New Year 2022

So, here we are, on the cusp of another year into the new millennium. Can you believe that it’s been over 20 years since we made that monumental transition? When I was a kid, I imagined that we’d have flying cars (à la The Jetsons) by the year 2022. But we’re not quite there yet. And judging the way some people drive traditional cars, I’m not sure that I’d want them “driving” the friendly skies.

As expected, I’ve heard people talking about their New Year’s Resolutions. It’s the same typical mantra….lose weight, exercise, blah, blah, blah. Of course, most of the same people were making the same resolutions last year, And the year before. And the year before that…The happiest people this time of year is, no doubt, gym owners. Years ago, when I was a regular gym rat, I used to dread the month of January. You could always count on droves of “resolutionists” flooding the local gyms and causing major back-ups at the treadmill. Of course, this only lasted for a few weeks, Once Planet Fitness blindsided them with pizza night, it was game over.

My resolutions are modest and obtainable. For instance, my good buddy Chad has been on my ass to watch “Yellowstone”. I have started that path and I resolve to conclude it in early 2022. Keeping it simple is often the best approach…

There was a time when I looked forward to New Years Eve. It was always a fun night to be spent with family and friends. We would often party into the wee hours of the morning. But somewhere along the way, I got old. Nowadays, I’m asleep well before that famous ball even starts its decent.

No doubt, it’s been another challenging year. Most people would have thought that we’d be out of the COVID woods by now. But Omicron crashed the party and, well, here we go again. Let’s hope that 2022 will be the year that we can finally say goodbye to the Coronavirus and all its unwelcomed variants.

And as I finish up with this one, I just learned that beloved actress Betty White just passed away. She was a breath of fresh air, even at the age 99. Rest in peace, Betty. And thank you for being a friend 😉

Whatever plans you might have for the evening, please be safe and healthy. Wishing you and yours the happiest of New Years. 

kw

 

 

 

 

 

A Christmas Message 2021

 There was a time, not so long ago (at least it doesn’t seem that way), when I would gingerly make my way down the stairs on Christmas morning to see what Santa had left behind. There was always a tinge of concern that there might not be anything. I would weigh the “naughty” versus “nice” moments from the previous year as I descended into the living room. I am happy to say that Santa never disappointed….

These days, that same anticipation has transitioned into watching my grandkids tear the wrapping from their gifts. And there’s never any need to weigh the "good" versus "bad" moments. Because as any grandparent will tell you, grandchildren are the perfect angels and could never do anything wrong. 😊

As I take a little quiet time for myself this morning, I look forward to the busy day ahead. Tina is preparing to wake up to her latest birthday (I won’t tell you the actual number because that would definitely fall into the naughty category). Sharing a birthday celebration with a guy named Jesus Christ is a lot to handle. So, I’d better make sure that I have a fresh pot of coffee waiting for her when she makes her way downstairs.

Christmas is a great time for reflection. This will be the first year that we’ll be celebrating the holiday without Tina’s mom, Evelyn. And it’s also our first Christmas without my beloved cousin and mentor, Virginia. While they have left this earth, they remain with us in spirt as we regularly relive all the great moments that made them so special. And today will be no different.

No doubt, it’s been a challenging year in many ways. But as we prepare for Christmas Day and move into the New Year, try to focus on the positive things in your life. Nothing is guaranteed in life, so don’t take things for granted. When you gather with family and friends later, take a moment to appreciate them. And don’t leave any compliments or endearments on the table. Tell people how you feel about them now.

I’ve found that being kind to people is one of the main keys to happiness. Not only do you have the potential change a person’s day, but through a random act of kindness you can also change a person’s life. These can be the simplest things. If you see someone without a smile, give them yours. There’s no telling where things could go from there…

I recently heard a rather profound statement. It went something like this...”Anger is the punishment that we give ourselves for other people’s mistakes.” Think about that for a minute…

As you celebrate this special day, please keep our troops and first responders in your thoughts. And take a moment to remember Officer Keona Holley of the Baltimore City Police Department. She was senselessly gunned down while on duty last week. May she rest in peace and may her family find the strength to get through this difficult time.

In closing, I’d like to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas. And thank you for being a part of my life…

kw

Mick Jagger Walks Into a Bar...

The other night, I was having dinner and few libations at a local seafood restaurant. One of the employees decided to conduct an impromptu survey. It consisted of showing photos of iconic musicians to a specific group of customers. The "specificity" included anyone under 30 years of age.

The photo selection included well known performers like Elton John, Billy Joel. Prince and Bruce Springsteen. After showing these photos around the bar, he informed us that only one out of ten people could identify these celebrities. Several people thought that the Prince photo was Michael Jackson. Most of them had no idea who the other three were. And these weren't ambiguous photos designed to trick anyone. They were all photos that most of us have seen before...

I understand that young people might not have Billy Joel and Elton John on their regular play lists. But how can they not know who these people are? As a teenager, I wasn't exactly blasting Elvis or Buddy Holly through the speakers of my '74 Duster. But I could certainly identify them. 

Right on the heels of this, I was just reading a story about Mick Jagger walking into a North Carolina bar and to have a beer. Yes, it's kind of strange to hear that the Stones' iconic front man casually walked into a bar. But what's even more strange is that no one seemed to notice him. In the photo below, you can see Mick sipping on a beer at the Thirsty Beaver bar. It turns out that several of the people in the photo actually had tickets to the Rolling Stones show in Charlotte the following night. How do you not notice Mick Jagger knocking back a beer next to you?? Especially after you just spent $500 to see his band the following night??

This all takes me back a few years ago when I was in Florida for a big 3-day country music concert. The final night of the event was headlined by Toby Keith. After the show, Tina and I, along with our friends Kevin and Lorri, decided to stop off at a local oyster bar for a night cap. At some point, a small group of guys came in and sat at a nearby table. We didn't really pay them much attention. A short time later, I bumped into one of the them as I was entering the men's room (As Bruce Springsteen might say, I was walking in, he was walking out). Anyway, I said something like, "Sorry, bud. My fault."  

With his head down, the guy replied, "No problem."

So, I return to my table and take a sip of my beer. Before long, Kevin asks, "Do you think you would recognize Toby Keith if he was in this bar?"

