Extension and Route 68. But when I pull into the spot where we watch the Wallingford display it is empty and I suspect not the place to view fireworks at Hubbard Park. When I park, the tree line blocking the Meriden ridgeline confirms my suspicion.
We spend the next 20 minutes driving the industrial park area. Each time we find a parking lot that is high enough it is blocked by trees. All the lots clear of trees are too low to see Castle Craig. Finally just as the fireworks begin we find a spot along the road that is high enough and clear of trees to see most of the fireworks exploding over west peak. It wasn’t ideal, but we enjoyed the show.

In case I’m running late for the July 4th fireworks display at Hubbard Park, can anyone suggest the best place in Wallingford to view Meriden’s fireworks?

As you know the Wallingford display is in jeopardy this year. More on that issue in an upcoming blog.

No Water !

2010-04-09T18:23:00.002-04:00

Checking the basement this morning, I saw some damp spots and was sure that today’s rain would mean at least a few puddles in my basement, possibly more. Last week, I had about two inches of water. It was the first time in the 15 years I’ve been in the house that we had any water in the basement.
The good news is I just checked with my wife. There are a few damp spots, but no standing water.

Some of the boxes and other stuff stored in the unfinished basement before the flood are now spread around my house, including the porch. My plan was to start putting them back into the basement, possibly as soon as this weekend. Now I’m wondering if it is safe.

Let me know what you think?

Also, can someone explain to me the forces of nature that have come together this spring to produce basement flooding in areas that don’t normally experience it?

No time for a dime?

2010-03-22T19:12:00.001-04:00

Struggling to get through another grueling session on the elliptical machine at the YM, I look down in exhaus-tion and spot something shiny on the floor. Squinting, I realize it is a dime.

As you probably guessed, I did not interrupt my workout to pick it up. I also didn’t pick it up after my workout and didn’t point it out to the woman vacuuming near the elliptical. I was about to and then I figured I would be insulting her by suggesting she needed the dime.

Later I recalled that when I was a young child I would have stopped to pick up a penny. Has the value of money changed that much since I was young? This makes me feel old even though I’m relatively young for my age. I’m not sure I would have stopped my workout to pick up a quarter. This bothers me. Have I forgotten the value of money? Perhaps my family spends so much so quickly that I’ve become jaded. Picking up every piece of loose change from here to California wouldn’t even cover their fast food purchases for a month.

Let me know what you think. Please share with us the amount of money that would make you bend over and the last time you picked up money off the ground.

if my blog were an e-mail....

2010-03-17T19:12:00.004-04:00

readers,
if my blog were an e-mail this is how it would look
i don’t capitalize or use punctuation
i simply start a new line for each new thought
i adopted this style to deal with 100+ e-mails each day
when writing a formal memo i capitalize and use punctuation
but 95 percent of my e-mail responses are in this style
my wife hates it and feels it is unprofessional
no one else has every complained
let me know what you think
ralph t

p.s.
i always sign "ralph t"
she doesn't understand that either
i worked with a ralph h for about 10 years and adopted the moniker
ralph h left about five years ago, but i continue
i've asked my wife to sign "mary t" so i know who she is

Don't call me "sir"!

2010-03-15T19:27:00.003-04:00

Add “dude” to the list of things I don’t like to be called, right behind “sir” and “mister.”
The first time I noticed, I was in the locker room at the YMCA. Two men in their 20s came in and were planning on swimming. They couldn’t complete a sentence without using "dude" or "bro." They were nice, asking me about the YM and the pool. They were in the locker room again after my workout and we resumed talking. On my way out, one of them held up what looked like a nice ripe banana. “Do you want a banana dude,”? he asked. “They are good for you after you work out.”
I declined and walked out. For some reason, I didn’t like him calling me “dude.” A few days later a co-worker in his 20s called me “dude” after I asked him about an upcoming assignment. Again, it bothered me.
I’ve always hated sir and mister because they are too formal for me. As far as I’m concerned, everyone from 2 to 92 can call me "Ralph." In fact, I would prefer it.
I used to like when people called me “dude” because it is something young people say to each other. I hope this mood passes.

Let me know what you think.

I miss the movie theater

2010-02-22T18:53:00.001-05:00

As I navigated through the movie theater parking lot on a recent night, a group of middle school-age kids darted in front of my SUV. Two girls were chasing two boys and when they got to the theater door the boys began playfully blocking the door. When an older couple needed to enter, they stepped aside. When the girls tried to sneak in behind the couple, the boys quickly blocked them.

I was not dropping my children off at the Wallingford movie theater, just cutting through to Route 5. My wife tells me it among the longest of my infamous shortcuts and I use it only when she is not in the car because she freaks out. (When I first arrived in town almost 25 years ago there was no movie theater and the plaza was pretty empty so it made a convenient cut over from North Main Street Extension to Route 5. But I digress. If you would like me to write a separate blog on my not-so short shortcuts, let me know.)

Recently, a colleague was asking me about whether she should let her sixth grader go to the movies on his own. I told her I thought it was OK and offered some tips. My last words were: “The real trouble starts when they don’t want to go to the movies anymore.”

When they were in middle school, it seemed my sons were at the movie theater nearly every weekend, sometimes both nights. My sons, about to be 15 and 17, still occasionally go. The last time my oldest went he drove. When they were in middle school, it was cool to skip dances and go to the movies. Apparently dances are more closely supervised than the movie theater. But about halfway through their freshman year both stopped going regularly because going to the movies was no longer cool. Now they prefer to hang out at friend’s houses in the cold weather and almost anywhere during the nice weather, including our pool.

I can’t believe I used to complain about having to pick them up at the movies. Hanging out is much more stressful on parents.

Let me know what you think.

Becoming an X-File ?

2010-02-10T19:08:00.002-05:00

I never watched the X-Files when it originally aired. In 2008, my wife and I saw the most recent X-Files movie at the theater and I left hooked. For the next three months or so I watched nothing but X-Files, making it through seven of the nine seasons. Why did I stop? Burnout. Watching one show exclusively for three months is not the same as watching it over nine years.

About three weeks ago I was re-arranging my DVDs and looked at my X-Files collection. Something clicked and I started watching it again. I’m up to season three. This is not the first time I’ve been compulsive about a particular show or channel. About 10 years ago I spent an entire winter watching the Golf Channel. I like golf. But part of the appeal was watching them play in places like Dubai, Australia and Hawaii, which are sunny and warm while we suffer through winter. For much of 2002 and 2003 I watched nothing but C-Span. When the NFL network first aired, I watched it non-stop for about three months. Last year I borrowed nearly every DVD from the public library that that interested me and didn’t bother with cable (except Yankee games) for the better part of six months. Prior to my X-Files fixation, I was on a college basketball binge.

On a related note, I also sometimes watch movies repeatedly. Some I’ve watched 25 times or more include Citizen Cane, Casablanca, My Cousin Vinny, The Queen (I’ve probably watched it 100 times), A Few Good Men (also about 100 times), Fog of War, Las Vegas Vacation, The DaVinci Code and The Burbs.

My family thinks this is all very strange, especially my temporary obsession with C-Span and The Queen.

Let me know what you think.

I swear I'm sorry

2010-02-08T18:02:00.002-05:00

I’ve noticed that most of the time I let a profanity slip out, which isn’t very often, I almost always immediately apologize. I do this even if the slip occurs in my office with only one other person present. I’ve noticed people doing the same with me. The latest example was at a gathering of basketball parents at a local bar Friday night. The parent I was talking to used the f word in a very casual and quiet way. It wasn’t vulgar or loud and I didn’t think much of it until she apologized. To be honest, the apology made me feel more awkward than the profanity. Does she think I would think less of her for such a minor slip up? Do the people I apologize to feel the same way?

Later in the night a few other parents were talking about a town in Connecticut that has started fining students if they use profanity. That started a conversation about how people in general, including teen-agers, seem to swear less than in previous generations. We all agreed that when we started our careers swearing in the work place was prevalent and today it is a rarity.

A few minutes later a patron with fewer inhibitions dropped a very loud f-bomb because she was unhappy they had turned the music down. She didn't apologize or seem the least bit embarassed. In fact, a few minutes later she did the same thing. I kind of admired her ability to let loose. After all, were were all in a bar around midnight on Friday. Shouldn't people feel relaxed enough to use a little profanity?

Just today I screwed up my daily video about halfway through and let out a very angry swear in front of a longtime male colleague who has heard the word more than a few times. It was an impulse-swear, done out of frustration because until that point the video was flowing well. I apologized to him three times before he left the office. Not sure why.

Let me know what you think

Pathetic Blog

2010-01-29T18:17:00.003-05:00

Watchers of my daily video may have noticed my hair is much shorter. Regular readers of the blog may recall getting a haircut is one of my least favorite things to do. My barber, Gerardo, is the best. I just like my hair long. It was some fellow 40-something friends that prompted me to return to Gerardo’s chair.

“Ralph, you know you have really full hair for someone your age,” one friend said as he labored on the ellip-tical machine at the YMCA. “And almost no gray.”
A couple of days later another 40-something guy at the Y said almost the same thing. Suspecting it was some kind of prank orchestrated by my wife, who is jealous that I have almost no gray, my eyes scanned the room to see if she was watching. She wasn’t even there.
On Saturday Mary and I attended a benefit dance. Shortly before 11 p.m. the lights were turned down and we were standing side by side near the back of the hall watching the dance floor. Suddenly someone’s fingers were running through my hair. Since Mary was slightly in front of me, I deduced they were not her fingers. Spinning around, I was face to face with another middle-aged man who complimented me on my hair and asked if I could spare some for his bald head. I didn’t need a breathalyzer to know he had had a few drinks.
“Sure,” I said. “When I get it cut, I’ll save some for you.”

Gerardo is closed on Sunday. My schedule was full on Monday. Tuesday was a day off. First thing on the list was a trip to Gerardo’s.

My wife will probably view this blog as a pathetic attempt to highlight my lack of gray. But it’s really about karma. Middle aged men aren’t the target audience I had in mind. Two compliments and one feel in less than a week seemed to be an omen.
It also made me think that at 46 perhaps I’m too old wear my hair long.

Let me know what you think.
(It is Ok to agree with my wife. In fact, it would probably help me at home if people would treat me a little harsher on this blog.)

A nice suprise

2010-01-27T17:36:00.000-05:00

Based on conversations and other anecdotal evidence, my assumption is most Americans feel we spend too much on “foreign aid.” It seems the recession has only deepened the feeling that we need to take care of “our own” before we send more money overseas. This is why the crowd at a recent high school basketball game caught my attention.

The game was being played at Amity Regional High School a couple of weeks ago. Most high schools don’t charge those who show up early for the freshman and JV games. About halfway through the JV game the fans in the stands noticed a table was being set up outside the main entrance to collect admission. Many started discussing whether they would voluntarily go over to the table and pay the admission price. Most decided that the Amity school system was not hurting for funding and could get by without their contribution. It also spurred a lot of discussions about school budgets in general. Many felt they could not afford to pay one dime more for education.
About the same time, about a half dozen students started canvassing the growing crowd for contributions. I can’t recall what school club they were collecting for, but no one in my vicinity contributed. As I looked over to other sections, I saw almost no one was responding.

As the varsity game was about to start the crowd grew to almost 200. A young woman came to our section and announced the Key Club was collecting to help earthquake victims in Haiti. Everyone stood in unison, reaching for their wallets and purses. No one complained at all. The half dozen students left the gym, each with a coffee can stuffed with bills.

Let me know what you think.

Worried my kids won't leave

2010-01-15T13:58:00.002-05:00

One of the best ways to cope with teens is to talk to people who have raised them and survived. You learn that everything your teen has done, someone else’s teen has done. Also, some good strategies for dealing with things like curfews, driving, homework and parties. It won’t solve all your problems, but you won’t feel so alone.

The only downside is that you discover that a lot of 20-somethings and even 30-somethings are still living at home. Some expect mom and dad to foot ball the bills, cook all the meals and do all the chores. This scares me because although I love my soon to be 15 and 17-year-old sons and will miss them dearly, part of me wants them out of the house yesterday.

On a recent day, after a particularly trying night with one of my sons, I received an e-mail on a new cartoon called “Dustin.”

“Dustin is a 23 year old college graduate and he’s returning home to live with his parents and 15 year old sister until he finds his way in life. Dustin believes he is destined to lead the charmed life of a pro golfer or famous comedian but in the meantime he takes on numerous odd jobs through a temp agency.”

Apparently it is catching on with a lot of newspapers. I can understand why. I e-mailed the syndicate rep that based on my recent conversations I thought it was a great idea. He responded : “We hear that 80% of college grads move back home.”

If you have any tips on how I might start preparing my children to leave before they are 25, let me know. I’m also seriously considering adding Dustin to our comic pages.

Let me know what you think.

Eye problems?

2010-01-14T13:43:00.002-05:00

A much younger colleague passes out printed material at a recent meeting. When my copy arrives, I pull my glasses out but still have trouble reading it because the type is smaller than a box score. I look around and am disappointed that one person a few years older has not put on glasses. A minute later he is holding the paper a long way from his face. Ten minutes later he is complaining about the size of the type, which leads me to suspect he needs glasses but doesn’t have them or want to put them on. A colleague a few years younger, needs no glasses. Only the co-worker a little older than me puts on glasses.

Until a couple of years ago, I could read almost anything and see at a distance with my contact lenses. When reading became a problem, the eye doctor prescribed a pair of glasses for smaller type. About six months after I started wearing them, I needed them for all my reading and had to have a pair at work, home and in my car. About six months after that, I was doing work in the yard and noticed I was having a lot of trouble putting the screwdriver in the screw slot. So I bought myself a pair of cheap, durable cheater glasses to wear when I did close up work around the house. This summer I needed a pair of glasses to operate the lawn mower. Shortly after that, I noticed I was having trouble reading the radio dial and the odometer in my car without glasses. Soon after that, I needed reading glasses to operate my cell phone

When I went in for my eye exam in November, the doctor suggested bifocal contacts. When I put them in it was like a miracle. All of sudden I could see close up and far away without having to put glasses on and off. The only downside was looking in the mirror. I realized why people weren’t buying it when I said I was 39 and younger than my wife. The bifocal contacts are still working pretty good, but I need to put my glasses on for smaller type.

When will it end?

Let me know what you think.

noPod

2010-01-08T14:22:00.002-05:00

“Hey Ralph. How come you don’t wear your iPod anymore?,” a friend asks as I reach the halfway point of my time on the elliptical machine at the Wallingford YMCA.
He gets on the elliptical next to mine as I tell him I keep forgetting to bring my iPod to the gym.
“I think I’m telling myself that I don’t like listening to it when I work out.”
“I never wear one,” replied Greg, who is about my age.
At any given moment, more than half the people working out at the Y are using an iPod or other audio device. With the under 30 set, it is almost 100 percent. Even the young guys lifting massive amounts of free weights have ear buds in. That scares me because I was taught that when you are lifting free weights you need to be alert at all times.

For a while, it seemed that the loud music from my iPod was motivating me to work out harder and longer. It also seemed to help me focus because one of the issues when you work out without a trainer or a partner is concentrating on working as hard as you can and not letting your mind wander.
What bothered me about having ear buds in all the time was that I noticed people, especially those close to my age, were not coming over to say hello and chat for a minute. Those of us not raised in a world where people simultaneously watch TV, do their homework and send text messages assume that if you have ear buds in you can’t or don’t want to say hello.
About six months back, in an effort to be more efficient, I started listening to audio books while working out. The free technology was kind of clunky (it was hard to pause, fast forward or reverse) so I gave up pretty quickly although better technology exists.
Even without an iPod, there is always music playing on the Y sound system and eight TV’s hanging from the ceiling, mostly tuned to the news and sporting events. No sound, of course.

Greg and I chat about work, family and sports and after a brief pause he points up at the breaking news flash that North Carolina has lost a basketball game to a team most people never heard of. Just before he had gotten on the elliptical next to mine I was feeling tired and thinking about cutting my workout short. When he got off, I looked down and saw I had just a few minutes to go.
“I don’t think I would have made it without him,” I thought.

Let me know what you think.

Life of the party

2010-01-05T13:46:00.003-05:00

“I can’t believe you went outside to look at Steve’s wood piles,” my wife says as we hurry to her van after a recent holiday party where temperatures outside were in the teens. The party inside was warmed by good friends, holiday spirit and a wood stove on the main level of the house. I had been talking to my friend Steve about his eood stove for more than a year but this was the first time I had seen it. It was functional and decorative. I asked him about his wood supply. He said he had cut some of the wood and purchased the rest.
“Where do you have it stacked?,” I asked.
He went over the layout.
“Can I take a look?”
So on this bitterly cold December night he showed me his three wood piles and explained his system for moving wood into the house.

