Sorry Lucky...I missed it!

    There should have been  a birthday party several weeks ago. Nothing big. No cake or ice cream. A couple of bones and a new toy. It was Lucky's third birthday.

   For those who follow our family, you will remember that several years ago  we decided that after a few  years without, we would get a dog, this time a puppy. After careful research and with allergies to pet fur, we opted for a standard poodle. They were said to be smart, easy to train and were pretty much hypo-allergenic because, instead of fur, they have hair. 
   Little did I understand who would require the training.

  When we brought him home from the kennel, he weighed about eight pounds. He was a cute little ball of black curly hair and big black eyes that would melt the heart of almost anyone. It was a thirty minute ride and we had anticipated tears and crying, for after all, he was leaving his mother and father, brothers and sisters. But we didn't cry, nor did he   and he enjoyed the trip to his new home.

   We were warned that the first few nights could be difficult and were prepared with all the recommended tools to make the adjustment as stress free as possible. There was a soft blanket, a warm water bottle  and an old shirt that he had been sleeping with while at the kennel for several weeks. Come to find out, those items were really for us. The first night he slept just fine and has done so ever since. Maybe he was happy to get away from those pesty siblings!

   With what seemed like a few short months, he put on some weight, grew longer, taller and so much stronger. By Thanksgiving of that year, he began to look, not like the cute little puppy he had been, but a mature and strikingly handsome young adult dog.

   The first trip to the groomer was like taking a child to the barber for the first time. Our previous experience with dogs did not involve regular hair cuts, but with Lucky it was going to be different. Nervous? He was fine. We weren't so sure. But he really liked the bath part. After all, poodles are water dogs. Right? At home he freely jumps into the bath tub, waiting patiently for someone to turn on the water.
   And now, at age three, he enjoys his trips to Danielle, his groomer, except when the hair is removal from the ears. (That would bother me too.)

   Poodles are very smart and we have found that to be true. Training has been a challenge, not for him, but for us. He has trained us well!  We have been part of a training program  that rewards with treats and  have met with great success. He loves to eat. Sit, drop, heel, front, are all part of his current vocabulary. Stay...For sure. 'Leave it' is also a success. He does  well and I am sure there are a number of other words he knows. His favorite word? Treat! The classes are going  well for both him and for us. Thanks Stephanie! 
   At three, he is very strong and his current weight is nearly eighty pounds, a long way from the eight pounds when we brought him home.

   From the beginning, he  enjoyed riding in the car and is quite eager to go anywhere we are willing to take him. "Car!!" and he runs to the door. Generally he either sleeps or looks out the back window, but he does like the ride.
   One of his favorite trips is to the dump.... sorry, the transfer station. He knows the route well and if I deviate at all, he becomes quite confused.

   Having a dog  has been a 'life'  refresher course for us. It is  hard not have a smile on your face when you to look into his big black eyes, talk to him  and watch as his head tilts from side to side as if he understands every word being said. .

   So to the 'Luckster", I am really sorry  we forgot your special day. Happy birthday guy!  :)

You can't get there from here...or can you?

    Over the past several weeks I have had occasion to travel out of state. It was into territory not that unfamiliar to me although it has been years since I visited the area. The trip to New York City was pretty simple. If I knew how to count and could find 5^th Avenue, I was in pretty good shape. But traveling the countryside in eastern Pennsylvania was going to be more of a challenge. I needed to do some homework.

   As a young lad, I hung out at a local gas station and one of my jobs on a weekly basis was to stock the racks that held the maps. Remember maps? They were the colorful, multi-folded pieces of paper that diagrammed the various streets and highway in a particular region. But like going the way of the dinosaur, paper maps are almost a thing of the past, replaced by modern technology and instant access.

   One of the things I liked about a map was that you could look at a large area and get a better understanding of where places were in relationship to each other. You could run you finger along Route 46 and get a sense of where you were and where you were going.

   Surely tucked away somewhere in the deep recesses of the car must be a map or two and with luck, it would be exactly what I needed. I was not surprised to find a map of Pennsylvania stashed away the glove compartment of the car since the car had belonged to my parents and they had lived in the Pennsylvania for a number of years..

   I unfolded the map and found the side with the Philadelphia area. What caught my eye as I scanned the map was the date in the lower corner. 1994. How much could things change in  twenty years? Let me tell you, there can be a number of changes.
    I am not sure why, but men seem to have a difficult time asking for directions. Even with our keen sense of direction, sometimes we get pointed  the wrong way and within minutes it is possible to be facing a sign that says “Dead End”.