I said, "Of course. We just came from his show!"

"Well, be subtle. But look at that table across from you," Kevin said quietly as he motioned to the nearby table with his eyes.  

Not doubt, it was Toby Keith. And even more surprising, it was the same guy that I literally bumped into earlier. It was pretty cool to be sitting across from the "rock star" who just closed down a three-day music festival. And as much as we wanted to say hello, we realized that this was his personal time and we didn't want to intrude. But eventually, when he passed our table again, Lorri asked him if we could take a quick photo with him. Similar to the bathroom interchange, he smiled and replied, "No problem."

We took a quick photo and thanked him. And that was that....

So when I think about all of this, I guess I can understand how someone might not recognize a celebrity right away. But Mick Jagger? Yeah, I'm pretty sure I would recognize him....

kw

Remembering 9/11 - 20 Years Later

Although today marks 20 years since the heinous attacks of 9/11, I still remember it like it was yesterday. As with most Americans, it will always remain as one of the worst days of my life. While I never personally knew anyone who died on that day, it felt like I had lost countless friends that I had not yet met. Nor would I ever get the chance...

Anger, despair, fear, confusion,.....all of these emotions were overwhelming me. With my eyes fixated on my TV screen, I wondered if I was simply having a bad dream or if I had accidently tuned into a science fiction movie. Sadly, it was neither. It was real. And raw. And so ugly...

I watched first responders desperately try to control the situation. They did what they could to calm people. But the situation was beyond anything they could ever prepare for. Countless firefighters bravely entered the unstable buildings. They put their own fears on the shelf, knowing that they might never come out alive. A new breed of hero was emerging. But at an unfathomable price.

And then the buildings came down...

A lone firefighter, covered in soot and kneeling on one knee, tried to regain his composure. He was mentally and physically exhausted. He had just watched a building collapse on hundreds of his brothers. He briefly looked to the sky, searching for any source of hope or inspiration.

As the days progressed, America remained on edge. Was there another imminent attack? Were there any survivors under all of the rubble? How many fathers, sons, mothers and daughters would never make it home again?

Random strangers came together to offer whatever comfort they could. We were all in this together. We didn't really know how to respond to it. But we knew someway, somehow, we would prevail. We knew this because we were Americans. No matter how dire the circumstances, America always prevails.

So, as I sit hear 20 years later, I reflect on how that infamous day changed me....

First off, my love of this country has only grown stronger. I could have been born anywhere in the world. But I wound up in America. It's like drawing a winning lottery ticket every day. I still get goosebumps every time I hear the "Star Spangled Banner". 

I've also learned that you can't take life for granted. When you leave for work in the morning, there is no guarantee that you'll make it home. I remember being at a party a few years ago with family and friends. At some point, I looked around and imagined many of these people not being around anymore. I had to step away for a moment because I started to get emotional. This had never happened to me before. But it reinforced the fact that the people in your life are everything.

I've learned to live life to the fullest. Life isn't a dress rehearsal, it's the main attraction. The best way to honor those who have passed is to live a great life. Smell the flowers, dance to the music or whatever else makes you happy. 

There's also something to be said about random acts of kindness. I have had many conversations with many different people over the years. You never know what someone is going through until you actually talk to them. Never underestimate what a few simple words of encouragement can do for someone. 

A few years after 9/11, my son entered the Army and eventually wound up in Iraq. Before he left, he gave me a dog tag with his name on it. I said that I would wear it until he came back home. I would get strange looks as I went through metal detectors. I would explain that my son was Iraq fighting the good fight. The security person would then shake my hand and say, "I understand. Thank your son for his service". I was eventually able to breathe a huge sigh of relief when I was able to take the dog tag off. My heart goes out to the countless military families who never got to have the same happy reunion. The sacrifices of these brave men and women must never be forgotten.

With all of this being said, I will never forget that tragic day of 20 years ago. I know we've still got some work to do in this country. But remember, we're all still Americans. Let's try to set aside our differences and find a way to come together once again as the United States of America. It's the least we can do for all of those who were lost on 9/11 and all of those who bravely gave their lives in the fight against terrorism. 

kw

A Visit From The Sea Urchin

Yesterday, Tina and I made dinner plans with our good friends, Joe and Fran. Initially, we discussed going to one of the local Irish pubs because, after all, who doesn't like an Irish pub? But ultimately we all agreed on hitting our local go-to Asian restaurant, the Passion Asian Bistro. They have a wide variety of familiar Chinese menu items as well as an impressive selection of sushi.

We settled into our seats and we were quickly greeted by our host. As he takes our drink orders, he recognizes us from previous visits. He grins, then holds his hand about eye level and says, "Tall one, right?" Of course, he's referring to the large draft beers that we always order with dinner. I'm not really sure of the exact size of these beer glasses, But when the guy returned with three gigantic Stellas, he seemed a bit exhausted. He presented Tina, Joe and I with our beers (Fran graciously volunteered to be our designated driver for the evening). As he placed each beer in front of us, he reiterated, "Tall one!" and giggled.

We all ordered our dinner. Joe and I opted for a couple sushi rolls while the ladies ordered some more traditional menu items. About mid-way through the meal, another hostess appeared and announced, "We have sea urchin tonight". 

We looked at each other and simultaneously replied, "Hmmm."

"You want to to try?" asked the hostess.

Again, we looked at each other but with a little more uncertainty this time. I had completely finished my first gigantic beer and I could tell that it was already having a compromising effect on my judgment. So, I broke the ice and said, "Sure, we'd love to have some of that sea urchin."

Our hostess's face immediately lit up and she said, "Very good. How would you like it?"

She gave us some choices but I had no idea of what they meant. So, Tina spoke up and said, "We'll take it whatever you recommend."

"Very good. I will have the chef prepare it now", she said.

As the hostess walked away, Fran made it perfectly clear that she was not partaking in our spontaneous sea adventure. I think she said something like, "Do you even know what you just ordered?"

"Of course", I confidently replied. "It's sea urchin."

Fran just shook her head and laughed. 

I suggested that someone Google a picture of a sea urchin. But Tina quickly shot that idea down. She said that if we saw what it looked like, we wouldn't want to eat it. Now, I was started to get worried. And then she added that sea urchin is considered a delicacy and that it was probably quite expensive. I tried to play things down by reminding everyone that we only live once. 