My father purchased a wood stove sometime in the early 70s, spurred on by the seemingly high oil prices that resulted from the first Arab oil boycotts. My brother and I spent the next 15 years or so helping Dad cut, haul, split and stack wood. At times we had up to four or five wood piles in our backyard. It was all part of Dad’s system for letting wood dry properly before it was burned. The trick was to also have a healthy smaller pile close enough to the house so that you could easily transfer wood inside during cold winter weather. Since it was our job to get wood in the house, the woodpile system was important.

Despite my lingering curiosity about stoves and wood piles, I do not have a wood stove. The gas stove that my in-laws gave us a couple of years ago keeps the house just as warm and requires less work. My house has a fireplace, but I’ve never burned any wood in it. The condominium I owned before I bought the house, also had a fireplace. When I moved in there was a shabby woodpile on the deck. The first thing I did was get rid of it.

“Did you have fun looking at the wood piles?,” a friend at the party asked with a smirk. My wife told me later that the partygoers had spied us outside and had a good laugh.
“I did,” I told her. “You know my Dad had a wood stove. My brother and I spent most of our childhood cutting wood. I remember the time.....”

Let me know what you think.

Tired of Hall&Oates

2010-01-04T12:57:00.004-05:00

Sitting in a waiting room recently, I hear a young receptionist singing along to “Rich Girl” by Hall & Oates:
You're a rich girl, / and you've gone too far / 'Cause you know it / don't matter anyway / You can rely / on the old man's money
I hated the song when it came out in 1977 and still don’t like it or anything else done by a duo that had lots of hits but never critical acclaim.
The young woman singing wasn’t born in 1977 (she may have not been born in 1987) and I wonder if she knows anything about Hall & Oates. I also wonder how much longer I’m going to have to listen to Hall & Oates in waiting rooms.

When the show Happy Days came out in 1974, my parents loved it, mainly because of the music it featured. A 50’s revival swept over the land and a lot of radio stations had a 50’s format through the 1980s. In the early 90's it seemed some of the music I grew up on was beginning to be classified as oldies or classic rock. Tired of listening to bands like Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, I switched to alternative, grunge and rap. A lot of my friends called me a sell out, but my children thought it was cool that their dad listened to the same music that they did. In an unexpected twist, by the time they reached high school, my sons were listening to a lot of Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath.

If my calculations are correct, music released in 1977 should fade away somewhere around 2017. Soon after, artists like Nirvana, Dr. Dre and Pearl Jam will be considered oldies. I wonder if I’ll mind when the receptionists sings along to Smells Like Teen Spirit?

Christmas Tree Part 2

2009-12-24T15:41:00.002-05:00

Back to the Christmas tree issue. Sorry for the delay.
A week before Christmas I overheard my wife telling son Danny that maybe it would be best to just bring the artificial tree up from the basement. I was excited but knew that if I seemed over-eager to ruin everyone’s Christmas with the $250-plus tree we only used once, I would be sent out to get a real treet. I said nothing.

On Saturday morning I heard her say to Danny: “I’m going to have you guys bring the tree up from the basement and we can decorate it this afternoon.” Again I held back, fearing it might be some kind of trap to get met to try to spoil her Christmas.
Shortly after lunch, I heard her tell Danny: “Whenever you guys bring the tree up we can get started on decorating.”
“I’ll get it right now,” I told her calmly, although I was practically shaking on the inside.

Danny and I carried it up. She immediately pointed out that there was something wrong with the bottom branches and requested a hammer. My heart sank. Knowing that if even one branch was a fraction off she might opt for a real tree, I retrieved the hammer.
“Can I help?,” I asked.
“No, I’ll handle it,” she said.
The next few seconds seemed to linger forever. She banged something near the bottom of the tree real hard and then pulled roughly at the bottom branches. She seemed frustrated, a bad sign. But a few second later she stepped back, looked at the tree and handed me the hammer.
“The top lights aren’t on,” she pointed out.
A quick adjustment and they came on.
“I won’t be able to put my angel up,” she remarked, noting there was no space between the highest branch and the ceiling.
Based on past experiences, I said nothing in response.
She said nothing further and started to decorate.

Have a great Christmas. I hope you get everything you want. I already received my gift.

Should I join?:

2009-12-17T18:56:00.003-05:00

A couple of months ago I noticed my wife was spending more time at the computer and assumed she was checking her e-mail more often. A few weeks later we were talking about a gathering of basketball parents. She seemed to know more than I did and that prompted me to ask how.
“I saw it on Facebook,” she said.
She had joined Facebook, making me the only holdout in the family.
I felt a little left out and for a few days was going to join but never did.
Here are some of the reasons. Maybe those of you who have joined can shed some light on whether my concerns are valid.

I don’t want to be contacted all at once by everyone I have known but don’t keep in touch with.

I especially don’t want to be contacted by everyone I went to high school with. Don’t get me wrong. I go to all my reunions and have fond memories of Guilford High. Every five years is enough for me and it keeps it exciting.

I don’t want people I work with to have access to my page and I don’t want them to feel like they should grant me access. We spend enough time together already.

I don’t think I have any cool recent photos of myself to post.

I don’t want to be involved in any silly contest to rack up friends. I could probably have thousands of friends within days.

My sons have already told me they will not be my Facebook friend. I haven’t asked my wife, but I suspect she feels the same way.

I’m selective when it comes to social events and I’m afraid Facebook will lead to all kinds of invitations that I will have to turn down.

I don't get drunk and do a lot of crazy things at parties anymore. Back when I did, we didn't take photos. Even at my craziest, I was fully clothed.

Let me know what you think

What should I do?

2009-12-15T14:08:00.000-05:00

Cleaning the basement earlier this month, I noticed the artificial tree in the corner. The only time it moves is when I vacuum around it. We bought it about five years ago after the pine needles from a live tree aggravated my wife so much she decided she preferred a fake one. I was thrilled. Mom and Dad always had live trees, sometimes more than one, but my mother’s mother always had an artificial one and even then I could imagine a Christmas without having to trudge into the woods or to some tree farm to cut and haul out a Christmas tree on a cold December day. My grandmother was very practical, I thought.

Even the $250 plus price tag on the artificial tree didn’t spoil my mood. No more driving to lots and arguing with Mary about her endless search for the perfectly-shaped tree. A half hour later when we got home and put the tree in the front room she always found an imperfection and complained that it was my fault for rushing her and another argument ensued. It cost me more than I expected, but I enjoyed my first Christmas without a real tree and thought my grandmother would be proud.

Shortly after the following Thanksgiving I asked my wife if she wanted the tree brought up from the basement so she could decorate it nice and early. “That’s the advantage of having an artificial one. We can get it up nice and early,” I exclaimed.
To my surprise, she didn’t want it carried up.
“I want a real tree,” she said. “Everyone in your family has a real one. Your parents had two last Christmas.”
So we had had another argument. I was surprised to learn that I had pressured her into buying an artificial tree she never wanted and now I was intent on ruining another Christmas by forcing her to display that terrible fake tree that everyone in my family would make fun of. A couple of weeks later we went to a lot and picked out a live tree. The artificial one stayed in the basement.

“I saw a place in Cheshire that was selling trees for 19 dollars,” Mary told me about three weeks ago. “I just hope I can find it again.”
I didn’t respond.
A week later, Mary and I were riding at night with my oldest son Michael. The two of them were talking about staying within our Christmas budget.
“Why don’t we use the artificial tree this year and save the money for an extra Christmas present?,” I asked. They didn’t respond.

It is 10 days before Christmas and we have no tree up. I’m wondering if I should set a date later this week to get a live tree or just bring the artificial one up from the basement and surprise everyone.

Let me know what you think.

I am a Terrible Father

2009-12-10T19:28:00.002-05:00

“Mr. Tomaselli, just between you and I, your son’s actual birthday is March 17,” said the woman from the pediatrician’s office. I put down the phone and slapped myself on the forehead before continuing.

I knew when she asked for Michael and Danny’s birthdays I was going to get one wrong. I said Danny’s was born March 15. Some of you have probably already figured out that there is no way I should ever get Danny’s big day wrong because he was born on St. Patrick’s Day. HE IS NAMED DANNY BECAUSE OF HIS BIRTHDAY. My mother’s mother, whose own mother was named McKeirnan, loved the song Danny Boy and played it each St. Pat’s Day. If Danny was born on March 15 he would have been named Joseph.

Remembering their birth dates and years has become harder and harder. I’m not sure if it has something to do with being a little older than 39 or that as they grow older we don’t make such a big deal about their birthdays. From birth to 5, birthdays were major productions, requiring lots of advance planning and plenty of food and drink for all the relatives and friends on both sides of the family.

From 5 to 10, the parties were held at bowling alleys, laser tag places, all-purpose sports facilities, karate clubs and other venues. It didn’t require much work on our part but we did have to shell out for about a dozen kids to attend and eat.

Starting at 11, the concern became the cost of their birthday requests and convincing them that I could not allow them and their friends to stay up all night during their birthday sleepovers. The sleepovers ended by the time they were 14.

I remember Michael’s birthday last year because he turned 16 and the next day he got his learner’s permit. I don’t remember what we did for Danny’s 14th birthday. I have promised Danny that on the day he turns 21 I will visit the bars with him. I suspect someone named Danny born on St. Patrick’s Day is going to be offered a lot of free drinks by the Irish. Maybe they will also take care of the guy who named him.

Love/Hate relationship

2009-12-09T15:54:00.001-05:00

By Friday night, Michael had been telling us for three days about the snow expected to start Saturday and continue into Sunday. Michael, 16, loves snow, not because he likes to ski or snowboard or build snowmen. The only time he goes out is to shovel our walk or work with a neighbor that plows driveways and even then he does so reluctantly.

Michael loves snow because it cancels school and there is always the remote possibility that even a Saturday/Sunday storm could dump enough snow to at least delay the opening of school on Monday. Danny, 14, pretty much feels the same way. One difference is that Danny doesn’t like to use the expected bad weather as an excuse to put off his homework. On Tuesday night at around 8 p.m. he is sitting at the kitchen table doing his Wednesday homework.
“Good boy,” I tell him. “But I don’t think you are going to have school tomorrow.”
“I’m going to have to do it anyway,” he shrugs, continuing with this work.

Their dad hates snow because it makes it harder to get to where I have to go. Unlike school, the newspaper never gets canceled or delayed so for 24 years I’ve driven through all kinds of bad weather to get back and forth to the Record-Journal. Not only do I hate snow, I like to pretend it doesn’t exist. When colleagues start talking about an expected storm or complain about the ride in and the expected ride home, I get annoyed and shut them out. It’s my admittedly selfish way of dealing with something I don’t like but can’t change.

Let me know what you think.

Updates

2009-12-03T18:31:00.002-05:00

Updates on issues that have come in past blogs.

Michael got his license this past Saturday. He returned from DMV around 11 a.m. Before I could even congratulate him he asked for my keys so he could drive to his friend Tyler’s house to tell him he had his license. At around 7 p.m. that same night, he drove to the house of another friend who lives about a mile away. My wife and I spent some time that night with friends at a downtown bar/restaurant. I left early, partly to avoid the ear-splitting volume when the band went on and partly to go home to worry and wait for Michael’s safe return. He arrived around 10:30 p.m. I survived.
The next day he took the car to the Wallingford YMCA.
For some reason, I’m really worried about his plan to drive to basketball practice between 6 and 6:30 a.m. this coming Saturday. Lyman Hall is less than a mile from our house, but I worry that he won’t be awake enough to drive himself and also about slick morning roads this time of year.
When I mentioned it to him, he replied: “I think I can handle it.”

Thanks to my wife, I do have a steady supply of walnuts. Although, I need to put them on the shopping list each week or she will not buy them. I know this because one week I forgot to write them down and when I noticed they weren’t in any of the shopping bags, I asked why. She replied: “You didn’t put them on the list.”
While walnuts have to put on the list each week, I notice those really delicious but expensive Friendlies sun-daes are replenished even though they never appear on the list.
Earlier this week, I told a colleague she was buy-ing a cheaper brand of walnuts. I checked when I got home last night. Mary says they are actually a better, more expensive brand of “natural” walnuts. Is there any other kind?

I have resumed bringing my shirts to the dry cleaner each week. I didn’t mind the ironing. I did mind that after all that effort my shirts looked lousy. White Way does a great job and the employees are very nice.

The Benefits of Exercise?

2009-11-24T19:14:00.001-05:00

When you play sports and run have you ever experienced chest pains or dizziness?,” the doctor asks my 14 year old son. He is getting his annual physical and the question is routine. Danny answers: No.
The area where my shoulder and arm meet has been hurting all morning and I haven’t thought much of it until the doctor asks the question and then for a brief second I get real nervous. The doctor has moved to swine flu and that calms me down. They physical continues. Danny gets a clean bill of health.

It was worse during my older son’s recent trip to the doctor a few weeks back. His blood pressure is a little high for someone his age so the doctor spent a lot time making sure he wasn’t experiencing any chest pains or fatigue. As he asked my son some follow up questions and discussed how blood moves through the body and heart, the pain in the same area of my chest seemed to get worse. After about 30 seconds, I started to sweat a little. Anxiety set in. Luckily, the doctor started talking about something else and my panic and pain passed.

A couple weeks after my older son’s doctor visit I was sitting at my desk shortly after I arrived at work and was pretty sore in the same area. A few minutes later in a meeting, the soreness returned and for a moment so did the panic. Luckily, the meeting was pretty interesting and my mind drifted away from the pain and back to the subject at hand. I was worried somebody had noticed.

Finishing up my work out on the elliptical machine at the YMCA, I looked at the results. I had gone for 60 minutes, covered 4 miles and burned more than 600 calories. My average heart rate was 146. My peak rate was a little over 170. I smiled. A couple months earlier I had noticed that I had become a little lax about my exercise routine. I was putting in about an hour four or five times a week, but I wasn’t pushing myself. On the elliptical machine I was never going more than three miles and rarely getting my heart rate above 140. My weight lifting routine had shortened. I wasn’t lifting enough weight and was skipping or eliminating some of the more difficult exercises, especially for the shoulders, arm and chest.

The only downside to this new routine is I’m working all my muscles a lot harder and feeling sore. Of course the pain in my legs, stomach or back doesn’t ever trigger panic. But as I describe above, sometimes any soreness or twinge in my chest makes me worry something more dangerous is happening to my 46 year old body. That more exercise sometimes makes me worry or even panic about my immortality seems ironic. For the first time in life, chest pain can cause extreme anxiety. Five years ago a hard workout and some soreness in the chest was just that.

Let me know what you think.

Do I need to lighten up on the lights?

2009-11-19T18:48:00.002-05:00

Driving by a house near my street earlier this week, it pleased me to see lights on in nearly every room of the good-size Colonial.
“At least I’m not alone,” I thought.
A few second later my happiness waned. I know the dad and he probably is doing his best to make sure every light in the house is not on at once.

Pulling on to my own street about a week earlier around 8 or 9 p.m., I noticed that there were lights on on all three floors of my split-level house. As always, we had the most lights on in the neighborhood by far. The unusual thing was there was no one home at the time.

My own father was and is a stickler about turning off lights and keeping the thermostat at 62. When I was first married and tried to enforce the same rule, my wife told that my father and I were both nuts and pushed the thermostat up to 70.
My dad’s mom, my grandmother, worried about her utility bills even when she was older and her sons paid the bill. They implored her to turn up the heat during the winter, but when I visited I always found her wrapped in a blanket with the thermostat set around 60 in the dead of winter. Like many children of the Depression, she worried about money even when she didn’t have to.

My wife’s theory on lights is that it costs you more to turn them on and off so our children have gotten used to turning a light on and leaving them on when they leave the room. They have apparently never noticed or don’t care that their father runs around behind them turning off the lights they leave on.

When they have to pay the bills themselves do you think they will follow my example or continue to waste money and harm the planet?

I’d also appreciate any advice on how to convince my family to change their ways.

Let me know what you think.

Master Motivator?

2009-11-16T18:45:00.002-05:00

Carrying two white plastic garbage bags (one filled with plastic bottles, the other with aluminum cans) and a paper bag filled with bottles I walk into the redemption area of my supermarket and start loading plastic in a machine. The scratchy, grinding sound of plastic being pulverized reminds me of nails against a chalkboard so I squirm slightly as I send 40 or so bottles to meet their maker. Otherwise, this is the one weekly chore I enjoy most.
I do it willingly, with a smile and without being reminded.
Why?