   “Why didn't you stop at the gas station a few miles back to ask for directions?”

   “Because....men don't ask for directions!”

   Like many others, I have replaced the use of a map with something called a GPS, Global Positioning System. At any point and time, you know exactly where you are on the planet and it can help you find your way to where you want to be.  I  admit that the device has come in handy on occasion. It can give you the most direct route in time, the route that has the fewest number of miles or maybe even the route with the most fast food restaurants.

   Knowing that I might be in some unfamiliar territory in PA and not having a great amount of extra time to spend getting directions, I packed my GPS in my suitcase, assuming that the pilot of the plane had his own GPS in the cockpit and would not be needing to use mine.

   The trip was fairly uneventful and the GPS helped me navigate my way to the various stops I had to make with only one or two misdirections.

   I don't use a map or a GPS system much when I'm home. Part of the adventure to living in Maine is sometimes getting lost and ending up exploring a whole new area and often the map in the GPS does not show the road I may be traveling. For example, it does not show the Horseback Road, a road leading out of town where I live. It shows only the symbol of a car stranded in the middle of a patch of green.

   Several weeks ago I decided to do a bit of exploring and headed out with no map and the GPS safely locked away in the trunk. It didn't take long for me to realize that I needed some help. This was somewhat new territory for me. I know where I wanted to be, but I had reached the end of a dirt road. I turned around and made a stop at the nearest country store and, yes.... went in to ask directions.

 “Can you tell me how to get to......” I asked?

 "Sonny, you can't get there from here,” was his reply.

   Somewhat puzzled, I returned to the car, popped open the trunk, plugged in my trusty GPS and typed in the address. It loaded the maps but the message on the screen was quite clear. I couldn't get there from here! I would have to turn around and start over. 
   The wisdom of the gentleman in the store may have been right. Sometimes you just may not be able to get where you want to go from where you are. Sounds like one of 'life's little lesson' to me. Wouldn't you agree?

Abducted by aliens..

           A few weeks ago I was abducted by aliens, taken aboard a space ship and whisked away to the outer limits of the solar system. The ride was actually rather smooth and very fast. But when one travels faster than the speed of light, what else is there to expect. 
          The spaceship made a sharp turn and with a sudden jolt came to a stop, sending me sprawling to the floor. There I was, on the floor of a space ship.. in outer space.
          As if by magic, I was picked up off the floor, put into a chair and placed under a series of bright interrogations lights. All I could see in front of me were sets of glowing bright green eye, thousands of them. The heat from the lights caused me to break out in a sweat. I remember once being told, “Never let them see you sweat!” But the lights were really hot and I was sweating.
          There was a quiet buzz around the room. It did not sound like talking, but I was sure it was some form of telepathic communication going on among the 'beings' in the room. 
          As quickly as the buzz began, it was now silence. A pale yellow light moved directly in front of me. From deep within the light came a  voice, a voice one might expect to hear from someone like Tom Brokaw.
          “Do you know why you are here,” the voice asked?
          I didn't have a clue, but I thought I would play along for a minute or two. Sometimes my curiosity gets in the way.
          “Of course. You need a quick-witted, intelligent human from the planet earth to study in order to strengthen and enrich your new society and I am just the person.”
          There was a roar of laughter. The voice cleared its throat and the laughter stopped.
          “Well, maybe that's what you think. But that’s not the reason. I am going to ask you two questions and the answers you give will determine whether you return to earth.”
          There was a sudden seriousness to the voice and I began to think that this was real. How difficult could two questions be. I'm a pretty smart guy, but just in case, i wondered if I had a lifeline, someone I could call? But I surmised I was now on my own.
          “Question one. Name three people upon whose life  you have had a significant influence.”
          I began to think about all the people I had come into contact throughout my life; kids, parents of kids, clients, colleagues, friends, enemies, the people in the grocery stores.  The more I thought the more difficult it became because I really didn't know if I had had any influence or not. I wanted to believe that I had, but.... I guess I really wasn't sure.
         "Could we move on to question 2"
         “Question two. Name one event in you life  that, if given the opportunity, you would do over.”
          That was easy! There were many things I would do over. Wait a minute. This was a trick question. Life does not allow ‘do-overs’. Life is an on-going process and while we do not get the opportunity for ‘do-over’, we do get the opportunity to learn from our mistakes and move on.
           There was sudden silence.
          As quickly as I had been whisked away into outer space, it was now dark. The only light and  sound was  coming from my television.What had just happened? 
          I know I hadn't been abducted by aliens. I had  fallen asleep while watching television. But the two questions in my dream were stuck in my head. Who, if anyone, had I influenced and had that influence been positive or negative? What roll, if any, had I played in making someone's life just a little bit better, a paying it forward type moment? And is that something we ever know or should we?
           Question 2 was equally as difficult to answer. There were many things I would "do over" if given the opportunity, but the  circumstances of the time made the outcome what it was. Similar circumstance might lead to similar results. It would only be  the future that would tell  if I really learned from my  mistakes?.
            I fall asleep often  watching television. What I had not expected was to be 'abducted' by my thoughts, forcing me to reflect upon the quality and purpose of  my life. Had this little experience been some kind of test?