A short time later, our hostess returned with the mystery fish. It didn't look anything like I expected. I figured it would be a fleshy cut of fish similar to tuna or salmon. But instead, it resembled an orange paste topped with what liked like black caviar. Each pasty row was laid upon a small leaf of lettuce. It looked innocent enough but there was still some apprehension in the air. 

We examined the pasty blobs, poking at them and viewing them from different angles. It was reminiscent of that scene in  "My Cousin Vinny' where Vinny and Lisa discover grits for the first time. Eventually, we all made the decision to jump in...

Tina, Joe and I each grabbed our respective sea urchin, carefully balancing it on the lettuce leaf. We gingerly raised it to our mouths as if it were a cup of Jim Jones' Kool-Aid. We simultaneously took a bite, watching the expressions on each others faces. Our faces initially contorted like we had bit into a sour lemon. But that look gave way to another surprised look of utter disgust. If I had to describe it, I imagine that sucking on a sweaty gym sock would be quite accurate. It was an explosion of bitterness followed by heavy notes of sea sludge. The awful flavor lingered on my palate for an uncomfortably long time. I desperately wished that I had a glass of strong whiskey to wash the pungent taste out of my mouth. I shook my head from side to side, hoping that it would bring some kind of relief. But it did no good. 

Joe and I were in pretty bad shape. But Tina seemed to be taking things in stride. She explained that she had put some wasabi on her sea urchin. I guess it offset some of the punishment. Well played...

We all quickly returned the half-eaten sea urchins back to their serving tray. As the three of us continued on the road to recovery, Fran just laughed. I think she really enjoyed seeing us in this moment of despair. She even snapped some photos with her phone similar to the way Lisa did when Vinny tried his first grit.

When the dust finally settled and our taste buds regained consciousness, our hostess returned and saw that we didn't finish the delicacy. She had an initial look of disappointment on her face. But it quickly transitioned into a subtle laugh. I have a feeling that she had seen this reaction before. To her credit, she did not charge us for the sea urchin. We were willing to pay. After all, we did order these things. But she insisted that we would not be changed. That's great customer service and that's one of the reasons we love this place.

So, in the end, I can now say that I've tried sea urchin. But I can't say that it was pretty. So, if any of you ever go down this experimental route with this mystical sea creature , let me give you one piece of advice....Have a strong shot of your favorite liquor nearby. And if that isn't possible, a small glass of gasoline will suffice.

kw

Chad vs. Lewis - The Recurring Swatdown

Lewis spends most of his day sleeping. His intermittent slumbers are interrupted only by his occasional desire to eat. He's a happy-go-lucky fellow that usually minds his own business.  I guess you could call him a cool cat. Mainly, because he is a cat.

My long-time friend, Chad, was first introduced to Lewis about ten years ago. The relationship started off without much ado. But it gradually escalated into the tumultuous kinship that they currently share. This is their story.... 

In ways, their interactions could be loosely compared to the Michael Douglas/Glenn Close relationship in "Fatal Attraction". Of course, Lewis doesn't wield a knife or a pair of scissors. Instead, he possesses a set of sharp claws. I've been told that he sharpens these claws whenever hears that Chad will be visiting. But I have not witnessed it for myself.

Much like an approaching storm, Chad's arrival casts an ominous shadow over Lewis's demeanor. As Chad's Dodge minivan (ironical referred to as "The Black Tiger") rolls into my driveway, you can see the hair on Lewis's back start to stand up.. His tail fluffs up like a Swiffer duster. He then begins to methodically pace the room. (I like to refer to this part as the calm before the storm).

As Chad walks towards the house, a subtle growl can be heard. I have never known a cat to growl, but Chad brings out even the most mystical things in Lewis. Instead of hiding out in the basement or one of the upstairs bedrooms, the black cat perches himself a top the dining room table. From here, he gets a better vantage point. After all, Chad outweighs Lewis by about 200 pounds. So, any strategic advantage is welcomed.

As Chad enters the room, Lewis greets him with an icy stare. His eyes lock on him like a heat-seeking missile. Chad approaches Lewis and greets him with, "What's up, you worthless piece of shit?!" 

Lewis is not impressed by Chad's blatant display of disrespect. For a brief moment, he thinks about responding with a quick open-pawed swat to teach him some manners. But he stays composed and responds only by locking his stare even tighter. He has learned that there are times to pounce. And this is not the time. 

As Chad and other guests move out to the back yard, Lewis takes a deep breath transitions into a comfortable slumber. He will rest for now....

A little while later, Chad re-enters the house to use the bathroom. After expelling several Bud Light Limes from his system, Chad emerges from the hallway bathroom feeling a bit more courageous. But still, he approaches Lewis very cautiously. Chad slowly moves his right hand under the cat's chin. Instinctively, Lewis raises his left paw and assumes his fighting stance. Chad then makes a sudden move and instantly pays for it. With lightning-quick precision, Lewis opens up Chad's forearm with three razor thin gashes. 

Shouting a slew of profanities, Chad pulls back and clutches his arm. Most sane individuals would just acknowledge defeat and move on. But Chad will have none of that. He reaches back in with his left hand, thinking that he can somehow outsmart the cat. But this too would prove to be futile. Lewis fakes a swipe with his left paw and then sinks his teeth into webbing between Chad's thumb and index finger. As Lewis retracts his teeth, he doubles down and throws a jab with his right paw. He lands cleanly and adds a few more puncture wounds to Chad's already bleeding hand. If Chad had a corner man, he would have thrown in the towel by now. Lewis, knowing that he's fully in charge now, simply releases his grip and shows Chad some mercy. He would rather leave Chad a little battered than permanently maim him. He wants to assure that Chad will keep coming back.

It's like watching one of those old Kimbo Slice videos.....

Feeling equally pissed and beaten, Chad retreats to the kitchen and grabs a wad of paper towels to wrap his injuries. He carefully walks by Lewis on the way out the door. As he passes, he mumbles more profanities under his breath. Lewis looks at him as if to say, "Keep coming back. I'm here all day." 