After loading all the bottles and cans into the machine, I drive to the other end of the parking lot, enter the store and proceed to the customer service desk. Handing Marissa my redemption tickets, I wait with a smile. Marissa is probably the only supermarket employee I remember by name and the reason is connected to the question above. She adds up the tickets on a calculator, opens the register and hands me nearly $5. I promptly place the money in my wallet and drive to get a coffee, using a little less than half. The rest stays in my wallet for some treat later in the week.

As I raise two teen-agers and run a newsroom, finding ways to motivate my sons, the staff and myself has grown into a serious study. Reading and listening to the latest books helps. Trial and error has also yielded results as has updating the lessons my father taught me.
My euphoria when Marissa hands me the money is proof that instant reward is a pretty good motivator. I feel a little guilty about being so happy because I often preach to my sons and others that the key to success is to approach each day asking “What can I contribute?” not “What can I take?” According to that approach, cutting the lawn, vacuuming the pool and raking leaves should be as rewarding as returning bottles and cans.

Let me know what you think.

Am I nuts or what?

2009-11-09T18:55:00.001-05:00

“They are too expensive. Eat something else,” Mary tells me as she starts putting away about a dozen bags from the two different stores she shops at each week. She used to shop at three, but changed her routine a month ago. I have to admit, I don’t know why.
Based on her remark about cost, you probably suspect I asked for an expensive steak or perhaps lobster tails. Not quite. Just some shelled Walnuts.

My dependence on Walnuts began about three months ago when she brought home a big bag without me asking for them. Since then, they have become a great way for me to get some quick protein. As soon as I was hooked , however, the issue of cost came up.
“Walnuts cost a lot,” she told me after I remarked how much I liked them.
“Too many nuts aren’t good for you,” she added.
She went on to explain that Walnuts would cost more come November because Walnuts are in high demand around the holidays.
I didn’t say anything, but did notice that on the shelf where the Walnuts once sat was a big package of red licorice (her favorite), about a dozen packs of gum, Devil Dogs and Chips Ahoy cookies. A little to the right was a bowl filled with three different kinds of candy bars. In the pantry where she keeps various crunchy snacks were three bags of potato chips and two bags of tortilla chips. In the fridge I found assorted ice cream, including some individual size sundaes made by Friendly’s that I suspect are pretty expensive.

My wife is a great shopper, but sometimes her priorities seem a little off.
Let me know what you think?

Half a brain ?

2009-11-03T19:25:00.001-05:00

“Here you go honey,” the young woman in the drive-thru window says as she hands me my order.
After depriving myself of anything tasty for a week, my stomach steered me to Wendy’s and an order of French Fries on a recent Friday night.
But my good mood was interrupted by this smiling young face handing me fries my nose could detect long before they passed out the window and into my vehicle.
Her mistake ? Calling me “honey.”

I’m not sure what disturbs me more. The fact that she called me “honey” or that it bothers me when a woman half my age calls me "honey." As recently as a few years ago, it wouldn’t have affected me. Suddenly “honey” from someone so much younger seems too informal, fake and almost patronizing. Half my brain tells me to lighten up and roll with it. The other half feels disrespected. The half that is telling me to lighten up is right but I just can’t accept it.

Let me know what you think.

The Great Communicator (2009)

2009-10-29T19:26:00.001-04:00

Knowing he was sick and might be sleeping, I turned the door knob to Danny’s room slowly and opened the door a crack to make sure he was OK. He was curled up with his back toward me. I could see his eyes slightly open.
“Dan, are you OK?” I asked.
He doesn’t have the flu but has been battling a sore throat, headache and fatigue on and off for about two weeks. This is the second time he’s missed school.
“My throat is still really sore,” he said, lifting the covers enough to reveal that his fingers were busy texting.
Someone my age or older might think it strange for a sick child to be texting in bed. I didn’t think anything of it. Danny texts constantly, even while he plays pick-up basketball.

He got a new phone recently because his other one broke. My theory is it just wore out from Danny’s thumbs pressing against it. At 14, he is the youngest member of the family. He is also the one who communicates constantly in what is called “real time.” Like many kids his age, Danny doesn’t have an e-mail address. Texting and instant messaging are his preferred forms of communication because they are instant.

I don’t send or receive many texts. Typing with one or two fingers feels too awkward. I’m also not very proficient in the various spelling shortcuts that allow Danny and his friends to use maybe 20 characters whereas I would need 40 or more.
“Dad you need to send shorter texts,” Danny told me about a year ago. He showed me some setting on my cell phone that helps you write shorter texts by anticipating what you are trying to write and inserting the characters it thinks you need.
“Danny, could you shut this thing off for me ?” I asked a day later.

My gut feeling is that soon I will be texting and instant messaging and making use of some other form of real time communication that I can’t even imagine. Danny will probably never have an email-address. When he is my age what kind of new form of communication will his children be using?

Let me know what you think.

Dog Days Ahead ?

2009-10-28T18:37:00.002-04:00

On one of the few sunny Saturdays we’ve had recently, I looked out on the side deck and noticed a cat napping on the cushion of an outdoor love seat. It caught my attention because it was large and gray and because I don’t have a cat. The deck is close to the pool and part of a side yard that is fenced off. I couldn’t believe this semi-fat cat jumped the fence or slid underneath it.

“Did you see the cat?,” my wife said excitedly as I spoke to her on the phone a couple of hours later. I had left and she had returned and spotted the cat napping. I could tell by the girlish tone that she liked having a cat on the deck. She had cats for many years in college and before we had children. I think she would like another one. She also has been talking about getting a dog. I never had a dog growing up, but she did.

When she first started talking about getting a dog it bothered me because I don’t want one and I took as a sign that she was already anticipating how empty our nest will be in just a few years. My mom raised four children and never had a dog and then when her youngest moved out she immediately got one. I suspected that after caring for children for close to thirty years she needed something to care for.

I really don’t want a dog today or a few years from now unless someone is home during the day to look after it. I don’t like the idea of leaving a dog alone all day while we are at work. One time when Mary brought up getting a dog I suggested we adopt a child when our sons leave home because children play basketball and baseball and that would give me something to do. She didn’t like the idea.

By the way, I didn’t bother the cat that Saturday or on a couple of other afternoons when it returned. It belongs to one of the neighbors and is very good at catching mice and other critters in my yard. Two weeks ago I was cutting the lawn and it proudly pranced through my backyard holding one of those pesky moles in its mouth. A few minutes later I found a half eaten squirrel. I figure the least I can offer this prolific hunter is a comfortable place to curl up.

Let me know what you think.

Heaven or Hell Part 2

2009-10-26T18:43:00.001-04:00

A follow-up on my previous blog. My son continues to be a little tense about my efforts to help him keep up with his school work. He said something to me this weekend that made me think. I was asking him about his progress on some assignments he needed to make up and he again became frustrated.
“Mike, I’m just trying to help,” I explained.
“Dad, do you realize we haven’t talked about anything else this week but my school work,” he responded.
I thought for a minute and realized he had a point.

Let me know what you think.

Heaven or Hell?

2009-10-23T16:00:00.003-04:00

On Tuesday, I attended parent-teacher conferences at Lyman Hall High School. Since we now have two sons at Lyman Hall, Mary and I had to split up. I visited Michael’s teachers, Mary met with Danny’s. The teachers were very helpful, providing me with grades up to that point, work that needed to be made up and important upcoming assignments. The conferences lasted about two hours. I spent about another hour talking to Michael and going over my notes. I felt good about the initial talk with my 16-year-old junior and my organized list of items I needed to follow up with him on.

The good feeling ended less than 24 hours later when I called Michael from work to see how he had made out on one of his makeup assignments. About 10 seconds into the conversation, I sensed resistance to my involvement. I calmly told him I intended to help even if he didn’t like it.
“Well then I’m going to make your life hell,” he responded.
Taken as one line it seems very disrespectful. In fairness, I should point out that Michael is really a good kid at home and an even better one in school. In his 11 years, I’ve never had a teacher complain. My own parents could not make the same statement. On Tuesday, one of his teachers told me that I should give myself a pat on the back because, in her opinion, Michael was a great kid and a credit to our parenting.
But after the “I’m going to make your life hell” remark I didn’t feel like giving myself a pat. I also didn’t start screaming. After dealing with teen-agers for three years, I’m used to these moments.

About a month ago we were talking about his driving school classes when he told me: “I hope you and mom feel crappy about wasting your money on driving school.” Apparently, the classes were not living up to his expectations. I think he was really upset because it has cut into his social life. When he first would say these kinds of things, it did make me feel “crappy.” I felt I was making progress in dealing with teens because despite his hope, I did not feel bad at all.

Last night, as I was in the midst of saying good night and telling him to have a good day at school, he launched into a 30-second diatribe on how something his mom and I are doing is ruining his weekend social life. He added that the other kids involved don’t care because they are all losers and don’t have a social life. A cheery way to end the day, I thought as I calmly listened and didn’t say anything until he was done
“Mike. Have a nice day at Lyman Hall.”

Let me know what you think.

Nervous Father

2009-10-19T18:55:00.001-04:00

When my 16-year-old son went for his learner’s permit in April, I wasn’t too worried. It would be awhile before he’d be driving on his own. I convinced myself that I’d rather have him driving than a passenger in a vehicle being driven by one of his friends.

The other night my wife was explaining to me that Michael’s seemingly endless stint in driving school was coming to an end and that one of the instructors had told her he expected he would take the test the first week of November.
“I’m getting really nervous about this,” I told her. “I was thinking about it a lot today and I just can’t imagine letting him drive off on his own.”
I went on to explain that I was feeling a little guilty about my apprehension because a friend from the gym has had his second child going through the same process and seems to take it all in stride. A few days after his daughter got her license I ran into him and asked if she had driven on her own.
“Oh yeah,” he replied. “She’s gone solo every day since she passed the test."
He told me he was happy because now that both his children were licensed drivers his days as a taxi service were officially over.
I shook my head, amazed at how calm he was and also feeling a little guilty because suddenly I don’t mind driving Michael around and want to suggest to him that I provide taxi service a little longer.

I keep having the same vision over and over. Michael is driving down our short street by himself and then pulls on Pond Hill Road. I lose sight of him a few seconds later. The next few hours are pure agony as we wait for him to return. I’m assuming the second time he drives away will be a little easier. I wonder if my parents still worry about me when I drive?

Let me know what you think.

Losing It?

2009-10-16T19:37:00.001-04:00

I’ve been having trouble with keys lately. About a month ago I lost an important set and spent the next two weeks searching my house, car, office and even garbage. At one point, the lost set was the last thing I thought about before I slept and the first thing I thought about when I awoke. Then one day a co-worker came down to the newsroom after our receptionist had left and asked me where the lost and found is located. I didn’t know where the lost and found was, I told him. He had lost his car keys and was hoping someone turned them in. Before we could finish our conversation, a co-worker from his department came down with his keys. He had dropped them in the trash pail.

The next day I asked our receptionist where the lost and found is located and before I could finish my sentence she pulled my lost set of keys out of her desk. I was thrilled to get them back, but kind of worried that it had never occurred to me to check our lost and found.

Last night I got in my vehicle to go home, pulled my key chain out to start the car and realized the car key was not on the chain because I had gotten my car serviced earlier in the day. I had forgotten to put the key back on my chain and was hoping I had left it somewhere in my desk. I searched the desk, but no luck. I also searched the vehicle, my briefcase and every inch between my vehicle and my office. I checked lost and found and asked the cleaning woman if she had found a key. After about an hour, I called my wife who wondered why I waited so long. She and my son, a new driver, were more than happy to bring me the spare key.

This morning I noticed my key chain, including the spare my wife had brought me the night before, sitting on the kitchen counter. I thought it was strange because I usually leave them with my wallet and phone in another room downstairs. Mary and the kids leave before I get up. They must have used my keys and left them on the counter.

When I arrived at work I was happy to learn someone had found my missing car key in the parking lot and turned it in. I called my wife to tell her the good news.
“Why were my keys on the kitchen counter this morning,?” I asked.
“Danny found them in the front door. You never took them out and they were in there all night,” she replied.

Let me know what you think.

Stop Jaywalking!

2009-10-14T15:36:00.002-04:00

I attended a conference in Baltimore about 10 years ago. After checking in at my hotel (located in the harbor area) I decided to take a walk around. Approaching the first crosswalk, I glanced up the street for approaching traffic. Seeing it was clear, I started across. After a few steps I heard a loud whistle and a plea to “Stop Sir.” I turned toward the whistle and realized it was being sounded by a police officer about 100 feet away who wanted me stop because the crosswalk sign, which I hadn’t bothered to check, was telling me not to cross. I returned to the sidewalk and noticed about 20 others waiting for the crosswalk signal to tell them it was OK to cross the street even though there was no approaching traffic. As I continued my walk around the area, I noticed almost everyone was crossing only in designated areas and when the signal said it was OK.

That night I had dinner with a friend who had moved from Meriden to Baltimore several years before. He explained that Baltimore was “civilized” and that only people in the Northeast crossed streets where and when they pleased.

I returned with a new perspective. I noticed how many times pedestrians suddenly crossed in front of my car. I realized just how rude and potentially dangerous it is and vowed to follow crossing signals when I walked.

Last week we ran a story on jaywalking. Over the past 10 years, jaywalking has developed into one of my top pet peeves.
I spend much of my time driving the streets of Meriden and Wallingford and wanted to mention a few of the most dangerous areas.

Wallingford
- Anywhere near the intersection of North Main, South Main and Center streets. The closest calls I’ve had have been at night involving people parking off the eastbound lane of Center Street and crossing to the very popular Michael’s Trattoria restaurant.
- North Main, near the library, is also a hot spot for jaywalking.
- The section of South Colony Road (Route 5) closest to Center Street has also become more of a problem. It starts at the Food Bag and continues up to Center Street. The area around CVS is also a problem.
- A lot of people complain to me about jaywalking by Choate students, I haven’t noticed it. I find that when I’m driving through the campus, the students are pretty faithful about staying in the crosswalks and looking before crossing.
Meriden
- Pedestrians frequently cross near the intersection of State and East Main streets without even looking up for oncoming vehicles. The crosswalk signal there is virtually ignored. Regardless of whether I have a green light or not, I slow at the intersection because you never know when someone will cross.

Let me know what you think.

My Brother Is Getting Old

2009-10-07T17:46:00.003-04:00

I was scanning the obits yesterday and noticed a familiar name among the survivors of a woman who died in the town I grew up in – Guilford. I haven’t actually resided in Guilford since I was 18 and only visit about once a month, sometimes less, so often I can’t remember if I went to school with someone or my brother did or if I even knew them at all.
I called my brother, who lives in Guilford.
“Oh my God is he dead?” he asked, also recalling the name. "He's our age."
“No, his mother died,” I said. “I know the name but can’t remember the face. Did I got to school with him or did you?”
My brother, class of 1983, was pretty certain he was in my class - 1981.
“I think he lived around Guilford Lakes. He had blond hair,” he added.
I didn’t remember where he lived but did recall the hair color. I could see the head of blond hair and the outline of his body, but not his face.
Although we are only in our 40s, it seems each year my brother and I have more and more conversations about obituaries, mostly ones on the parents of people we grew up with. We also seem to have more difficulty recalling details about the names we see listed in the death column.
The most frustrating and embarrassing conversations occur when we can’t remember if someone we both knew from 30 or 40 years ago is alive or dead.
“I thought he was dead,” I’ll remark.
“So did I,” my brother chimes in.
“We are too young to be having these kinds of conversations,” I reassure him.

Let me know what you think.

I'm So Predictable !

2009-10-06T19:30:00.000-04:00

Elizabeth is right. I opted to drive and passed on the exercise and fresh air. The worst part is the people I was meeting with would have understood if I was 10 minutes late. They had plenty of other agenda items to keep them busy. In previous blogs I’ve asked why many of us feel and act so rushed much of the time. What could be more important than getting a little fresh air and exercise? What is so important that we have to rush all the time?
I think part of the problem is many of us feel obligated to make everything we do SEEM important.

Let me know what you think

Did I Take My Walk?

2009-10-05T16:44:00.002-04:00

The so-called small decisions in our day sometimes reveal a lot.
At about 1:57 p.m. on Monday I was so involved in one meeting at the Record-Journal that I had forgotten about my 2 p.m. meeting at a building that is a five or ten minute walk from the R-J.
Earlier in the day I had decided the weather was so nice that I would leave myself time to walk to the meeting. Of course everything I did between 10:30 and 1:57 p.m. ran over so I was left with a choice. Did I call the person the meeting was with and tell him I would be late so I could still get my walk in? Or did I race to the parking lot, jump in my car and make it to the meeting on time?