Mother Nature's little teases...

   We wait and we wait and we wait. The winter snow is falling at the rate of an inch an hour and already there is six inches on the ground. We continue to ask ourselves if summer will ever come. We know it will. It's just a rhetorical question.

   But in the middle of all the winter snow and ice...every once and a while Mother Nature managers to sneak in one of those surprisingly “un-winter- like” days, bright sun, milder temperatures and a smell unique to that of Springtime.

  Soon the remains of winter are gone, the Spring chores are done, the garden is planted and summertime has arrived. Warm days and sometimes cool nights are the reminders of why we live here in Maine and the Northeast. It's trips to the beach, walks in the woods, and barbecues with friends and family.

  Its often vacation time from work, projects around the house that can't be done during the winter months (or you just don't want to do them at that time), and you just have that “kick back and relax” attitude. I really love this place!

   It seemed like it took summer a bit longer to get here this year. We had a very rainy Spring and those rains have continued into the early weeks of July.

   For those of you who know my back yard, it is lush with green and still has not dried out from all the rain. Just a day or two away from being able to walk through the yard without getting your shoes wet and we have several days of hard rain and the process starts all over again.

   I have great looking tomato plants, some almost as tall as I am, except for one thing. While the plants look great, there are very few tomato blossoms. And what happened to the blueberries this year? The plants look good too, just no berries.

When it hasn't been raining, it has been very warm, I mean, very warm for us. Most unusual. There have been days well into the ninety degree range and while it is not unusual for that to occur for a day or two, we have had some pretty warm weeks. Warmth is good, but the humidity...well that's a different story. No wonder the plants are tall with a jungle look.

   I had been on the road for much of the day on Wednesday, visiting clients and setting appointments. Within a few short minutes, the blue sky clouded over and the rain..well... the rain came down as one might expect in a tropical downpour and within minutes the roads were covered with inches of water and the windshield wipers could not work fast enough.

   Then, something very unusual happened. With the exception of one huge logging truck, everyone pull off to the side of the road to wait for the storm to pass. It was raining that hard! Who said Maine people aren't safety minded?

   As quickly as the skies had clouded in, the sun returned and the traffic began to move. There were a few more showers before I got home, but nothing like he ones that had occurred earlier.

   As mid-afternoon transitioned into early evening, the sky remained crystal clear blue and a bit of a breeze began to pick up from the northwest. All of a sudden, as I sat in the chair in the back yard enjoying a cool drink, there was that feeling of Fall in the air. I think you know what I mean; the temperature, the breeze and the 'smell'. I know it's still July and there is a great deal of summer still remaining, but I think it was one of Mother Nature's little 'teases' reminding us of what is to come.
    My goodness it's chilly. Now what did I do with that fleece jacket?

Crossroad to the world...

   It's just about 4:30 pm on a very warm Friday afternoon in New York City. I am sitting in a restaurant at the corner of 34^th St and 5th Avenue, my chair turned so I can look out the window. I am waiting to meet with my field supervisor to review the successes and failures of my trip to the city this week. It had been a quick and unexpected trip to New York and my major responsibilities were to do some follow-up and some fence mending.

   The supervisor was running a bit late so I had some extra time and took full advantage of one of America's favorite pastimes...'people watching', and with the huge crowds on the sidewalk and heavy auto traffic, there was plenty to 'watch'.

   It had been a number of years since I spent this much time in the heart of the city. Aside from a few quick car trips across the George Washington Bridge on my way to someplace else, I had not really visited Manhattan for many years and had forgotten what New York was all about. But a few minutes of looking out the window brought it all back. The city is about people.

   This particular Friday is right in the middle of July. Mixed among the business attired men and women moving about the city were hoards of vacationers. It was somewhat reassuring to know that some people still dress a bit more formally in shirts, ties and dresses to go to work, even in the heat of summer.