Chad rejoins the group outside. He loudly announces that Lewis is an asshole. Everyone sees the bloody wrap around his hands. But no one even bats an eye. We've all seen it before. Chad enters the house unscathed, picks a fight with the cat, gets his ass kicked by the cat and then emerges the house with his hands wrapped in paper towels. What's the old saying about doing the same thing over and over and then expecting different results? At some point, you've got to acknowledge that you're overmatched. 

There was a time when Lewis would track down and catch an occasional insect that found it's way into our house. But ever since Chad entered the picture, he doesn't react at all to these things anymore. Instead, he reserves all of his energy for the human pin cushion that he calls Chad.

kw

M3 Festival 2021 - The First Night Back

Yesterday, I ventured down down to Columbia, MD to check out Day 1 of the traditional M3 Rock Festival at Merriweather Post Pavilion. The bands on the bill were The Iron Maidens (an all-female Iron Maiden tribute band), Tokyo Motor Fist (a last minute addition made of musicians from several 80's bands), Slaughter (a successful 90's band) and local legends, Kix.

Celebrating the return of live music is something that I looked forward to. Although I've seen a few local bands at various bars over the past six months, this would be my first venture into a large venue since COVID reared it's ugly head. I felt especially good for the musicians who have pretty much been out of work for the past year and a half.

It's always a tradition to grab dinner and a couple of beers at nearby restaurant prior to any concert. So, in yesterday's case, John (my brother-in-law) and I stopped off at Union Jack's, an English-style pub/restaurant. The food was ok but, most interesting, was that they had Red Stripe beer on tap. Risking a beer faux pas by ordering a Jamaican lager in an English pub, I went for it. It was light and refreshing, the perfect primer for the evening ahead.

As progressed through dinner, John continued to remind me that we had to be in line by a certain time to ensure that we would be in our seats by the time the opening band (The Iron Maidens) took the stage. He's a bit obsessive these days. I kept telling him to relax and assured him that we would make it in plenty of time.

We eventually settled our check and made our way across the street towards the venue. A small line had already formed. As we took our spot in the line, I checked my phone and saw that it was now 5:20. We were then told that the gates would not open until 6:00. I turned to John and said, "Are you f*cking kidding me? We have to stand here for 40 minutes?? I hope you're happy." (We're like Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon in "Grumpy Old Men" sometimes). A short time later, I was delighted to hear that they would be opening the gates at 5:30 instead. 

As we made our way in, we could hear the band going through their sound check. We could hear Kirsten, the lead singer, belting out the familiar vocal bridge to "The Trooper". We had known Kirsten prior to her time with The Iron Maidens, so we were really looking forward to seeing her perform on the big stage.

As the band took the stage and kicked into a familiar Iron Maiden song, that melodic energy that we had been missing for so long rapidly made it's way through the venue. The band was very polished as they played a variety of Maiden songs. I especially enjoyed "The Trooper" as Kirsten introduced the song by waving the British flag and later transitioning to the American flag. A fitting tribute for the July 4th weekend. To sum up their performance, the Iron Maidens were awesome! They re-introduced live music back to Merriweather in stellar fashion.

The next band, Tokyo Motor Fist, was introduced by former "That Metal Show" host, Eddie Trunk. The band, who I was not familiar with, kicked off with a typical "80's rock sounding" song. The band members consisted of guys who had enjoyed moderate success with other 80's bands (Trixter, Danger-Danger, Ted Nugent, Rainbow, Alice Cooper). I did not know any of their original songs but they did a really good cover of Rainbow's "Street of Dreams" with bass player, Greg Smith, doing a respectable job on lead vocals. They also did Trixter's "Give It To Me Good" with original guitarist, Steve Brown, delivering the lead vocals. Overall, the band gave a great performance and I really enjoyed them.

Next up was Slaughter, a band who wrote some really good songs back in the early 90's. Their two most notable tunes are "Up All Night (Sleep All Day)" and the power ballad "Fly To The Angels". I had never seen these guys live before, so I was really looking forward to it. Well, when they launched into their first song, my ear drums nearly exploded! I'm not kidding, they were so loud that I could feel the impact of every drum kick and bass note like an assault of baseball bats against my chest.. I was worried that my heart might be knocked out of rhythm by mid-song. The clarity of the songs was overwhelmed by the enormous volume. You could barely distinguish the guitar solo from the singer's shreiking voice. Yes, I know I'm getting old, but this was ridiculous. It could have been so much better if they could have just turned it down a notch.

Speaking of getting old, I'm guessing that the average age of the crowd was 50-something. And some of them were dressed like they came to the show directly from 1982. Hey, whatever makes you happy. By the way, what's up with the canvas Converse fish-heads that all of these old guys wear? Hey guys, do yourself a favor and throw those stupid looking things away and pick yourself up a nice pair of black leather boots. Way more rock and roll in my opinion.

Sorry, I got a bit off track.....

During the intermission there was an impressive fireworks display in the lawn area. The noise of the exploding projectiles was thunderous! But it paled in comparison to the Slaughter set we had just experienced. 

The finale of the first night always belongs to local boys, Kix. I've seen Kix many times before and they never disappoint. It's a shame that they never made it any bigger back in the day. They had everything that you would ever expect from a great rock band: energetic songs, catchy hooks, infectious guitar riffs and a charismatic front man who literally "moves like Jagger". 

Kix played most of their popular songs and the crowd responded favorably. Kix's last album was titled "Rock Your Face off" and that's exactly what they did throughout the duration of their set. It seems like Kix has been around forever but they perform with the same precision and energy that they did back in the early 80's. They delivered the goods and closed down the night with an exclamation point!

It was really good to get out again to experience a real concert. It's been long overdue. There are two more days of M3 concerts (today and tomorrow). But at my age, one night out is about all I can handle. Until next time....

kw

An Evening In Ellicott City

Through the years, I've always enjoyed spending a Saturday or Sunday afternoon strolling down Main Street in historic Ellicott City. The old buildings and hilly landscape transport me back to a time when things were a little less complicated. Unfortunately, a couple of major floods over recent years have wreaked havoc on small business owners in this historic district. But on my first trip back since the last flood, I was happy to see that business was booming and the streets were crowded with enthusiastic visitors. 