Let me know what you think?
I’ll give you the answer and an analysis on Tuesday afternoon.

Water Bottle Windfall

2009-10-01T17:21:00.002-04:00

It seems a lot of people are unhappy about this new 5 cent deposit on water bottles. Not me.
I’ve been trying for several years now to wean my wife and sons off those individual water bottles in favor of the half gallon water jugs. I think the half gallon is better for the environment and more economical. I do sometimes reach for an individual bottle myself, but mostly pour my water out of the half gallon in the fridge. The rest of the family almost exclusively uses the smaller bottles. As a result, most weeks we put out two recycling containers for the weekly trash pickup.

One of the chores the family has assigned me is returning the bottles and cans that carry a deposit. Every two weeks or so I head to the grocery store and earn about two or three dollars. At first, I resented having to do it. But about nine months ago the family decided I should cut back on my Dunkin Donut purchases. I’m down to one or two cups a week and use the deposit money to buy an extra cup.
If the family continues consuming water bottles at its current rate, I estimate I’ll make about two or three dollars a week, possibly more. I’m wondering if I should let them continue to consume water bottles at their current pace and reap the windfall or try to do the right thing and get them to curb their water bottle habit.

Let me know what you think.

Overworked dryer?

2009-09-23T18:51:00.002-04:00

One night last week I was on the ground level of our split level house and heard the usual whirr of the dryer on the basement floor below. It seems the dryer runs constantly. My wife does at least one load a day, more loads most days. Keep in mind this is just for her and our two sons. I do my own laundry, a habit my mother got me into as a teen-ager.
I’ve suggested we hang a clothesline and during the warmer weather dry some of our clothes outdoors. She says it will look trashy and insects will get on the clothes. I don’t know. My mother and grandmother both used clotheslines in the warmer weather.
Call it a premonition, but as I listened to the dryer that day last week I thought: “I bet this dryer doesn’t last much longer.”

Sometime on Saturday, I heard Mary go down to the basement and push the start button on the dryer. There was a low hum, but no whirr. I knew before she told me.
“The dryer isn’t working,” she called out from the basement. Within minutes she was on the computer researching a new dryer. I could have suggested we not rush into anything and consider a repair or at least ask her very handy father to take a look. But I know how important keeping up with the laundry is to her and I didn’t want to interfere. I did point out that this will be our third dryer in 14 years and that dryers in most households probably have a life expectancy of more than four or five years.

On Sunday morning, while the boys and I were still in bed I heard the sound of her van pulling out. She usually doesn’t go out before noon on Sunday, but I knew she was on a mission. She returned around 11:30. As I saw the van pull in I figured there was a 50-50 chance that she has a new dryer in the back for me to unload. Instead, she told me they didn’t have the model she wanted in stock and would have to go to another store location.

By around 4:30 she had purchased the dryer she wanted and decided to have it delivered and the old one taken away. She was disappointed because she would have to wait until Thursday. She had the day off from work on Monday and spent part of it at the Laundromat doing the dirty clothes that had accumulated since Saturday. I gave her a few things to hold me over until Sunday or Monday. The new dryer will arrive on Thursday, but I know she will have it tied up for the first couple of days catching up on all laundry that accumulated between Tuesday and Thursday.

Let me know what you think.

Black Friday

2009-09-21T16:15:00.002-04:00

Mary, Danny and I are standing in Target on a recent Friday night. Mary and Danny are looking at belts.
“He needs a belt?” I had asked a moment before. Belts normally last me about three or four years.
“Yes,” she replies curtly. “His belt broke so he doesn’t have one.
As they look at belts, I’m holding a pair of blue sweat pants. I bought a black pair the week before and really liked the way they looked and fit so I wanted a second pair. I wanted a second pair of black sweats but Mary intervened.
“Here is a nice blue pair,” she said, grabbing my size off the rack. “You shouldn’t wear back all the time.”
Rather than fight, I took the pair of blue sweats and then went and picked another pair of black pajama bottoms. She frowned and moved on to helping Danny with a belt.
While they were looking at belts, I kept looking at the blue sweat pants with the gray stripe and tried to imagine what T-shirts would match. I don’t know whether I have trouble matching shirts and pants or whether it is just an irrational fear of being able to match. This is why I prefer black. Most of my T-shirts are gray or have gray in them and gray matches with black. Also, all my shoes and sneakers are black so buying black dress pants and black sweats guarantees that at least my shoes and pants match. Most of my ties also have black in them so each day I am virtually guaranteed that my shoes, pants and ties are a match. All my dress socks are black and the socks I wear when I’m not at work are all gray, so again black is a safe color.
Blue presents problems because there are so many different shades. Mary has noted before that I sometimes wear Navy Blue and Powder Blue or Royal Blue, which apparently is not a match. I sometimes think dark blue is black and that also causes problems, according to her. Gray is a pretty good match with blue, I’ve heard, but I lack confidence in the combination.
I’m also embarrassed to admit that I like black because I feel that it is the most stain-proof color although Mary tells me otherwise. All I know is that when I spill coffee on black pants it is much better than spilling coffee on say a blue or tan pair of pants.
Mary and Danny were trying to decide between two belts.
“You know I think I’m going to put the blue back and get a pair of black ones,” I sheepishly told my wife, hoping she was to busy with the belt purchase to notice or care.
“Do whatever you want,” she said, not looking up from the belt finalists.

What do you think I did? What should I have done?

Let me know what you think.

The Fifth beetle?

2009-09-17T13:45:00.002-04:00

I was walking through the newsroom yesterday and noticed a very old photo of John Lennon and Paul McCartney on Entertainment Weekly magazine. At the Meriden mall later in the day, the Beatles seemed to be everywhere. Displays of the Fab Four were prominent at the book store, game store and music store. When I left the mall and returned to my vehicle, I immediately started my latest audio book, “John” by Lennon’s first wife Cynthia. It is a very detailed account of their life from the late 1950s to the late 1960s.

The Beatles version of the video game Rock Band seems to have spurred yet another renaissance for a group that arrived in America less than three months after I was born. Because I was just a baby, I don’t remember the initial Beatlemania. I did, however, become aware of the Beatles at a very young age, around 3, thanks to an uncle who called me “beetle.” I wondered why he was calling me that because they only beetles I knew were bugs and Beetle Bailey, a comic strip my father liked. At some point, I clearly remember asking why my uncle was referring to me as a bug. My grandmother, my uncle’s mother, got one of my recent pictures and then when into my uncle’s room and got a record album. On the cover, were four young men who also didn’t like haircuts. My bangs were down to my eyebrows and my hair covered my ears and collar. My grandmother held my photo next to the album cover and explained my uncle didn’t think I resembled a bug. I reminded him of his favorite band. Later, my mother would say that I hated getting my haircut so much she let it grow. A few years earlier, it wouldn’t have worked. But thanks to the Beatles some kids didn’t have to get haircuts as often.

My mom loved Elvis. She also liked the Beach Boys and the Everly Brothers. Dad liked Johnny Cash. Growing up, I don’t remember much music by the Beatles on our turntable. When I got old enough to make my own music choices, I liked The Doors, Led Zepplin, the Stones and Jimi Hendrix a lot more than the Beatles. I did think John Lennon’s solo work was cool. I thought Paul McCartney was very uncool.

About 10 years ago, my oldest son asked me why my uncle thought I was a bug. I explained it was a reference to an old, but famous rock band. He had no idea who the Beatles were until he was about 13and he downloaded a greatest hits collection on onto his i-Pod.

I started combing my hair back when I was about 12. But as I write this blog, I can easily push my bangs over my eyebrows. My hair covers my ears and is down below my collar. I wrote “haircut” in my datebook two weeks ago and never went. I put it down for Friday and then erased and replaced it with some other task.

Let me know what you think.

Skunk news

2009-09-14T19:09:00.002-04:00

I’ve been smelling the unpleasant aroma of skunks a little more often this September. I haven’t actually seen any and it hasn’t been the strong smell of a nearby spraying. It’s more of a steady smell, even during the day. I was talking to my neighbors Ashley and Conner about it. They are around 6 and 3 and also noticed the smell. Their father thinks that because we are smelling skunks during the day there must be a nest nearby. I told Ashley and Conner if I found the nest I would pay them each a quarter to bag the skunks and carry them away. They want a dollar. I agreed.

I’m in the southeastern section of Wallingford. Just wondering if anyone else has noticed more skunk activity this year. If you have a nest that you want to get rid of, I know some kids that are willing.

Let me know what you think.

Kids don't fight as much anymore

2009-09-11T19:21:00.002-04:00

As we were driving away from baseball practice the other night my 14-year-old was telling me about two of his teammates who don’t get along. He was afraid they were going to get into a fistfight and that bothered him.
“I don’t know why anyone would want to fight,” Danny said. “I hope I never get into a fight.”
My sons are 16 and 14 and as far as I know they have never had a real fistfight with each other or anyone else. I’ve noticed this lack of fighting before and it reminds me of how much things have changed since I was a kid. My brother and I (just 13 months apart) fought often until we were about 14 and 15. He threw punch at me and hit the wall, breaking his hand and forcing him to miss most of the basketball season. He was an excellent player and loved the game and for the first time I felt really bad about one of our fights. After that, we never fought again. In fact, I don’t think we’ve even had a cross word.
We both fought frequently with other kids in the neighborhood. Our father supported us in most of these bat-tles, teaching us to never back down from a bully or we would be constantly bullied in life. He also made it clear we were not allowed to fight with smaller and younger children unless we were relentlessly provoked. He warned us that the only good fighters were people who fought a lot and that meant sustaining a lot of bloody noses.
We had punching and speed bag in our basement. My brother would pound them both regularly. He was a year younger than me, but could beat up most of my friends and even some kids older than me. I couldn’t beat up a lot of older kids, but had a reputation for not backing down even if it meant getting my nose bloodied.
My brother and I were pretty typical for our neighborhood. A kid got into a fight almost every week it seemed.
I don’t think all our fighting hurt us or accomplished much. Although Dad was right about the importance of standing up to bullies.
It just seems funny that my son can’t imagine himself getting into a fight and by his age I must have been in-volved in dozens.

Let me know what you think?

More shirt news

2009-09-09T18:46:00.002-04:00

I’m wearing my son’s old T-shirts. Actually they are not the old, just slightly worn. His mom tells me he wore them a little and then for some reason decided they weren’t cool enough. If you saw Michael, 16, and I standing next to each other you’d find it hard to believe I could be wearing his discarded shirts. He and I are both about 5 feet 8 inches, but that is where the similarities end. Michael has broad shoulders, a thin waist and can’t weigh more than 130 pounds. I look at lot younger than my 39 years, but don’t have great shoulders and weigh considerably more than 130 pounds. His preference for loose fitting T-shirts is my gain and another hit against the economy. I thought I was going to have to buy new T-shirts to wear on weekends and after work. Now I have a closet full.

But it still seems strange wearing his hand me down clothes. Shouldn’t he be wearing my old clothes while I get new ones?
Let me know what you think?

More on cutting the lawn

2009-08-24T19:01:00.002-04:00

Prior to this summer, Steve Angiletti and his son cut my lawn for at least three or four summers. I loved it. They were reliable, reasonable and did a better job in half an hour than I could do in half a day. But as the recession set in at the end of 2008 and everyone looked for ways to cut costs, my family decided that “we” could cut the lawn ourselves. I didn’t like the idea because I knew it was going to take me three times as long to do a worse job than the Angilettis. The thought of driving around my half acre on a fancy new tractor was the only appeal.
By the time we started shopping for mowers in February and March the plan had been scaled back a little more. We would not get a tractor, but instead a self-propelled mower that you walk behind. The family also decided that instead of just letting the grass fall on the lawn, we would get bag attachment for the back of the self propelled mower. As the bag fills, it adds an extra 10 to 20 pounds to the weight of the mower.
When I started in the spring my family thought it was great, but my neighbors were concerned. Almost all of them have tractors and they were worried that I was cutting a good-size lawn with a walking mower. The offers came pouring in. A couple offered to let me borrow their tractor. One offered to cut the lawn for me and another said he could get me a really good deal on a rebuilt tractor. The reaction of one of my neighbors when she drove by as I was mowing summed up neighborhood feeling: “Are you enjoying that?,” she called out.

At first I have to admit I was a little bitter. Especially since the original family plan that “we would cut the lawn” morphed into yours truly cutting the lawn. My wife did do it once and I appreciated it.

By now I’m used to it and “enjoy “it because it allows me to get in about an extra hour’s worth of walking twice a week.

Let me know what you think.

I did something daring.

2009-08-19T14:59:00.001-04:00

I did something really daring yesterday and want to know what others think.

Pulling out of my cul-de-sac, I realized I had left my cell phone at home in the charger.
(Isn’t it interesting how quickly I noticed I didn’t have my phone. By comparison, it’s taken me hours to notice I’ve forgotten my wallet. The other day, I was supposed to call my wife in the morning and didn’t remember until she called me at 2 p.m. My wife asked me last spring to put a second coat of stain on the deck and I didn’t remember it until she mentioned it two weeks ago. But this is fodder for another blog).

Back to the cell phone. I’ve forgotten it in the house before and driven miles to retrieve it, but this time I hesitated and thought: “Is this thing that important?”
Instead of turning around, I continued driving. For the first mile I had an urge to return home, after that it was easy.
By the time I got home that evening, I had forgotten I had forgotten my cell phone. I chatted with my wife, did a few chores, changed and got back in my car to head out to the YMCA. I started the car and noticed the empty cell phone holder. This time I decided not to chance it. What if Mary wants me to stop and get a jar of pickles on the way home? (This was her last cell phone request. I hated having to go all the way to the grocery store for some stupid sandwich-size dill pickles that my sons need for their burgers. Another possible blog.)
Anyhow, I ran and got the cell phone out of the charger and went on my way, feeling a little more secure.

Did I do the right thing by leaving my cell phone at home?
Should I have left it again in the evening?
Let me know what you think.

Also please indicate if you are interested in hearing more about other things I forget and/or recent pickle requests.

If you are stressed, read this blog

2009-08-14T16:43:00.004-04:00

Sitting in the Wal-Mart parking lot last night with my son, I noticed a woman pushing a carriage returning to her older compact car. When she got within five feet she started talking loudly and waving her arms. Inside the car sat a teen-age boy and a dog. The teen quickly moved out of the driver’s side to help as she continued talking louder, getting more animated. I couldn’t make out every word, but suspect she was at least partly upset about finances because I heard her say “I don’t have the money” twice and “I don’t know what I am going to do.” She pushed the teen away when he tried to help, threw the bags in the back seat and continued ranting. She slammed the door, got in the driver’s side and sped off.
My son called her a freak. Although I didn't agree with how she handled the situation, I felt sorry for her.

If you read this blog regularly, you may remember I listen to a lot of audio books on self-improvement. The current one (I’ll supply the title and author if anyone is interested) emphasizes finding success within and not looking for it in your bank account, job title or other material things. It also makes the point that in difficult times you have to recharge your batteries regularly. Because of the economy, a lot of people are spending more time working and worrying. This is admirable and may seem necessary, but it’s not healthy.

Here is a small piece of advice from the book I’m listening to now. If you dread getting out of bed most days, think of the last time you were really excited to start the day. The time you just couldn’t wait to get up and get at it. Think of what you did that particular day and then plan a similar day. This is not going to permanently solve difficult financial or personal problems. But it will bring you some relief. From that relief, may spring a different approach to each day. Solutions don’t come through constant worrying. They come from inner peace.

Let me know what you think.

Everybody In the Pool!

2009-08-10T18:30:00.002-04:00

My wife called a little after 4:30 p.m. to tell me that Danny had more friends than she could count splashing around our in-ground pool.
“There has to be about seven boys and two girls. I wanted to call. I knew you’d be happy.”
“You made my day,” I told her.
I had the pool installed at the end of the 2007 swim season, so last year was really our first year. The weather was hot and there were a steady stream of kids using the pool from Memorial Day to Labor Day.
This year the weather was cool and rainy. The pool was empty all of May and much of June and July. Of course, the pool still needs daily skimming and other primping along with weekly vacuuming and chemical check. There’s also a fair amount of lawn and other work.
I learned this summer that the only thing worse than doing all the pool chores myself was doing all the pool chores and not having anyone actually using the pool. It got me down. I also thought about the payments I was making on a pool that wasn’t getting much use.
Monday was a big day. Before Danny’s friends’ arrived, Michael and a couple of his friends had been swimming.
I’m actually excited to go home tonight and do my chores. It will probably require some extra skimming and I’ll need to set the filter on “super chlorinate.” It’s the special setting required after you have a bunch of people in the pool. Last year I used it several times a week, this year only a couple of times all season. As I walk around the pool in the warm night air, I can imagine all those teen-agers laughing, splashing around, drinking all my soda and not leaving me any hamburgers or hot dogs. I’m sure I’ll find a stray potato chip or two. That’s OK. I’m glad they are enjoying it.

Let me know what you think.

Did I Do the Right Thing?

2009-07-31T16:21:00.002-04:00

I apologize for neglecting my blog. I was on vacation earlier this month and spent most of this week catching up on other things here at work. I’ll restart with one of my favorite subjects: “Did I do the right thing?”

I pulled into the drive thru at one of several Dunkin Donuts that I frequent on a recent night and ordered a large regular coffee. As I started toward the window, I reached down into the console for the small wallet I carry my debit card in and noticed it wasn’t there. Stopping about half way to the window, I reached into my pockets and then checked to make sure the wallet hadn’t slipped between the console and the seat or onto the floor. It took another few seconds to realize I also had no cash and way less than a dollar in change. Feeling embarrassed that I couldn’t pay for the coffee I ordered, I briefly considered pulling away but realized that would be rude to the teen-ager who had just taken my order. So I drove up, rolled down my window and sheepishly admitted that I left my debit card at home. It was kind of rolling stop because I wanted to pull away quickly. Before I could rush off he said: “No problem. Take the coffee anyway.”
I was surprised because in world of franchises and big box stores, employees and customers don’t often get to know each other. Giving away something for free is usually done by an employee who recognizes a regular customer. Even though I go to Dunkin Donuts three or four times a week, I visit different outlets at different times and can’t say I’ve gotten to know any of the staff.
I don’t like to accept things I can’t pay for, but he had a big smile on his face and it seemed he really wanted me to take the coffee so I figured I’d compromise. “I live a couple of miles from here so I’ll come back and pay.”
He replied: “You don’t need to. Just enjoy your coffee and have a nice night.”
I took the coffee, thanked him and didn’t return.

It seems like a small thing, but my gut tells me I should have returned to pay or the next time I go to that branch offer to pay.
Did I do the right thing in accepting the freebie?

Let me know what you think.

Teens Out Too Much?

2009-07-10T16:05:00.002-04:00

Since school ended, we’ve been allowing our sons, 16 and 14, to go out nearly every night. They either go to the movies, a friend’s house, supervised party, etc. Nothing out of line so far. My 14-year-old’s curfew is 10:30 or 11, p.m., my older son gets to stay out to 11:30, occasionally midnight.

I understand they are teens and it is summer, but having them out almost every night is starting to wear on me a little. Even though we make sure we know where they are going, I worry. Driving them around, especially on weeknights when my wife and I have to go to work, can be a little burdensome. I also have to admit my feelings are slightly hurt that they never want to stay home with mom and dad.

We have a pool so they do spend a lot of time around the house during the day, swimming with friends. They each have baseball or basketball games (sometimes both) most nights. After their games, they head out.

Let me know what you think.

Dumping my Dictionary?

2009-07-07T16:14:00.003-04:00

For about 20 years I’ve been telling students, budding journalists and new reporters: “I am a great speller...with a dictionary.”
It’s a phrase I started using to reassure average students that not getting an “A” in spelling didn’t disqualify them from becoming a journalist and to remind to new reporters to look up a word if they are unsure of a spelling or meaning.

As spell check became common and the internet put a virtual library on each computer, I sensed fewer and fewer folks admired my loyalty to the dictionary. Who needs to take the time to open up a book when you have a computer that can do the work for you? Despite all the technological advances, when I wrote or edited and was unsure of a spelling I looked it up in the dictionary on my desk.

Until last week. I was editing and needed to check a spelling and opted for Google over Webster’s. A few minutes later I needed to check a meaning, again I went to Google. I have to admit it was faster than opening my dictionary.

I’m feeling a little guilty about abandoning my dictionary and wondering how many people still use one.
Telling students “I’m a great speller...with Google” just doesn’t have the same ring.

Let me know what you think.

Sidewalk Decorum

2009-07-03T13:44:00.004-04:00

Heading out for a walk, I get halfway down the driveway and realize I’ve forgotten my hat. I ponder walking without one and then decide to head back in and get my favorite black baseball cap with the orange Monster (beverage) logo. It is my favorite because it is fitted and comfortable and my favorite color. One unexpected benefit is that when I wear it someone under 18 usually notices, thinks it is cool, and proceeds to tell me about some web site where I can get other Monster wear.

But I digress. Since it is close to 9 p.m., I’m not grabbing the hat to look cool because in the dark no one is going to be able to see the logo. I am putting it on because on these evening strolls I often encounter low branches and overgrown bushes and am afraid that if I don’t wear a hat some tick or other bug may leap from the branch or bush and onto my scalp.

You learn a lot about sidewalk maintenance when you walk outside, as I do during the summer. The majority of homeowners keep their walks clear of low branches, bushes and other debris. Many go above and beyond, edging the grass and sweeping them regularly so that dirt and leaves don’t accumulate. I would estimate that around 20 percent don’t bother to trim low branches or overgrown hedges. Others allow dirt and other debris to accumulate. I recently passed a walk where the owner left dirt piles on their walk. Apparently they were doing yard work and decided the walk was the best place to pile the dirt.

I suspect that some of the people that don’t maintain their walks are resentful for having to spend time on something that they have little use for and mainly benefits school children and other pedestrians passing by. But in a society where obesity is rampant we should be doing everything we can to encourage walking. I can attest that clear sidewalks make regular exercise more pleasant.

I want to thank all the homeowners in the southeast section of Wallingford that keep their walks clear and encourage the town planning department to keep requiring builders to put in sidewalks. For those who haven’t checked their walks in a while, take a look and consider cutting any overgrown bushes and low-hanging branches.
If you have an older neighbor and notice some trimming that needs to be done on their property, offer to help.

Let me know what you think.

A fast food story

2009-07-02T13:20:00.004-04:00

“Are you sure you want to order two number nines Mike?,” I ask my 16 year old as I drive up to place an order at the new Taco Bell/KFC in North Haven.
“Yeah, that is what I always get,” he replies.
I’m not a big fan of fast food for health and cost reasons but offered to bring him Wednesday night because I sensed he was feeling kind of down about his play in a baseball game earlier that evening. During the ride back from Guilford he didn’t say anything about the two balls that he had gotten his glove on and missed, but his silence said a lot.
I order the two number nines and three other tacos things. He tells me again that it is his usual order and despite the sound it will only set me back around $7 or $8. I shrug and think to myself that he is going away for a week Thursday morning and I’ll be saving lots of money while he is gone.
The queasy feeling I have about the order is confirmed seconds later when the price comes up on the display screen. It reads $12.39.
“Twelve dollars,” I exclaim turning towards him.
I can tell by the uneasy look on his face that he knows he has made a mistake. I complain to him as we start driving up to the pick up window and when I turn to look at him again his face is red and he is clenching his fist. I’m sorry I complained because Michael is usually reserved and when he does get upset it is often volcanic. He starts pounding the arm rest and exclaims: “I screwed up the order just like I screwed up those two fly balls. I hate it when I don’t catch fly balls.”
I don’t deal well with outbursts and am at a loss as to what to say. I’ve also learned that nothing I say is going to make him feel any better about not playing well. I mumble something like “don’t worrying about it” and pick up the order. We don’t talk much on the short drive home.

Ten minutes after the outburst he is at the kitchen table smiling as he devours Taco Bell and talks with his mother and his brother who are eating the McDonald’s food they picked up on the way home from Danny’s baseball game.

In case you are wondering, I didn’t get anything from Taco Bell or McDonald’s, other than the extra large Pepsi that came with the second number nine. Good thing. I didn’t ask for the total of the McDonald’s order, but I suspect fast food for three set me back between $20 and $25 dollars.

A quick update on some recent blog topics:

I did get my haircut. My barber, Gerardo, does a great job, but I like my hair long.

I still have not opened two new pair of sneakers my wife bought two months ago. The rip in my current sneakers that caused me to ask for the new ones hasn’t gotten any worse so I think it will be a couple more months before I open the new ones.

I have not joined Facebook, although I have had a lot of people urge me to join since I blogged about it.

My wife cuts the lawn

2009-06-23T13:48:00.002-04:00

Arriving home for a short break Monday afternoon, I was in a good mood. My sons, who were out, had been home most of the day and being the eternal optimist I thought I might find the house, yard and pool in good shape.
Instead I found dirty cups and dishes in the sink, a full garbage pail, lots of leaves that needed to be skimmed off the pool and some very high grass in the front yard.
When it comes to chores, my 14 and 16 year old are not great self starters.
I did the dishes, took out the garbage and skimmed the pool. I don’t mind doing the work usually, but needed to get back to the R-J so I felt a little stressed. I also worry that my sons don’t learn anything if I do things for them.
On the other hand, I didn’t want my wife coming in to a mess.

My wife arrived home, just as I was leaving. I said hello, but in retrospect I wasn’t very talkative except to tell her about all the leaves in the pool.

About an hour later she called me at work and said she was going to cut the lawn. (The boys were still out with their grandparents). Since we bought the new push mower (you don’t really push it, it’s self-propelled) I’m the only one who has used it so I told her where the gas is and how to empty the clippings out of the bag attachment. I appreciated the initiative, but was worried she might not do the lawn like I do it.

Arriving home around 8:30 p.m., it was nice to see the lawn freshly cut. My wife’s rows were a lot straighter than mine. She did an excellent job getting all the clippings off the lawn in the bag.

The point of this story could be that my sons need to help out more with chores.
But when I saw the lawn cut, I forgot about what my sons hadn’t done and was very appreciative of my wife helping out on a day when I felt a little overwhelmed.

Let me know what you think.

Never mind Facebook, what about my hair?

2009-06-19T13:41:00.002-04:00

Yesterday I blogged about whether I should joing Facebook. Right after I viewed the daily video I do for MyRecordJournal.com. I have to admit, I haven't looked at the video in a few weeks. Shame on me.
Anyhow, when I tuned in I couldn't believe how long my hair is !
Or maybe I'm overreacting. I have an excellent barber, but have never liked getting my hair cut. I actually prefer going to the dentist. The sound and feel of metal scissors cutting hair grates on me like fingernails on a blackboard.

Luckily, my barber and his sons are great conversationalists and distract me enough to get through it.

My wife says she likes my hair long. Others have commented it looks unprofessional. Take a look at my daily vidoe and let me know if you think I should cut my hair. I'm thinking of going on Monday.

Should I join Facebook?

2009-06-18T18:30:00.002-04:00

When I visited a class at Moran Middle School in Wallingford earlier this month, a student asked “Has Facebook changed the way you report the news?”
I responded that it has but admitted I couldn’t explain the specifics because I do not have a Facebook page and have never responded to a Facebook "friend request." Most of the students looked surprised. I told them that I should probably start a page so that I can better understand Facebook’s influence on news reporting. Almost three weeks later, I still haven't joined.

Yesterday, another one of those Facebook e-mails appeared in my inbox. It reminded me that seven people recently invited me to be their “friend.” I remember each of the individual friend requests. I considered responding, but never did. I've known a couple of the people for a long time but don’t run into them that often. I wonder if they keep track of the people who don’t want to be their friends?

I hate to blame everything on teen-agers but my sons soured me on Facebook a couple of years ago. Michael had just joined and I asked if he was going to friend request me. He told me it wasn’t cool for teens to friend request people my age, especially their own father. I told him I wasn’t like other people my age and was “cool” enough to be his Facebook friend. He wasn’t swayed.
A few months later I was talking to another parent we know from baseball and basketball teams. He told me that he and Michael were Facebook friends.
“Mike if I’m not cool enough to be your Facebrook friend why did you respond to Mr. Bradley’s friend request?,” I asked.
“Mr. Bradley is cool,” he said dryly, not realizing or caring about the wound he had inflicted. Believing your son thinks all 40-somethings are not cool is one thing, finding out that he considers some cooler than you is worse.

At first Facebook seemed to be for the younger set. Over the past couple of years I’ve noticed it has become popular with all ages. I’d be curious to hear from other people who don’t have a Facebook page about why they’ve avoided joining and others who have joined about the advantages. Let me know what you think.

R-J news report Thursday, June 18

2009-06-18T12:59:00.001-04:00

Report from the R-J newsroom on Thursday, June 18

Platt and Maloney High Schools hold graduation ceremonies tonight. Look for a full page of graduation coverage, including plenty of photographs in Friday’s Record-Journal.

As of 10:20 a.m., Maloney and Platt officials had not decided whether to hold the ceremony indoors or outdoors. Check out our website, MyRecordJournal.com for the status of the graduation ceremonies.

Federal agents and local police are involved in a warrant sweep in the area today, looking for people wanted on criminal charges. Look for the full story in tomorrow’s Record-Journal.

Also in Meriden, the union representing employees who work at Falcon Field during games and events is expected to vote today on whether to protest the use of volunteers to do work at the field.

In Wallingford, we will be following up on last night’s big announcement by Town Council Chairman Mike Brodinsky that he will not seek another term.

In Southington, look for a story on a well-known drive-in restaurant with a new owner.

In sports we will be taking a look at how rain has effected Wallingford’s Wint Filipek tennis tournament

Upcoming in the Record-Journal

In Sunday’s Record-Journal look for a story on dads deployed overseas on Father’s Day.

On MyRecordJournal.com
I just watched the video interview of Lyman Hall valedictorian Jacqueline Pitcher. I like her thoughts on the importance of balance in life. Check it out when you have a chance.

Tonight look for hundreds of photos out of the Maloney and Platt High School graduation ceremonies.

R-J newsroom report for Wednesday, June 17

2009-06-17T12:19:00.002-04:00

R-J newsroom report for Wednesday, June 17

Wilcox Technical School in Meriden will hold its graduation ceremony tonight. Look for a full page of graduation coverage, including plenty of photographs in Thursday’s Record-Journal.

Also in tomorrow’s Record-Journal, look for the latest news on Wallingford Democrats seeking a spot on the ballot this November. We will be at tonight’s meeting of the Democratic Town Committee and let you know the latest.

In Southington, a long-awaited plan to sell advertising at the high school athletic field appears to be finalized.

In Sports, we have continuing coverage of Meriden’s Little League championship – the City Series.

Upcoming in the Record-Journal

In Saturday and Sunday’s Record-Journal look for coverage of Meriden’s Black Expo celebration.

On MyRecordJournal.comIn our forum section, check out a discussion about shopping locally.

Check out our latest valedictorian video. If features Justin Solomon of Southington.

Tonight look for plenty of photos of the Wilcox graduation on MyRecordJournal.

I still can't figure out what happened

2009-06-16T18:21:00.001-04:00

On Sunday night around 9:20 p.m. I asked my 16-year-old if he wanted to head out to Pat Wall field to catch the end of a Twilight League baseball game. We usually don’t go out that late on a school night, but he had mentioned to me the previous week that he has trouble falling asleep Sunday night (he sleeps late most Sunday mornings) so I figured a baseball game might help. I even offered to let him drive before he asked.
At the game, we ran into some old Little League friends. A couple of Michael’s high school coaches play on one of the teams. He enjoyed seeing them hit and field. The game ended about 20 minutes after we arrived. We were having such a good time, I suggested a short ride. We eventually stopped at Dunkin Donuts so I could get a cup of coffee.

Somewhere in the drive-thru line it happened.

Michael suddenly became angry about not being able to get his license in August because of some problems with his grades. I swear I didn’t even mention his grades or his license. He was so upset it was hard to figure out what prompted the outburst. Eventually I realized it was some conversation he had with my wife a day or two before. I suggested he calm down and said I would talk to mom about it the next day. When he parked the car in our driveway, he was still mad. Despite my warning, he went into the house and immediately continued the fight with my wife, who was having none of it. She was mad. They both went to bed mad at each other.

I was left awake and confused. Less than a half hour earlier I was having a great night, thinking teen-agers really aren’t as bad as I sometimes make them seem in this blog.

Let me know what you think.