My long-time friend, Mike Young, happened to be playing an outdoor gig with his band (Radio Monkey) near the Little Market Cafe. This was the primary reason for yesterday's visit. But we were able to squeeze in a quick dinner and a little shopping beforehand.

Our first stop was at the Manor Hill Tavern. We made our way to the upstairs bar where I was greeted by a small but interesting chalkboard list of the house beers. It was a bit torturous to me as I had volunteered to be the designated driver for the evening. I figured I could have one decent draft beer with dinner and switch over to soft drinks for the rest of the evening. So, I narrowed my choice down to two brews which were, interestingly enough, named MaryAnn and Ginger. Both were IPA's which is my go-to beer type. But since I've been partial to the Mary-Anns of the world since the early days of Gilligan's Island, I went with that one. 

When it came time to order dinner, I went with the Honey Blue Crab Pizza. It consisted  of Alabama White BBQ, lump crabmeat, Fritos (yes, that's right), corn, blue cheese, and honey habanero. How could I pass this up? When I placed my order with the bartender, I asked if I could get my pizza with no corn. I explained that I'm having a colonoscopy in a few days and my doctor instructed me to avoid seeds, nuts and corn for the days leading up it. She laughed and assured me that it wouldn't be a problem. Yeah, I know, sometimes I surrender way too much information. By the way, the pizza was absolutely delicious! Even without the corn!

After dinner we strolled along Main Street and visited a few of the local shops. One of which was a hat store. Even though my hat collection is pretty much limited to baseball caps, I'm fascinated with all kinds of hats. For instance, cowboy hats have a way of instantly upping the sexiness of any girl next door. Imagine Mary-Ann in a cowboy hat. Ginger who? And how cool does Slash look in that big black top hat while he's playing the intro to "Sweet Child of Mine"? I would love to walk into work one morning wearing that thing. But I don't think that it would have the same effect. Anyway, I left the shop empty handed.

I headed towards the Little Market Cafe with Tina, Toni and John. The area was already buzzing with activity. We were lucky enough to find an empty table near the side of the stage. As we settled into our seats, a guy came walking by with an interesting record album in his right hand. We inquired about it and he told us that it was an obscure John Lennon album that he had bought at one of the local shops. He had a brown paper bag his other hand. He informed us that he also bought a set of Num-Chucks and he slowly pulled them out of the bag. It was a weird segue. We just laughed, and said, "Relax Mr. Miyagi, we're not here to steal your Lennon record." The guy casually slipped the wooden sticks into the bag and quietly walked off into the sunset.

We were joined a short time later by our good friend and old high school buddy, Derrick. We chatted with Mike for a bit before he hit the stage with his Les Paul. Norm, another old high school friend, stopped by to complete the mini-Gibbons Class of '83 reunion.

Everyone's focus turned towards the stage as the band kicked off their first set. They played a variety of popular songs from the 80's and 90's. The tight musicianship of the trio was noticeable. I've known Mike since we were freshmen in high school. Even back then, his ability to navigate around a fretboard was remarkable. He has since grown into one of the most respected guitar players in the area. He was especially impressive of this June evening as he had to battle hoards of flying cicadas. At one point, he had four of the winged creatures clinging to him while he delivered a guitar solo.

The trio delighted us with the Judas Priest version of "Diamonds and Rust". In my opinion, one of the best covered songs ever. Of course, the song always excites us to a point where we feel the need to sing along. As the bridge of the song kicked in, I think we were louder than the band's PA system:

Now I see you standing with brown leaves all around and snow in your hair

Now, we're smiling out the window of this crummy hotel over Washington Square

Our breath come out in white clouds and hangs in the air

Speaking strictly for me, we both could have died then and there....

While it certainly wasn't pretty, it was fun. I was so amped up with musical energy that I tore the lid of my bottle of Deer Park and guzzled it with reckless abandon. (By the way, next time someone else is driving!)

The band closed down the evening with a blistering version of Iron Maiden's "Wrathchild". This was a song that Mike and I grew up listening to and played with our respective bands back in the day. While some of the younger people in the crowd had probably never heard the song, it still forced them to bob their heads. Paraphrasing Derick, "That's the way you close a show!"

As we wound down the evening, we all said our goodbyes. We acknowledged how, no matter how long we go without seeing one another, we can always pick up right where we left off. It was a very nice moment.

Our day in Ellicott City was very enjoyable. We ate good, spent some quality time with long-time friends and heard some great music. Looking forward to doing it again real soon....

kw

WBFF - The First Fifty Years

Once upon a time, before cable TV was available for everyone, many of us had to rely on over-the-air programing to deliver our favorite TV shows. This would often require you to adjust your TV antennae (affectionately known as "rabbit ears") to fine tune your TV screen. Even with all of this additional work, you were still limited to five or six channels. In my hometown of Baltimore, we had the three major network affiliates (ABC, NBC & CBS) and two "UHF" channels which consisted of the Maryland Public Broadcasting channel and the newly introduced WBFF channel. 

WBFF, introduced in 1971, was a welcome addition to our viewing repertoire. As a child, I can remember rushing home from school so I could catch the start of Captain Chesapeake at 3 pm. Captain C, as he was affectionately known, was the host of a variety of shows that ran for the remainder of the afternoon. He would give a brief monologue and then he would transition into an episode of "Rocky & Bullwinkle", "Speed Racer" or another similar kid-friendly cartoons. Captain would make spontaneous appearances during the commercial. And although I was usually alone, I always felt like the captain was with me in an adjacent armchair.

Captain Chesapeake was like Santa Claus in the sense of his mystique to young minds. Did he really live on a house boat in the middle of the Chesapeake? Was his sidekick, Mondy the Sea Monster, real? At some point, kids would start with the "C'mon, you don't really believe all that, do you?" As an honorary "crewmember", it was hard to give into reality.

As the evening progressed, the kid shows would give way to classic sitcoms such as "Gomer Pyle USMC", "Get Smart", "The Munsters", "I Dream of Jeannie" and the beloved "Gilligan's Island". If you happened to drop by a friend's house, it was common to see one of these shows playing on the TV. They were staples of our youth.