Peace man

2009-06-12T15:57:00.003-04:00

My 16-year-old came home with his high school yearbook last night. A peace sign was prominent on the cover.
It didn’t surprise me. Throughout Michael’s sophomore year at Lyman Hall High School, I’ve been peppered with questions about hippies, The Doors, Vietnam, JFK, Malcom X, long hair and Woodstock. His iPod library has plenty of rap, but is about 30 or 40 percent Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, Black Sabbath, Jefferson Airplane, The Rolling Stones and other 1960s bands.
Born in 1963, I didn’t experience the '60s the way older baby boomers did. But when I was in high school in the late '70s and early '80s, many aspects of '60s culture remained.
The '60s had its dark side. Illicit drugs became more main stream. Self-indulgence and casual sex became an accepted part of the culture. Cynicism and conspiracy theories became cool.

As a parent, I admit that this fascination with the '60s sometimes amuses me and sometimes worries me.
Is this latest '60s revival a good thing for teens? Let me know what you think?

R-J newsroom Friday, June 12

2009-06-12T12:32:00.003-04:00

Report from the R-J newsroom on Friday, June 12

The Southington Relay for Life kicks off tonight, look for full coverage in Saturday’s Record-Journal.

Also in tomorrow’s paper, we’ve received word that a Wallingford business, Davidson Foods, which employs about 50 people, will be moving out of town.

Earlier this week the idea of offering a tax break for people who buy a new fuel-efficient car was being discussed in Congress. We will talk to local residents about the possible incentive.

Saturday is knitting in public day. We’ll have a story on local knitters who will be participating.

In Sports, the Southington volleyball team plays in the state championship tonight. Look for the story and photos in the sports section of Saturday’s Record-Journal.

Upcoming in the Record-Journal

In Sunday’s Record-Journal look for a story on some recent campaign ads that Sen. Chris Dodd has been running on TV.

In Monday’s Record-Journal look for coverage of an interfaith service at a Meriden mosque.

On MyRecordJournal.com

Check out our latest headlines. You’ll learn about a Southington police officer who was suspended after being charged with drunk driving. Also, learn about a house fire in Meriden this morning.

I just watched the video of Maloney High School Valedictorian Noreen Sit. Very interesting, especially if you like songs about calculus.

In our forum section, active discussion on Wallingford media personality John Sullivan, who announced this week that is officially seeking his party’s nomination to run for Town Council. One of our forum participants even takes a swipe at yours truly. Check it out on MyRecordJournal.

A sad sneaker story

2009-06-09T18:56:00.002-04:00

A follow up to yesterday’s blog. My wife wanted me to write about my new sneakers and I opted to publicly confess that I re-use Dunkin Donut cups.

Walking around my neighborhood last night, I sensed something damp and gritty rubbing against my socks. The problem was a tear in my sneakers that I discovered about two months ago. It had finally ripped all the way through and sand was working its way in as I walked.

When I first noticed the tear I was sitting in the bleachers with my wife and about a dozen other parents watching my son play baseball. I loudly pointed out the rip and asked my wife if I now “qualified” for a new pair. I admit it was rude and an attempt to embarrass her but it is part of this phase I’m going through. I feel like most of the money we earn gets spent on my sons. In my mind, my wife spends most of the rest on herself and very little seems to trickle down to yours truly. As I see it, my sons seem to get new $100 sneakers regularly while I’m still wearing two-year-old Reeboks that cost me less than $40.
When we got home my wife told me I was out of line and got busy trying to find me new sneakers online. When that failed, she headed out to run some errands and returned with two new pair of Reeboks. I like to buy two pair at a time, one for show and one for chores and exercise. I tried them on, put them back in the box and placed them in the back room, vowing to wear them the next day.

Here is where the story gets strange. Two months later they remain in the box. I have this thing about parting with sneakers, clothing and other items. My wife buys replacements, but then I just can’t seem to actually use them. My home laptop sat in its box for about a year. I insisted I needed a new DVD player three years ago and only took it out of the box several months ago. (I still regret getting rid of the old one. In my mind it worked better.) I just started using a new radio I received for Christmas. There is a coffee maker sitting in my basement that I received for Christmas about five years ago.
I realize I need to replace things that are old and worn and not working properly, but I feel a strange attachment to objects like sneakers, DVD players and computers. Parting with them feels like parting with someone I’ve known for a long time and grown used to.

Since my wife considers herself an expert shopper, this strange habit is an insult to her purchasing prowess. She thinks she bought me some great sneakers at a great price after I complained publicly. Seeing them unopened two months later is annoying at best.

I think feeling the sand on my socks made me realize that my sneakers have given all they can give. I’ll keep you posted. Let me know what you think.

From the R-J newsroom, Tuesday June 9

2009-06-09T12:51:00.002-04:00

From the R-J newsroom, Tuesday, June 9

A kindergarten addition at Hanover School and boiler replacement at City Hall are among the items the Meriden City Council is expected to discuss tonight as part of more than $14 million in proposed projects that would require borrowing. Look for the story in Wednesday’s Record-Journal.

Also in Wednesday’s newspaper, we will let you know why the flag of France is being displayed in downtown Wallingford.

As part of our continuing profiles of local valedictorians, look for the story on Sheehan’s top student.

By the way, I just watched the video interview with Platt’s valedictorian on MyRecordJournal.com Videographer Ben Smithwick and reporter Andrew Perlot did a great job. Check it out.

In sports, Southington and Cheshire boys volleyball teams square off in state tournament semi-final action tonight. That game is at Shelton High school starting at 7 p.m. Look for full coverage in the sports section of Wednesday’s Record-Journal.

Upcoming in the Record-Journal

Lots of weekend events in our area. We will be covering the Southington Relay for Life event and the Brian D. McCarthy Scholarship basketball tournament in Wallingford. Look for stories and photos in weekend editions of the Record-Journal.

On MyRecordJournal.com

Find out about an accident on 691 West that slowed traffic this morning. Check out all the latest headlines.

Don’t forget to vote in our online poll on internet use at public libraries.

Check out my latest written blog on re-using Dunkin donut coffee cups.

Is this story too embarassing?

2009-06-08T18:54:00.003-04:00

“Did you tell John Sullivan about your two new pairs of sneakers,” Mary asks as I return from the Sunday night internet radio show that I do with John, one of Wallingford’s best-known media personalities.
For some reason, I’m not really sure exactly, she wants me to tell him the story about my new sneakers. I think it is because she thinks John will hear the story and tell me how strange I am. She enjoys that.
“I didn’ tell him, but I think I’m going to blog about it,” I said.
She smiles at the thought of me blogging about the two new pairs of sneakers that I have yet to wear two months after she bought them because she always hopeful that revealing my foibles will make the public turn on me.
“But first I’m going to blog about re-using Dunkin Donuts cups,” I add.
Her smile fades.
“I wouldn’t blog about that,” said said.
“Why not?”
“Too embarrassing,” she replies.
“Well then maybe you will get your wish and when they read about it they will finally realize just how difficult you have it.”

I drink about three cups of coffee each morning. The first two I have at home. The third I usually start at home and finish on the ride or after I get to work. For a while I was using one of those re-usable thermos type cups for the third cup. It gave the coffee a “plastic” taste and I had trouble sipping it out of the spill proof opening without spilling on my shirt or tie. I had Mary buy me some generic paper cups with lids. That was kind of expensive and not very environmentally friendly. A few months ago I couldn’t find my thermos cup and we were out of generic plastic cups. I noticed a Dunkin Donuts Styrofoam cup in the car from the night before. I washed it out, poured the coffee in and was on my way to work.
As I drove and sipped, I noticed no spilling. The coffee stayed plenty warm and somehow drinking out of the Dunkin Donuts cup made my brand taste better.
Since then I’ve been saving the medium coffee cups I purchase from Dunkin Donuts every few days and using them to transport my coffee when I leave home. If you look in our kitchen cabinets, you will usually find one or two washed Dunkin Donut cups and lids. When I get a new one, I throw an old one out.

Let me know if you think if I should have listened to my wife and not shared this. Also, would you have preferred to hear the story about the two new pairs of sneakers that I have yet to open?

Record-Journal newsroom Monday June 8

2009-06-08T12:44:00.002-04:00

Record-Journal newsroom report, Monday, June 8

In Tuesday’s Record-Journal look for a story on the Wallingford Board of Education’s final budget for the upcoming fiscal year. The board needs to close a $2.5 million gap. We will let you know how they do it.

Also in tomorrow’s paper, look for a story on a Wallingford poodle that was actually bitten by a deer. Experts say it is unusual but not unheard of and offer some advice on how to protect small pets from wild animals.

St. Bridget’s parochial school in Cheshire has been closed since the end of last week, we’ll let you know what is going on.

In Sports, the Southington girls softball team plays in the Class LL semi-finals against top-ranked Masuk of Monroe. Look for the game story and photos in Tuesday’s Record-Journal sports section.

Upcoming in the Record-Journal

New medical office building is opening in Wallingford. Look for the story in an upcoming edition of the Record-Journal.

On MyRecordJournal.com

Very active forum the negotiations between the Meriden Board of Education and its teacher’s union. Check it out.

Take a look at the Spotted photo gallery on the Cheshire Relay for Life event.

Don’t forget to vote in our online poll on internet use at the Wallingord public library.

Record-Journal newsroom Friday, June 5

2009-06-05T12:11:00.003-04:00

Stories we are working on the Record-Journal newsroom on Friday, June 5

In Saturday's Record-Journal, look for a story on a new proposal on how to handle ethics complaints in Wallingford. There has been a lot of controversy over the past year on some of the decisions the board has made and sparring over its makeup. We’ll let you know about the latest plan.

Also in Wallingford we will have feature story in tomorrow’s newspaper on “bad tie day” at Town Hall.

Meriden will have a new court focusing on legal matters involving children.

In business, we will let you know about expanded hours for an agency that helps people find jobs.

In sports, we’ve already received word that today’s state tournament quarterfinal softball matchup between Lyman Hall and Waterford has been postponed. There may be other postponements. Look for an updated schedule in Saturday’s Record-Journal sports section.

Upcoming in the Record-Journal

In Sunday’s Record-Journal, look for a story on first-term Wallingford Republican councilor John Letourneau’s battle to secure his party’s endorsement.

On MyRecordJournal.com

Very active forum on last night’s decision by the Meriden Board of Education to move forward with a plan to layoff teachers.

The Cheshire Relay for Life event kicks off tonight. We will have a spotted photographer at the event. Look for pics on MyRecordJournal later tonight.

News report on Thursday, June 4

2009-06-04T13:09:00.002-04:00

Some of the stories the R-J newsroom is pursuing on Thursday, June 4.

Meriden Board of Education meets tonight and will once again discuss its final budget for the upcoming fiscal year, most importantly what will be cut. School sports, special academic programs and staff are apparently still on the chopping block. The board may or may not reach final decisions tonight. Look for the story in Friday’s Record-Journal.

Also in Friday’s newspaper, a story on the annual meeting of the Quinnipiac Chamber of Commerce, which includes Wallingford.

We will also let you know about a soap box derby winner in Wallingford.

In Southington, students are headed over to New Britain Superior Court to participate in a mock trial.

In sports, Southington High School, Cheshire, Lyman Hall and Maloney softball teams all play in state tournament quarter finals this afternoon. Look for the stories in tomorrow’s Record-Journal sports section.

Upcoming in the Record-Journal

The Cheshire Relay for Life event starts Friday night. Look for coverage in Saturday’s Record-Journal.

On MyRecordJournal.com

Check out the video on the holocaust survivor that spoke to Southington students yesterday.

Vote in our online poll on political messages and Memorial Day parades?

Later today look for a story on a Meriden boxing club that is running a program at the city’s housing projects.

Sleep disorder

2009-05-29T13:04:00.002-04:00

Up until a few years ago my bedtime routine was probably neurotic, but amazingly consistent. I’d read or watch TV until I was feeling slightly sleepy. I could always sense when I was about a half hour away from dozing off. When my internal clock alerted me, I would start my pre-bedtime routine. First came hygiene, I’ll skip the details but among other things I couldn’t sleep unless every tooth was thoroughly scrubbed flossed and rinsed. When the weather was above freezing, I would always step outside to check the neighborhood. Not sure why exactly, but I liked knowing that everything was OK. After that I moved to making sure every window and door was locked. Not out of fear, but out of habit. Then came any remaining dishes or food that needed to be thrown out or put away. Finally, there was making sure every light or other appliance that needed to be turned off was off and the ones that needed to be one were on. I always checked on the boys and would even make sure my wife hadn’t left her reading glasses on or her book on the bed. The whole thing took about 30 minutes. Then I hit the bed, falling asleep within five minutes.

The first time I fell asleep sitting in my recliner watching TV I was amazed. It was probably the first time in my life I had fallen asleep sitting up. I thought it was just a fluke and didn’t worry. The night before that night was probably the last night that I didn’t fall asleep in my recliner. I doze off around 1 a.m. and usually wake between 2 and 4 a.m. Sometimes I’m wide awake and continue watching TV or reading and then usually fall asleep again in the recliner. Between the recliner and the bedroom I try to do old my pre-bed routine but many nights it is all I can do to get myself up two flights of stairs to the bedroom. I usually do the important stuff but groggy it is no fun. Sometimes I wake up hungry and snack.

I’ve tried a lot of things without much success. If I go to bed too early I lay there for hours and end up getting up and then have trouble falling asleep altogether. My wife gets up a lot earlier and therefore goes to bed earlier. I don’t want to read or watch TV in the bedroom because I’ll disturb her, although she says it won’t. I tried caffeine, late-night showers, no food, more food, exercise, walks, talk radio, iPod, etc. Nothing seems to restore my ability to know when I’m going to nod off.

I used to worry that my old routine was obsessive compulsive. Now I long for it. Any suggestions?

R-J newsroom report for Friday May 29

2009-05-29T12:03:00.003-04:00

Stories we are working on for the newspaper and web site on Friday, May 29

In Saturday’s Record-Journal look for full coverage of the annual Meriden-Wallingford Relay for Life event. Around 3000 people, including 300 cancer survivors are expected to participate. We will also have a Spotted photographer at this event. So look for hundreds of photos on our web site Friday night.

Also in tomorrows paper a story on the possible return of a video arcade to the Meriden Square.

Busy night of activities in Meriden. Along with the Relay for Life we will be out covering the first night of the St. Stan’s Fest. That festival continues on Saturday.

We will let you know about upcoming performances that are part of Southington’s popular Music on the Green concert series.

In Wallingford, we take a look at a Wallingford resident attending Choate who recently worked on a project that involved a presentation to a high-ranking official from the Federal Reserve.

In Sports, look for the full state tournament schedule for baseball and softball teams from schools in our area.

Upcoming in the Record-Journal

In an upcoming edition of the Record-Journal look for a follow up story on the possible closing of the Wallingford branch of the American Red Cross.

Also, a story on the so-far very crowded Meriden mayor’s race.

On MyRecordJournal.comIf you can’t wait for those softball and baseball tournament pairings, check out MyRecordJournal.com. We should have them up this afternoon.

Check out an active forum on MyRecordJournal on a 29-year-old Tennessee man who has reportedly fathered 20 or 21 children.

Only three days left to shop in Aunt Clara’s online store.

Thursday, May 28

2009-05-28T13:32:00.003-04:00

Stories we are working on for newspaper and web site on Thursday, May 28.

In Friday’s Record-Journal, look for a story on the outlook for concessions from unions representing local teachers.

Also in tomorrow’s newspaper, a Meriden City Councilor is calling on fellow party members to avoid a Democratic primary for mayor, saying a primary will be too costly.

We will have a follow-up story on the tragic murder-suicide in Meriden on Wednesday.

In Wallingford, Mayor Bill Dickinson has weighed in on using town funds to buy hybrid vehicles. He's apparently not crazy about the idea.

If the weather cooperates it will be a busy day in sports. Lyman Hall plays Amity in the SCC softball finals. Wilcox Tech plays Windham Tech in their conference final.

Upcoming in the Record-Journal
Look for live coverage of the Meriden Memorial Day parade in Sunday’s newspaper.

On MyRecordJournal.com

Check out the photo gallery of yesterday’s Maloney-Southington volleyball game. Staff photographer Rob Beecher loaded about 60 photos.

Don’t forget to vote in our online poll.

Check out active forums on the death penalty, Supreme Court and North Korea.

Self Improvement setback?

2009-05-26T15:36:00.002-04:00

I recently finished an audio book on time management. The premise is that many of us spend too much time on things that are not aligned with what we consider most important. This causes stress and the stress and its results further blind us from what is most important, creating a self-perpetuating decline in quality of life.
The thing that is most important to me is my wife and two sons. So I’ve been trying extra hard lately to make sure that no matter what else is going on I put them first more often. Recently I messed up. I’ll share the story with the hope it might help you avoid the same.