On Saturday nights. we would tune into "Ghost Host Theater" which featured old horror movie starring the likes of Vincent Price and other classic horror movie actors. While these movies might be considered lame by today's standards, they were scary and creepy enough to keep a youngster on the edge of his seat back then.

The "BFF" in WBFF is officially stated to mean Baltimore's Forty-Five. However, I have also heard it referred to as Baltimore's Finest Features. Although the former is technically accurate, I believe the latter is more appropriate.

Aside from the classic sitcoms, WBFF also ran some pretty interesting commercials. I can remember the ads for "Ray's Hair Weaves". I don't actually know anyone that bought one of these hair weaves, but Ray always made them sound like a must-have item. 

There were also the Carvel Ice Cream commercials, featuring "Fudgy the Whale". The announcer's voice was unique, sounding like he was talking through a muffled bullhorn.

I can also remember the commercials for the plastic slip-covers for your furniture. In the commercial, kids would be jumping up and down on a couch when a thunderous voice would startle them with, "Hey, you kids! Get off of that couch! What are ya trying to do, ruin it?!" And I can actually remember people buying these covers. Although they would certainly protect the fabric from a splash of red wine, they made the couch or chair extremely uncomfortable. You would sit on these things in the summer time and then have the joy of peeling your bare arms and legs from the plastic as you got up. 

WBFF also had their own local newscasters. The one that sticks out in my mind is a guy named Ernie Boston. He had this deep "Rodney Dangerfield" type voice and an all-business delivery. My good friend, Mark, used to do an awesome impression of Mr. Boston.

WBFF just celebrated it's 50th anniversary in my hometown of Baltimore. Although the programming has changed quite a bit from my childhood days, the station is still on the air and doing fine. I thank them for the memories and wish them many years of continued success for the future.

kw

RIP Hammerin' Hank

 It was a Monday night back in 1974, April 8th to be exact. I can't quite remember why, but I was over my grandmother's house. As an eight-year-old, my appetite for baseball was just getting started. The Monday Night Baseball game was just getting ready to begin. I adjusted the rabbit ears on my grandmother's old 19-inch TV screen to sharpen the picture. 

I then made a quick run to the kitchen to retrieve a can of 7-Up* and a half-empty bag of Bugles. I returned to the small living room and got as comfortable as I possibly could on the plastic-covered sofa. My focus was now on the small television where the Atlanta Braves were about to take on the Los Angeles Dodgers. Of course, this was no regular game. You see, Hank Aaron currently had 714 homeruns under his belt. One more long ball would move him past Babe Ruth as the all-time HR leader. 

My grandmother couldn't quite understand why I was so antsy. I tried to explain the situation to her. But she still didn't seem to take a whole lot of interest. In her defense, she wasn't much of a sports fan. Her athletes of choice were the polka dancers on the Lawrence Welk Show. 

Anyway, the game eventually started. Even though I was watching the game from a rowhouse in Baltimore, I could feel the excitement in the Atlanta air. The first few innings went by without much ado. Aaron walked his first time at bat. But then, in the 4th inning, it happened.....

Hank laid the sweet spot of his bat on a high Al Downing fastball and drove it deep into left-center field. Bill Buckner, the Dodger left-fielder at the time, gave it a valiant effort. But he could not bring it back. The ball landed on the other side of the fence (and into the glove of Braves' reliver Tom House). And just like that, Hank Aaron was the new homerun king.

I instinctively jumped off of the couch and called for my grandmother, "Nana! Nana! Come here quick!"

I desperately wanted someone else to experience this moment with me. She quickly appeared from the front room of the house with a concerned look on her face. She probably figured I was choking on one of the Bugles. She asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. He did it, Nana! He did it!"

Of course, my grandmother didn't share my excitement. Again, I tried to explain the significance of what had just happened. She just shook her head and said, "As long as it makes you happy, That's all that matters." 

I was so excited that I didn't sleep too much that night. I think this where my interest in baseball really kicked into high gear. I would later attend high school at Cardinal Gibbons which was the original St. Mary's Industrial School where Babe Ruth's baseball career was born. I often wondered if the Babe's spirit would haunt me for rooting for Hank Aaron to break his record. Since there were no hauntings to report, I believe the Babe was OK with it.

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Although I had to confirm the actual date and day of the week, I really do remember this event like it was yesterday. Hank Aaron went on to become one of my favorite and most respected players. The guy was everything that you'd ever want out of a great ball player. 

Henry Aaron was signed by the Milwaukee Braves. But he came very close to signing with the San Francisco Giants. The main reason that he went with the Braves is because they offered him $50 more per month. Think about that for a minute. $50 a month was the difference of Henry Aaron and Willie Mays playing in the same outfield.

Facing many obstacles, Hank towered above them all. He became a role model of hard work, focus and dedication. He would eventually gain the respect and admiration of baseball fans everywhere. He was a class act, on and off the field.

Henry Aaron finished his career with 755 homeruns, 2297 RBI's (still the all-time record), 3771 hits and a lifetime batting average of .305. He also won three Gold Gloves for his defensive play. He went into the Hall of Fame in his first year of eligibility in 1982 with 97% of the vote (who could have possibly voted against him??)

Years ago, I remember watching a documentary about Aaron's legacy. Hank's wife made a comment that summed him up for me...."Henry was a great baseball player. But he was a better father." 

What more can you say? That is perhaps the greatest compliment that can be given to a man. May the Hammer rest in peace. One of the greatest men ever to grace a baseball field.

kw

* For some reason, the only soft drink that my Nana ever had in her Fridge was 7-up. I don't ever recall a single Coke or Pepsi.

Remembering Virginia

My earliest memories of Virginia take me all the way back to my childhood. Virginia was my mom’s cousin, and they were very close. We would get together regularly at summer cookouts and holiday dinners.

In those early years, I must admit, I was quite intimidated by Virginia. She was so intelligent and always seemed so sophisticated. And I was just an uncultured kid trying to find my way. But Virginia always took the time to talk with me. She would offer advice and encouragement and always left me with a positive vibe.

I can remember gathering at her Locust Point home every Christmas. With our family growing bigger, we would sometimes have to squeeze into the furniture like packed can of sardines. The stairs to the second floor often doubled as overflow seating.