I was off from work on a weekday and had spent the day and early evening doing yard work and watching my youngest son Danny, 14, play baseball. Early in the afternoon I also spent some time prodding my oldest son Michael, 16, to start his homework. He had a history paper to write on the leadership styles of Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcom X. For the past week or so he has been asking me a lot of questions about the two leaders. At my suggestion, he watched the Spike Lee film “Malcom X.” I was impressed by his willingness to put in extra time on the project. But at 6:30 p.m. my main concern was that he was just getting started on a paper due the next day. Like a lot of teens, Michael procrastinates and that creates problems because he often needs help after 9 p.m. and by that time my wife and are often worn down. When I looked to see how he was doing, he started telling me he was impressed with some of MLK’s quotes and read a couple to me. He also asked me whose leadership style I thought was more effective. That triggered a short discussion about the connection between MLK and Ghandi. I suggested he watch the movie "Ghandi." I should have been impressed by Michael’s interest in the assignment. Instead I was more worried about him finishing too late. I also had this sudden compulsion to cut the lawn and stop at the R-J to see what had landed on my desk after a four-day vacation.
“Dad. You’ll read my paper later on?,” Michael asked.
He knows history and writing were my best subjects so he often asks me to read his history papers for any factual mistakes or awkward sentences.
“Sure Michael. I won’t be back from the Record-Journal until after you are asleep. But I’ll give it a read and leave you a note if I see anything that needs to be fixed. You can do it in the morning.”
He thanked me and I started cutting the lawn. I also decided to clean off the pool cover. Less than an hour’s worth of work became more than two hours. By the time I got to the R-J it was close to 9. By the time I left it was close to 11. By the time I fixed my lunch for the next day, set up the coffee maker and straightened up a few things it was nearly midnight.
At around 7 a.m. my eyes shot open: “I forgot to read his paper.” I checked the alarm clock and realized he had already left.
It seems like a small thing but forgetting to read his paper did add stress to the first half of my day, proof that if you don’t align your time and your values it causes problems. My mistake was putting the lawn, pool cover and work on my desk that could have waited ahead of the one request my son made of me in 24 hours. The other lesson for those of you raising teens now or in the future is that you can’t let the stuff that drives you crazy obscure what is really important. In this case, I focused on procrastination and missed the fact that Michael is extremely interested in history.

If you are interested in the book it is titled “Manage Your Time To Reduce Your Stress: A Handbook for the Overworked, Overscheduled and Overwhelmed” by Rita Emmett.
If you know me and worry the title signals I’m having serious problems, relax. I enjoy audio books and self improvement. I’m not overworked or overwhelmed, but would like to avoid both.
The most important thing I learned from the book is really simple. Just list the four or five most important things in your life. It helps if you think of it in terms of the people, activities and things you would miss most if they were gone. Once you have the list, you compare it to your daily and weekly schedule and make sure you are leaving enough time for the things that are most important. Each day you also have to give yourself a reward. My reward today will be to read for pleasure for at least one hour.

As always, let me know what you think.

Teen driving: Did I do the right thing?

2009-05-21T13:01:00.001-04:00

As I approached Wallingford’s Pat Wall Field from the south Wednesday night around 8:30 p.m., it was a mob of cars and people. The crowd at the Lyman Hall-East Haven baseball game was larger than normal because it was Senior Night. Cars were parked in the lot and along South Elm Street. The bus taking the East Haven kids home was having difficulty maneuvering out of a sea of people in the lot and a line of cars trying to exit but having trouble because their view of oncoming traffic was blocked by the cars parking on the street. (Officially there is no parking allowed on that portion of South Elm because the road is too narrow.)

As I got closer and put on my turn signal, I had trouble figuring out where the entrance was because of all the people, parked and crawling cars. Finally I saw it and realized the car trying to exit was stuck because the driver couldn’t see if was safe to pull out. As I stopped to let her out, the car behind me slammed on its brakes to avoid rear-ending me and a car coming the other way I had to swerve to avoid hitting my front end. When I did make it into the lot, people were walking all around my car and I had to stop several times to make sure I didn’t clip anyone.

My oldest son Michael finally emerged from the crowd. He walked over to the driver side and gave me the signal to move over so that he could drive. He got his permit a month ago and now assumes he will drive anytime he wants. I had let him drive to Pat Wall four hours earlier. But on the heels of the near accident and with a packed parking lot, I told him to get in on the passenger side. He glared and then complied. When he got in the car he accused me of not trusting him to drive and said he needed to learn how to handle difficult situations. I balked again and drove out of Pat Wall with an angry teen in the passenger seat. I stopped about a quarter mile later and offered to let him drive the rest of the way. He was too mad to take me up on the offer and again said that I didn’t trust him and wasn’t helping him by avoiding difficult driving situations. It is not the first time I’ve refused a request to let him get behind the wheel. I’m still uncomfortable with some night and highway driving. I think part of the problem is that my wife and I have slightly different standards when it comes to safe conditions for a new driver. So his mom is letting him drive a little more often than I and it seems I’ve become the bad guy in this situation. Maybe it is deserved.

What do you think?

Thursday, May 21, Stories we are working on

2009-05-21T12:35:00.002-04:00

Thursday, May 21, Stories we are working on in the R-J newsroom

Look for a story in Friday’s paper on teen tanning. Tanning salons are very busy this time of year. We talk to medical experts about the dos an don’ts of indoor and outdoor tanning.

Also in Friday’s paper, look for an update on Meriden’s sidewalk program. Apparently there is some interest in expanding the popular program outside the inner-district.

With one in five American families behind on their utility payments, we look at what power companies serving the local area are doing as far as shut offs.

In Wallingford, there is a walking club at Highland School designed to get kids healthier and combat childhood obesity.

In Southington, Thalberg School held a ceremony marking its 50th anniversary. We were there to cover it.

Upcoming in the Record-Journal

Over the holiday weekend, look for a story on the job prospects for high school students.

On MyRecordJournal.comStaff reporter Andrew Perlot has returned to running. Check out his blog entry. You can also read about Andrew’s experience in Friday’s feature section in the Record-Journal

Check out a new forum discussion on new leash laws for dogs on Meriden’s hiking trails.

If you were at the UNICO event in Southington last night or no someone what was there, chances are we have their picture posted on our web site. Check out the Spotted gallery for the event.

Clarification McCarthy Tournament

2009-05-20T14:11:00.002-04:00

A clarification on the benefit basketball tournament I blogged about yesterday. The organizer Margaret Girard tells me that registration forms will be at the Wallingford Family YMCA soon, but for now e-mail registration to mgirard23@gmail.com. Girard also pointed out that all registrations must be mailed by June 9. No registration the day of the tournament. For more details see yesterday's blog post.

Stories the R-J newsroom is pursuing

2009-05-20T14:06:00.004-04:00

Stories the Record-Journal newsroom is pursuing on Wednesday, May 20

In Thursday’s paper look for a story on the approval of a controversial affordable housing project in Southington.

The Wallingford Democratic Town Committee meets tonight. Look for news in tomorrow’s paper on whether a challenger to Republican Mayor Bill Dickinson emerges.

Meriden officials are changing the rules on the Red Bridge walking path so that walkers are better protected from dogs not leashed.

In Features, we will preview an annual variety show being put on by students at Maloney High School in Meriden.

And in sports, we will have full coverage of the big tennis match today between Platt and Maloney high schools.

Upcoming in the Record-Journal

We are working on a story for our weekend editions about progress on a new walk-in clinic Mid-state Medical Center is building on the former movie theater property next to Interstate 91

On MyRecordJournal.com

Check out the video on the vo-ag fair at Lyman hall High School in Wallingford. Great images of some of the animals and interviews with Vo-ag staff and students.

There are two very active political forums on our web site. The first deals with Meriden City Councilor Brian Kogut’s announcement not to seek re-election. The other has to do with the Wallingford Republican Town Committee not endorsing first-term councilor John LeTourneau.

Brian D. McCarthy Schlarship fundraisers

2009-05-19T16:46:00.002-04:00

In case you missed it, there was a letter in the newspaper Monday from the family of Brian D. McCarthy, written by his father, George “Skip” McCarthy. Here it is:

Support appreciated
Editor: About two weeks ago our son Brian was tragically killed in a motor vehicle accident. While each day seems even more difficult to deal with than the day before, the support and love shown to us by people both within the Wallingford community and beyond has enabled us to get through this most trying time.
There are no words we could use that would ever accurately reflect the feelings we have towards all the people who have spent their time and energy to support both myself and my family.
All we can do is to tell each and every one of you how much you’ve meant to us — and that we love all of you.
On behalf of the McCarthy family, GEORGE MCCARTHY, WALLINGFORD

I also wanted to mention an upcoming event that will raise money for the Brian D. McCarthy basketball scholarship and give everyone a chance to participate in Brian’s favorite sport, basketball. The First Annual Brian D. McCarthy Scholarship Tournament is scheduled for Saturday, June 13, from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., at the Wallingford Family YMCA, 81 S. Elm St. It’s a 3 on 3 tournament. All ages are welcome. Teams of up to 5 people. $15 minimum donation. Sign up forms are available at the YMCA. For further information, contact Margaret Girard at mgirard23@gmail.com or Brian’s older brother, Mike McCarthy, at 203-631-0042.

Brendan Cei, a basketball teammate of Brian’s, tells me there is a pasta dinner on Thursday, June 4, from 5 to 9 p.m. at Lyman Hall. All proceeds will benefit the McCarthy scholarship fund. The food is being prepared by Lyman Hall’s culinary students.

I’m planning to be at both events. Hope to see you all there.

Stories we are pursuing for Wednesday's Record-Journal

2009-05-19T13:34:00.004-04:00

Here is he script for the 5.19 Tomorrow's News today video

In Wednesday’s Record-Journal we will let you know about a Southington woman who has received a prestigious national award for her volunteer work.

Meriden City Council members will meet tonight as part of their ongoing discussion on some changes to trash pick up in the inner district.

Also in Meriden, the city is running a bio-terrorism drill designed to prepare various departments for an actual emergency.

Wallingford high school students that are interested in a teaching career are getting some real-life experience running a nursery school.

In Sports, we have a reporter and photographer assigned to today’s co-ed track meet between Meriden rivals Platt and Maloney. That meet is at Maloney starting at 3:45 p.m.

Later this week in the Record-Journal

We are working on a story on how businesses are using social networking sites like Myspace and Twitter. Look for that in an upcoming edition.

On MyRecordJournal.com

Wallingford’s voag students are running their annual fair this week. Look for a video on MyRecordJournal.

Don’t forget to vote in our online poll on the idea of a foot patrol in downtown Wallingford.

Check out an active forum on a recent letter to the editor written by a woman denied food stamps by the state. And another active forum discussion on President Obama’s recent remarks on abortion.

I miss the obvious

2009-05-13T18:03:00.001-04:00

“If you see someone with it make sure you get it back for me,” my wife Mary tells me as we stand in the lobby of the Wallingford Family YMCA, preparing to leave.
“It” is a reference to her iPOD. She left it on a treadmill and when she went back to the Y a few days later it was not there. Ditto at the lost and found.
She seemed surprised that it wasn’t right where she left it and shocked that no one turned it in.
”Who would want my iPOD?,” she asks.
Just about everyone, I think to myself.
The Y clientele is friendly and honest and I’ve personally witnessed people retrieve watches, wallets, keys and other valuables right where they left them. I was with one of Danny’s friends when we found $300 in store gift certificates he had left next to a vending machine.
But the chance of recovering an iPOD left on treadmill for a few days is slim at the Vatican gym and less anywhere else. In her present state I don’t want to tell Mary that because in these situations if I say ANYTHING her hostility immediately transfers to me.
But the notion that I might be able to spot her iPOD as it passes me connected to someone’s ears is practically begging me to ask the obvious and I think she knows that and that is why she said it. I try to hold back, but can’t.
“Mary, how would I know that someone has YOUR iPOD?”
“Because it has that aqua cover on it,” she replies as though I’ve missed the obvious.
Aqua is her favorite color and she is proud of it. She never pays attention to football on TV unless the Dolphins are playing and then she reminds us that the Dolphins are her favorite team because she loves Dolphins and their aqua uniforms. I’ve heard it her say it at least 200 times in 20 years of marriage.
I know that I should just let it go, but am unable.
“Mary, I’m sure there are thousands of people walking around with aqua covers on their iPODs.”
“You know the playlist of my iPOD,” she counters, again sounding surprised that I didn’t think of it.
Since we are in the lobby in full view of lots of people I do not scream or bang my head against the wall or pull at my hair. It takes me a few seconds to compose myself.
“How am I going to know what is on someone’s playlist? Are you suggesting I rip the headphones from their ears and check it. What if I’m wrong? I’d probably be arrested.”
She huffed and told me I had proven that I really didn’t care about her stolen iPOD.
“I don’t need your help,” she said walking away.

If you have seen an aqua iPOD with my wife’s playlist, please post something on this blog. If you own an aqua iPOD and frequent the Wallingford Y or the southeastern section of town, beware of a pretty brunette, about 5 foot, 3 inches tall, slim, curly hair, green eyes. She looks 35 or 10 years younger than her husband.

Missing baseball cleats

2009-05-11T18:34:00.003-04:00

It is a typical Monday morning. There is plenty of news to cover and a few weekend issues to deal with. The in-basket on my desk is full. My e-mail inbox is at 30 and climbing. My favorite pair of reading glasses broke over the weekend and I need to stop and have them repaired. I have two library books to renew. I haven’t been to the YMCA since Thursday and need to get there tonight. Michael and Danny have a combined three baseball games and will need rides between 4 and 9 p.m.
But at 11:30 a.m. Monday I was worrying about something more important.
“Did Danny find his cleats?,” I ask my Mary on the phone.

This vision of Danny, 14, playing baseball two baseball games in his sneakers had been in my head on and off for about four hours. I couldn’t wait any longer for an update.
It started about 9:30 p.m. Sunday night. Danny was packing his baseball bag and announced he didn’t see his cleats on the back porch. I swept and cleaned the porch Saturday, filling two contractor size garbage bags with cardboard and other debris, including a lot of dirt from Danny and Michael’s baseball cleats.
“Gee Dan I think they were there when I cleaned up Saturday,” I told him as we headed out to double check. No luck.
Danny said he was sure he had left them there. Maybe I accidentally put them in the garbage bags, which were sealed with duct tape.
“Is there anywhere else they might be?” I ask. If I empty the bags it is going to undo much of the work I did Saturday.
Danny tells me the only other place they could be is mom’s van. We head out to check. No luck. Before I start emptying the bags I quiz him again on when he last saw the cleats. He’s certain he brought them into to the house Friday night. I’m skeptical because when his things go missing Danny is always certain he didn’t do anything to lose them.
My wife was calmly sitting at the computer checking e-mail. I went into the basement and reached into one of the bags and immediately pulled my hand out. “Ouch,” I said, remembering that I had swept up some broken glass. I peek inside and don’t see cleats.
The other bag is still on the porch, packed tight with cardboard. There is no way I can see inside the bag or feel for the cleats. As I empty it, I hear Danny talking to Mary.
“That wasn’t Friday night Danny, that was Thursday night,” she said. “Friday it rained and grandma and grandpa picked you up. Do you remember having the cleats on in their car?”
Danny’s memory is a lot fuzzier than when I spoke to him by the van. Looking down at the pile of garbage and dirt on the porch, I see no cleats.
Heading inside, I bark at Danny for making me empty the bags. He tells me he now suspects he may have left the cleats in the school locker room.
“But Dad you had to check to make sure,” he says.
“And now that I’ve checked and not found them I have to pick up everything that I poured out. Don’t I?,” I shoot back.

An hour later Danny is sleeping and I’m feeling guilty about barking at him over losing something.
When I reach my wife Monday at 11:30 a.m., she has not heard from Danny but has a backup plan. If he can’t find his cleats at school, she will ask my in-laws to pick him up a cheap pair and bring them to his 3:30 p.m. game since they were planning to attend anyway.
“Let me know if you hear anything.” I ask, hanging up.
I went back to work feeling a little better. About 2 p.m. I received a text message that my wife had forwarded from Danny. “Found my cleats in the locker room.”