Everyone would engage in random conversations until Virginia eventually rang the dinner bell. At that point, we would all line up to retrieve our feast from the back kitchen. Virginia was a great cook, and her Christmas dinners were always something special.

Virginia’s husband, Ken, could not always be there as he was a paramedic and was often requited to work holidays. But I really enjoyed those times when he was there. He was a big man with a very deep voice, but he was as gentle as a Teddy Bear. The playful banter between he and Virginia was always fun to watch. They made the perfect couple. Another thing that I remember is that Virginia never referred to him as Ken or Kenny. It was always Kenneth. He was a good man and unfortunately left us way too soon.

Virginia also had a dog that she adored. He was a Samoyed and he looked like a huge, white fluffy dandelion. He simply went by the name of Teddy and not Theodore as you might expect.

As the years went on, Virginia and I became very close. We would meet up regularly every Tuesday at my parent’s house for family dinner night. There, we would catch up on current events and try to solve all the problems of the world. But at precisely 7 o’clock, we would turn our attention to the TV and watch Jeopardy. It came as no surprise that Virginia knew most of the answers. She was so smart.

About 10 years ago, I invited her out to join my trivia team on Wednesday nights. She enjoyed it so much that she wound up playing with us almost every week. She was a welcome addition to our group. She was not only very intelligent, but she was also a lot of fun. She instantly bonded with all my friends and everyone looked forward to seeing her each week.

Our trivia host and good friend, Ray, affectionately referred to her as “Aunt V”.

Virginia could also be very competitive. If another team happened to beat us, there could only be one possible reason: They cheated. 

There was this one team that used to sit in the far back corner of the room. And they would occasionally beat us. Virginia was sure that they were cheating. So, I tried to convince her that they were very smart, and they probably beat us fair and square. To this, Virginia quickly replied, “Bullshit. Let them come out of that corner and play in front of God and country. And then we’ll see how smart they really are!”

Virginia and I would often discuss personal issues that either of us might be going through at the time. I would lay out my whole dilemma and then I would wait to get her feedback. Her initial response was always the same. She would look at you for a moment and then, in a Tony Soprano-like way, she would ask, “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

I would reply, “I don’t really know. I was hoping to get some advice from you.”

She would respond back with, “Hmm…” 

And then after taking a moment to process it, she would say, “Well, here’s what I would do…”

And no matter the situation, her advice was always solid. At times, she could be brutally honest. But that’s one of the things I loved about her. She didn’t candy coat anything. She just told you the way it was.

Oddly, for as sophisticated as Virginia was, she would occasionally let out a loud belch. I asked her about it one time and she explained that it’s a compliment to the chef. It means that you enjoyed the food. I remember the first time she did this around my trivia team. Feeling the need to address the surprised look on everyone’s faces, I whispered, “She likes the food.”

She was also very outspoken on politics. We had many long conversations across the political spectrum. Sometimes, when a major news story broke, Virginia would call me. I would pick up the phone and answer with the standard “Hello”. Well, Virginia would skip the traditional salutation and immediately hit me with, “So, what do you think of this bullshit?”

From there, we would talk into the late hours of the evening. She was so in tune with everything that was going on. I always came out the conversation learning something new.

During the football season, we would often gather at my house on Sundays to watch the Ravens. Virginia would show up in her purple jersey and with a big bottle of Pinot Grigio. While the rest of us were knocking back beers, she would casually sip on her glass of white wine. Like I mentioned before, she was always a little more sophisticated than the rest of us. When the game was over and party wound down, Virginia was usually one of the last people to leave.

Whenever we planned a party, Virginia would always ask if she could bring something. Knowing that she made an awesome Key Lime Pie, I would often ask her to make one. I remember one time she told me that told me that she was having a really hard time finding any Key Limes. So, I said, “Just use a regular lime. What difference does it make?”

She quickly pointed out that, while you might put a “regular” lime in a bottle of Corona, you never put one in a real Key Lime Pie. So, not willing to compromise the integrity of her Key Lime Pie, she made a coconut cream pie instead. And like everything else she made; it was delicious. But I didn’t dare ask if she used regular coconuts.

Although Virginia was extremely intelligent, she struggled a bit when it came to modern technology. I talked her into buying a laptop computer several years ago. I helped her set it up and gave her a brief overview of how it all worked. But it wasn’t long before I would start receiving weekly phone calls about her latest computer issue. I became her own personal Geek Squad. I would fix one thing and then a day or two later, I’d get a phone call about another issue. I would explain that these were all minor problems and I suggested that she use Google to find out how to fix it herself. She thought about it for a few seconds and said, “Nah, I’ll just call you.”

Virginia was quite the reader too. As her collection of books continued to grow, her house began to resemble a small library. She never parted with any of them. And, for some reason, she always signed the first page of each book. Whenever she found one to be especially good, she would recommend it to me. Years ago, she turned me on to John Grisham. I think I’ve read everyone of his books since. She also really like Tom Clancy. If you’re not familiar with his books, they are quite thick. It would take me six months to get through one of his stories. But Virginia could breeze through it in a few days.

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From early on, Virginia was a person who could light up a room by simply walking into it. She had movie-star good looks and a personality to match. She would always greet you with a warm smile and initiate the conversation by asking, “So, what’s new?”

I will miss our long conversations, but I am so grateful for every word that we exchanged.

My world will, no doubt, be a little colder without her in it. But her colorful memories will always warm my heart.

Virginia, I will never forget you. You were one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. You encouraged me and gave me confidence. You brought me humor and joy. But most importantly, you inspired me to become a better person. 

I will end this by simply saying, “Thank you”.

 

kw

Remembering Evelyn

I was first introduced to Evelyn as a teenager. My best friend at the time happened to be her nephew. And we would sometimes drop by her house for a spontaneous visit. Evelyn was always very welcoming, and I always enjoyed our visits. Tina revealed to me recently that her mom had once said to her, "I really like Ken. I would love to see you guys get together." Well, it didn't happen immediately. But we did eventually get together. 

When Tina and I got married, Evelyn welcomed me into the family and treated me like her own son. She was a wonderful person, and we would go on to have many years of good times and fond memories. I'd like to share some of those memories with you today... 