I've seen this one before

2009-04-29T18:31:00.001-04:00

A police union votes overwhelmingly that they have no confidence in the police chief. The police chief states “I am going nowhere.”
We’ve covered at least two similar situations in my 23 years at the newspaper. Both were drawn out affairs that ended up costing the towns involved a lot money and effort.
If you read the Record-Journal regularly it comes as no surprise that the Southington police union passed a no confidence vote on both Chief Jack Daly and his supervisors on the police commission. Both sides have been haggling for months. Things appeared to thaw slightly around the start of the year, but it is now clear the two sides are never going to resolve their differences on their own.

Southington’s Town Manager John Weichsel is also apparently unable or unwilling to mediate. It may be time for Deputy Town Manager Mark Sciota to get involved or maybe he has already tried. If Sciota can’t resolve it, the only option left is the Town Council.
One thing is certain. The situation cannot remain as is because the people of Southington are the ones who lose. A union and police chief battling each other can’t fight crime as well as a department that is working together. My suggestion is that an ad hoc group of say one or two councilors and an administrator or two be appointed to meet with both sides to determine if an agreement can be mediated. Perhaps a retired officer that both sides respect could also be involved. If there is no chance for resolution, other options should be explored. This problem has festered for too long. Left on its own, it will only worsen.

Let me know what you think.

You have to read this one

2009-04-29T17:27:00.005-04:00

My family complains I am making myself sound too good in this blog. I find that hard to believe. If you read it regularly my faults are obvious. I’ve explained to them that the best way for them to set the record straight would be to respond to my blog or better yet start their own. I think the public, especially those we cover regularly, would enjoy reading about the dark side of the Record-Journal’s executive editor. They have not responded because they feel any attacks will only make readers feel sorry for me, enhancing my image even more.

Since they won’t set the record straight, I will. If you read the blog regularly you already know:
I’m not very good at household chores.
I’ve been accused of throwing away forks and spoons.
I lecture my teen-agers too much and don’t consider their point of view.
When there is family discord, I am the first to try to fix things and in the process only make things worse.
I am more prone to help a woman in distress than a man in a similar situation. This may sound noble, but it is a form of stereotyping.
I don’t know how to make a sandwich.
I exercise regularly and then eat too much. In the end, I never lose weight.
I find it difficult to admit to my teens that I was once a teen-ager and did things that I shouldn’t have done.

I think it is a good solid list of some pretty serious shortcomings. But since my family thinks I sound too good, let me add a few:

My wife’s main complaint about this blog is that I come off sounding sensitive and caring. I never intended to portray myself as sensitive and caring. Among other things, when my wife tells me something I don’t listen. And then two minutes later I ask her about what she just told me that I didn’t hear, making it obvious that I don’t listen. Also, when she ties to tell me about her problems, I offer solutions when all she wants is for me to listen and shut up.
I am not good at fixing things around the house.
I think I am good at hiring people to fix things. My wife thinks I always overpay and am too lenient with the workers.
I don’t like watching the same movies as my family. I prefer movies about history or conspiracies or both. I also like reading non-fiction, listening to WFAN, watching a ball game or C-Span. The key word here is “I.”
I frequently talk about my son Danny as though he is not in the room.
I sleep late when I can. My sons also sleep late when they can. My wife gets up early.
When talking to my 16-year-old son Michael, I frequently turn almost anything he mentions into a lesson about the evils of drinking, sex, smoking pot, speeding or something else he shouldn’t be doing.
Speaking of Michael. When he drives I sit in the front seat and dispense too much advice.
When my wife or sons raise their voice at me, I get quieter. That drives Mary and Michael nuts. Danny deals with it better.
I don’t socialize much. When I do, I don’t drink alcohol. The overwhelming opinion is that if I drank I would be a lot more fun when socializing.
My idea of socializing is watching my sons play a double header and talking to the other parents about baseball.
I tell people that I am younger than my wife. This is an outrageous lie. No one believes me.
I make women in their 20s laugh a lot and convince myself that they think I am funny and young. They are really laughing at me, not with me. When my wife points this out, she laughs harder than the women in their 20s.
Although I am breaking down physically and mentally in many ways, I am way too proud about the fact that I still have lots of hair and very little gray. I intentionally mention that I don’t dye my hair around women who dye their hair regularly.

I could go on forever, but I have other things to do around here. I think this list should quiet the notion that I am making myself sound too good in this blog.

Those who know me, feel free to post any other faults that I left out. If you feel I have positive qualities, this would be a good time to chime in.

Page one story on Coalition for Unity

2009-04-27T15:56:00.000-04:00

A page one story in Saturday’s newspaper points out that Wallingford’s student population is nearly 17 percent minority while the number of minority school professionals is less than 2 percent. This has to be hurting the school system’s efforts to educate the town’s growing Latino population. A new superintendent will be starting July 1. The town’s Coalition for Unity met with him last week on the issue, but Salvatore Menzo said it was too early for him to discuss specifics. That is understandable. The fact that he met with the group so soon is probably a good sign.

Left on his own, Menzo may or may not make more progress than his predecessors. The town can’t really afford to leave something so important to chance. The school board should sit down with Menzo and give him some realistic goals and the encouragement to try some new approaches. Clearly, the current ones are not working. Those goals should be reviewed quarterly and at the end of the year a progress report should be made public.

Let me know what you think.

Flatware mystery

2009-04-27T15:28:00.003-04:00

My wife and I are standing in a big box department store looking at flatware. I am surprised at the cost. You can purchase a setting for two for about $10, but we can tell that the stuff is too flimsy. You can buy spoons and knives separately for $1 each, but it looks like the fork would bend if you tried cutting a piece of meat. The nicer stuff seems to be upwards of about $15 a setting.

We came in to the store on Friday night to pick up some other things that had been on her list for several days and ended up looking at forks and spoons because about an hour earlier when I had gone to eat some eggplant leftover from her lunch I noticed there were no forks in the drawer.
“We don’t have any forks?,” I asked, somewhat surprised because it seemed like only six months earlier there had been at least 8 to 10 in the drawer. I noticed the number dwindling, but it didn’t hit home until right then.
We were actually down to three forks. Since my wife and two sons had eaten dinner earlier all three were sitting in the dish strainer drying.
Where did the other forks go?

My wife’s theory is that when I have a late-night snack on a paper plate I throw out the fork and/or spoon (curiously we are also down to three teaspoons) away with the plate. My sons support this theory.
As usual, their theory blames me although they can produce no actual evidence.
My theory is more interesting. I don’t quite know why, but someone or something enters our house and only steals our flatware, passing up much more valuable items. It could be the beginning of an X-Files episode. In fact it could be a two-parter because someone or something also enters the house and steals my socks somewhere between the time they enter the washing machine and exit the dryer.

I’m just wondering if anyone else is missing forks and spoons? If so, feel free to share your own theory. Also, your approximate location so I can determine if there is some geographic pattern to the thefts. Finally, let me know if you find my wife’s theory or mine more plausible.

By the way, we passed on buying forks and spoons until we figure out where they are going. I’m the last one to eat breakfast so I used a plastic spoon this morning.

Did I do the right thing?

2009-04-24T18:35:00.002-04:00

On Thursday night, around 7:30 p.m., I was pumping gas at the station next to Zandri’s Stillwood Inn on Route 5 in Wallingford. About the same time I started filling my SUV, a car pulled in on the other side of the pumps. A woman, who looked to be in her early 20s, got out of an older model compact car and walked toward the pump.
A few minutes later, I was done and she had not started. She poked her head around the pump and started to speak but nothing came out. Her eyes went down and then up at me.
“I know this sounds strange, but it won’t accept my card. Do you have $5 for some gas?.”
Unfortunately, I rarely carry cash.
“I’m sorry I don’t have any money,” I said. She muttered something, turned, got back into her car and started talking on her cell phone. I guessed that she was almost out of gas and didn’t want to chance driving to another station. But I’m not sure. She looked really distressed. I got into my car and searched my console. Sometimes I stick a couple of bucks in there and forget and sometimes I put aside quarters and accumulate a few bucks. No such luck. If I had found any money I would have given it to her. It occurred to me as I was driving away (She was still in her car) I could have simply swiped my debit card and pumped her $5 worth. For some reason I hadn’t thought of that earlier. Instead of turning around and helping, I drove off.

When I got home, I told my wife the story.
“That’s not like me,” I said. “I should have helped her.”
My wife scoffed. “I wouldn’t have given her anything,” she said, suspecting the girl might have been trying to scam me.
I don’t think so. Scam artists don’t try for $5.
“If it was a man you wouldn’t be worried about not helping,” she said. Good point. The fact that it was a woman made assume she was more helpless. That’s stereotyping.
Ten years ago I think I would have handled it differently. Twenty years ago I’m certain I would have.
It seems a lot of us are more suspicious and indifferent today. The girl was someone’s sister, someone’s child. Maybe she is related to someone I know. I don’t think I did the right thing.

Let me know what you think.

Teen-ager procastinator

2009-04-23T14:33:00.003-04:00

“Are you all set for Michael’s driving test tomorrow,” I ask my wife, who is sitting at the computer looking at practice tests at about 7:30 p.m. Monday. Michael turned 16 that day and Mary had taken Tuesday off to bring him to get his learner’s permit.
“I’m set, but I’m not sure about Michael,” she replies, with a sigh that tells me I’m about to hear something less than positive. She explains as far as she can tell Michael has not started studying.
“He never even printed the stuff off the computer,” she says.
“Where is he?” I ask, learning that Michael has been out since about 3 p.m. Mary hasn’t seen him since he and three friends ate some birthday cupcakes in our kitchen and headed off to hang out at another house.
“Unless he passes the practice test I’m not taking him. I can’t afford to waste the time off,” she says.
I do some quick math and realize that unless Michael starts studying immediately his big day is in jeopardy. I also learn she texted him about a half hour before and he still hasn’t responded, which is unusual. I figure he is doing a little rebelling on his 16th birthday and decide to call him. No answer, I leave a message and head out to the YMCA. I expect to hear from him before I arrive but don’t. In the middle of my workout, I check my phone, still no message. I call Mary. She hasn’t heard. It’s around 8:30 and I’m bordering on minor panic. Finish my workout around 9:15 p.m. No message, Mary also hasn’t heard. We are both ready to kill him. Our concern is shifting from his failure to study to the more serious: “Where is he and why isn’t he answering.” Michael is not one to ignore our calls or texts for almost three hours.

At 10 p.m. I had given up all hope he would study or pass the test and was mainly interested in finding him. After thinking the worst, I drive to his friend’s house and find him. He’s angry as he gets into my vehicle because he can tell I thought he was up to something.
“I have no cell phone service here,” he explains. “I texted you guys three hours ago.”
I don’t even bother to ask how we are supposed to receive a text from a phone with no service because I am glad to see him.
“Have you studied for the test ?,” I ask. He calmly tells me he is planning on studying when we get home and will probably be at it until 1 a.m.
As we drive away he sees about two dozen calls and texts that we have made and sent during the previous three hours and sees they grow more angry and threatening. For example, “If I don’t hear from you in five minutes, I’m not taking you for the test.”
“Oh man,” he says. “I hope when I get home you guys aren’t going to freak out on me.”
Why would we freak out?

Imagine, having months to study for what he considers the most important test of his young life and instead putting it off until 10 p.m. the night before.
At around midnight, I hear the snoring coming from his room and look in. He has papers spread out all over his bed and he has fallen asleep. I am sure he is going to fail the test.
At about 2 p.m. on Tuesday I get a text from my wife. “He passed. Waiting to get his permit.”
I can’t believe it.

Furloughs vs. Wage freeze or layoffs

2009-04-23T13:13:00.004-04:00

We ran a page one story today on the idea of considering furloughs for Wallingford town and school workers instead of a wage freeze or layoffs (which is the choice that Mayor Bill Dickinson has offered the unions). During a meeting Tuesday four town councilors, two from each party, voted to have the personnel director offer furloughs to the unions. Mayor Dickinson is not embracing or discounting the idea, although an article last week on the same topic indicated he will only accept a wage freeze.
I like the mayor’s approach and think the council should have stayed out of it. Furloughs can create as many problems as they solve because services still need to be provided while workers are taking unpaid days off.

By remaining at least publicly cool to the furlough idea, Dickinson is again showing he is a much shrewder politician than most people think. The voters are looking for “wage freeze” or even “wage reductions.” “Furloughs” doesn’t play as well with taxpayers who have lost their job, had their wages frozen or reduced.

By supporting the furlough idea, Democrats Mike Brodinsky and Vin Testa risk appearing weak to voters. Brodinsky has already ruled out a run for mayor. Testa may still be considering one. I don’t think the furlough initiative is going to win votes.

Let me know what you think

Where are all the football players?

2009-04-20T18:41:00.001-04:00

My sons have always played baseball and basketball. Over the years, I’ve been at games and noticed a kid with a good build and plenty of speed and think: “That kid should be playing football.” More often than not I find that the child has never considered playing football or that his parents have forbidden him to play because he might get hurt. To a certain extent, I understand. My sons don’t play football, although at this point neither of them has a football body.

A colleague was telling me recently that she was worried because her son told her he wanted to play football when he starts high school next year. I could relate to her son’s desire. Even though I was a pretty good soccer player and my thin build was better suited for soccer, I surprised everyone in my family and chose to pass on soccer in the fall of my freshman year and play football instead. Football was the coolest sport back in the late 70s and a chance for a young man to prove his courage. For the next three years, I got pounded regularly. I was undersize and not very good, but I stuck it out through my junior year and only quit after it became apparent that as a senior I didn’t have much chance of getting varsity playing time.

Do I regret playing football? No way. High school football was about the hardest thing I ever did. The practices were brutal, the coaches were like drill sergeants and in the games I did play in I was often overmatched and run into the ground. After high school football, everything seemed easy. While I never played many varsity downs, I take great pride that I simply survived three years.

In Wallingford and other towns, there is a shortage of football players. Scared parents, soccer and the desire to play baseball or basketball virtually year-round have all taken its toll on the sport that most closely resembles basic training for the military. I think it is a shame more kids don’t play football. My football experience still helps me nearly 30 years later.

Let me know what you think?

New Wallingford School Super

2009-04-20T18:06:00.002-04:00

I read with interest the profile in Sunday’s newspaper of new Wallingford School Superintendent Salvatore Menzo. My main question after reading it is: Why did the school board opt NOT to hire someone from a larger or at least comparable-size school district? The Marlborough district that cur-rently employs Menzo has 700 students. Wallingford has 7,000. The entire Marlborough school budget is $7 million. Wallingford’s budget is $85 million. Marlborough is really not a school district in the sense that we think of it in this part of the state. Marlborough has one elementary school. After sixth grade, students attend regional schools.

The article by staff reporter Samaia Hernandez points out Menzo’s many qualifications. But I would like to know whether the other finalists the Wallingford school board considered came from larger districts than Marlborough (they had to) and what kind of discussion board members had about the giant leap that Menzo is taking. I think the other issue I have is related to the first. Considering his lack of experience running a school district with more than one school, why did the board hire him at the high end of the salary scale ($165,000)? I would expect that kind of salary if someone was coming from a larger district or a similar size one.

Let me know what you think.

No free lunch

2009-04-16T19:02:00.004-04:00

“I put more money on your lunch account,” my wife tells Michael, 15, as we enjoy a rare family dinner at home the other night.
Apparently Michael was slightly overdrawn after his last lunch purchase and she was trying to square up his account and make sure he has plenty of money in reserve. Michael interjected that the lunch ladies never worry when he is overdrawn because the cash flow from my bank account to the school lunch coffers is reliable and never ending.

I was a little jealous because that day I had a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch for the second day in a row. While I was eating it I was thinking how good a hot lunch might be for a change. I stopped eating lunch out a long time ago to save money. When I suggested that my sons, who get hot lunch every day, might occasionally brown bag to save money I was outvoted 3 to 1. My wife protested loudest because she would have to add sandwich making to her already busy morning routine that includes driving them both to school. (I say make them walk but that is another blog). I suggested she make the sandwiches the night before and she looks at me like I’m from another planet. You can’t make sandwiches the night before, she explains, they will get soggy.
“But I make my sandwich the night before,” I reply.
She snarls and tells me that I don’t put anything on my sandwich but meat and cheese and therefore there is nothing to get soggy but that no normal person eats a sandwich that way. Truth be told I prefer my sandwich with a little mayo, lettuce and tomato but don’t have time to make it that way in the morning so I make it dry the night before and make do.

At the dinner table earlier this week I considered raising the hot lunch issue again because the country is in the midst of an economic crisis. With people out of work and some unable to afford necessities, I thought it might be a good time to suggest that the children sacrifice a little. Instead I chickened out and said nothing.

Should I raise the issue again?