It's no secret that Evelyn liked to shop. When she worked at BJ's Wholesale Club years ago, she would always make a predictable run through the store after each shift. I'm convinced that she spent more money than she made there each week. The trunk of her Toyota Camry was always loaded up with an over-abundance of merchandise. She would justify it by telling how little she paid for everything. And immediately after giving you the lowdown on the price, she would always follow up with, “And that’s cheap!”

 I remember a time when Tina and I took Evelyn to Ocean City for a few days. Tina had warned me that, one of those days, we would have to take her mom shopping at the outlets in nearby Rehoboth Beach. I tried my best to get out of it. But Tina wasn't having any parts of it. She said, "Hey, if I'm getting roped into it, so are you!" 

So. off we went to the outlets. As we made our way into Delaware, I started to think, "Ah, this might not be so bad. I mean, how long can someone really spend shopping?" Boy, was I about to find out!

Evelyn spent the next few hours looking through every shelf in every store. It was almost like she was taking inventory. After she accumulated a few bags, she would hand them to me, and I would run them out to the car. And then she would go into a new store to start the process all over. I whispered to Tina, "What the hell is she buying? 

Tina rolled her eyes and said, "Everything!"

I felt instant relief when Evelyn finally came out of the last store. She smiled at me and asked, "Are you having a good time?" 

I did what any good son-in-law would do in this situation: I lied. I said, "Oh, yeah. This really wasn't so bad". 

But to my horror, she followed up with, "Good. How about we stop and get some lunch before we hit the next outlet?"

My jaw dropped. "There's a next outlet?", I reluctantly asked.

"Yes, right over there", she replied as she pointed to shopping center on the other side of the highway. 

So, we ate lunch and then proceeded into round two of the shopping excursion. Conveniently, my Honda Accord had a limited amount of storage space. We finally reached a point where the trunk was completely full, so we started to pack bags into the back seat. I eventually had to break the news to Evelyn that we were pretty much at full capacity. I reminded her that we still had to save room for our luggage on our trip home. She replied, "Oh, we can ship our luggage back home. It's no big deal."

Fortunately, I wasn't required to go on too many of these shopping sprees. That duty went to Evelyn's beloved sister, Freddie. The two of them would meet up for lunch at least once a week and then wreak havoc on the local shopping centers.

Ok, moving on...

Years ago, I used to really like A&W Diet Cream Soda. Well, when Evelyn found out about it, she bought a few 12-packs and stocked her entire refrigerator with it. She was very thoughtful in that way. Well, one day I'm sitting at the kitchen counter when Karl (my father-in-law) goes to the refrigerator to get a drink. He was hoping for a traditional Pepsi. But all he sees are these Diet Cream Sodas. He holds up a can and asks, ""Hey Evelyn, what the hell is this?"

 She instantly snapped, "Oh, put that back, Karl. Those are for Ken."

Karl shoots me a dirty look and mumbled to himself. I just giggled and said, "Relax, Karl. If you want one, help yourself. Really, I don't mind." 

Of course, this only made him more upset and he said, "Can you at least tell her that you like regular Pepsi or Coors Light? Then maybe I'll be able to find something that I like in here next time."

I wound up drinking so much of that Diet Cream Soda that I eventually got sick of it. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but I had to tell Evelyn to stop buying it.

And then, short time later, I went on one of these high protein diets. One day, Evelyn sees me eating a can of sardines. Well, you can guess what happened next…

 Evelyn was also a very good cook. I can remember gathering over her house for Sunday dinner. She would make enough food to serve an army. But it was always delicious. She made these spareribs that were out of this world. She would also make these spicy Italian sausages every Christmas. With beads of sweat rolling across my forehead, I would devour these things like a hungry lion. I knew I would pay for it later, but I really didn't care. They were that good.

 Evelyn and I could talk about practically anything, including politics and religion. I can remember having many spirited debates with her through the years. The funny thing was that we would sometimes be 180 degrees apart on a particular subject. We would spend a half hour going back and forth. And then at some point, for some unknown reason, she would take my side of the argument. I would say, "Evelyn, that's what I'm saying."

 She would respond, "Exactly." It would drive me nuts.

 A few years ago, a bunch of us were planning on going to the local Greene Turtle to celebrate my birthday. Knowing that we would be consuming some adult refreshments, Evelyn offered to drive. And that ride was quite adventurous….

 On the drive out of the neighborhood, she hit every speed bump with reckless abandon. The first one was especially painful because I didn’t see it coming. My head bounced off the ceiling and I landed back in the seat with a loud thud. I regained consciousness just in time to prepare for the next one. I guess she thought that you were supposed to speed over speed bumps, I don’t know. By the time we got to the restaurant, I felt like I just went ten rounds with Mike Tyson.

 Well, the night went on and we did indeed celebrate. The alcohol did an adequate job of numbing our battle wounds from the ride in. And we slowly transitioned into a state of drunken obnoxious. And then, unexpectedly, a Karaoke DJ started setting up his equipment. At some point, I found myself with the microphone in my hand, trying to sing "Thank God I'm a Country Boy". It must have been brutal to anyone within earshot. Feeling somewhat embarrassed afterward, I said, "Evelyn, you don't have to wait around for us. We can take an Uber home. I feel bad putting you through this torture."

 She laughed and said, "No, I don't mind staying at all. I haven't had this much fun in years."

I tried to talk her into doing a karaoke version of "All the Single Ladies”, but she wouldn't bite.

Evelyn had been a tough and resilient person throughout her whole life. When things needed to be handled, she took action. When the family's house burned down years ago, Evelyn didn't sit back and feel sorry for herself. She took a job working in the meat department of a local grocery store and continued to work until she retired from BJ's years later. Working in those refrigerated rooms wasn't easy, especially as she got older. But she did it anyway and never complained.

 When Evelyn finally retired, things didn't really get any easier for her. Karl's health had real taken a downturn and Evelyn became his full-time caregiver. She did all of this while fighting her own bout with cancer. I always admired her dedication and loyalty during those trying times. She was a strong woman who I respected and loved.

 Evelyn will finally get some well-deserved rest. And Karl will be reunited with his "Ebby".

Evelyn, if you can hear me up there, please buy Karl a can of regular Pepsi and tell him that it's from me. I miss you both and I will never forget you.

kw