   But the tourists were easy ones to spot too: shorts, sneakers, tee shirts, cameras and cell phones. Almost everyone was carrying a cell phone and most were actively talking on them. One other easy way to identify the tourist? Most were gazing upward at the tall buildings and skyscrapers. Right within this block,,, the Empire State building... and everyone seemed to be trying to get a picture of it

   OMG! “Watch out!” Someone just stepped off the curb, against the crosswalk sign and into the path of a speeding taxi. You have to be careful and watch where you walk.

   The number of people amazed me. I remember New York as a busy place, but not like this. My guess? In about a five minute period of time, I think more people passed the window than live in the entire town of Pittsfield.

   It is fun to watch them move along, stopping and starting as the traffic lights change and, as they waited for the light to change, they were either pointing to some distant building or taking a picture of themselves to post somewhere, proof to their friends that they really were in New York City.

   At the corner, buses and cabs stopped, discharged passengers and took on new ones. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry. That was one thing that had not changed over the years. In fact, I would guess that people were in more of a rush today, after all, it was a Friday.

   I like the double-decker buses What a great way to get a view of the city and even the brief shower didn't detract from the fun people seemed to be having.

   The restaurant, with tables filling up fast now, sounded much like what you might expect to hear at the United Nations building. English was not the most predominant language being spoken. Conversation could be heard in French, German, Italian, Chinese and just about everything in between and while it was a bit early for dinner, I suspected that many came in to get out of the heat. First item to be ordered? Something cold to drink.

   My supervisor still had not arrived, so I moved from a table to the bar to give a family with young children “from away” a place to sit. At the bar I met a couple from Scotland and we struck up a brief conversation about places to see and things to do while in New York, (Like I am an expert!!) But it was the first time they had been in NYC and I was able to make a few suggestions. Their goal was to get to the 'Today Show' at Rockefeller Plaza. I told them I would watch the show in the morning to see if they made it.

   Greg arrived and we spent the first half hour talking business. Soon we were both engaged in looking out the windows at the passing crowds which appeared to have grown larger as the cooler evening air began to settle in. Remember, 'cool' is a relative term.

   “It's like the crossroad to the world out there” he said. “People from all over the world, mingling together as if everyone world-wide was able to get along, regardless of what country they were from”

   The 5^th Avenue and 34^th Street that I remember have had a storied history, whether it be hosting parades or being featured in the movies...as if 'miracles 'really happen! Maybe the streets had been known for the tall skyscrapers or being home to some pretty famous people. The city, regardless of where you are standing at any given moment though, is still all about people, even on warm July days.

   It was a good week, even with the high temperatures and the hustling crowds.... but I'll admit it. It was good to get home to the peace and quiet of the country!

That was then and this is now...

    
   Saturday dawned bright and sunny and it was a great day to do some sight-seeing. We got into the car and headed for the airport in Newark. Finding a place to park was easy and it was just a short walk to the terminal. We went up to the counter, purchased some tickets and in a few minutes we were taxiing down the runway and off to Boston for the day.

   Back in those days, Eastern Airlines ran a number of shuttle planes between Newark to Boston and it was easy to get a flight to Logan and the schedule made it possible to leave in the morning and be home by 7:00pm. The flight, if my memory serves me, was about an hour. The pilot would fire up the engines, the speed of the propellers shaking the plane wildly, but within minutes, the Newark and New York skyline was replaces with a view of Cape Cod on the right and Boston Harbor on the left.

   It was a quick bus ride from the airport to the down town. The city had a different look, a different feel and the history of early America seemed to come alive just by walking the streets. After about an hour or so, it was a stop for lunch at what is still one of my favorite restaurant in Boston, Durgin Park, located in the middle of what was once the slaughter house district of the city.

   After lunch, the walking and history lesson would continue, including a stop at the North Church, Feneuil Hall and anything in between. Then it was an ice cream cone and  a return to the airport to catch the 5pm shuttle back to Jersey.

   Within an hour you could see, on the right side of the plane the New York skyscrapers, their silhouettes cutting into the early evening dusk and by 7 we were back home and almost ready for bed. It had been a great day.

   Today I was returning home from New York and knew it would be crowded at the airport so I decided to get to there at least three hours before the scheduled departure. I was glad I did.

   I stood in line for over an hour, just waiting to get my ticket and 'clear security'. Hidden behind walls of luggage carts, piled high with every type of suitcase imaginable, the line to the ticket counter moved slowly. Children became restless and adults even more annoyed.

   At the ticket counter I was asked for some form of identification, either a passport or driver's license. Why, I thought. I knew who I was, but I checked my luggage, received my ticket and proceeded to the security screening area.

   The lines at the security screening were almost as long as they were at the ticket counter. It's... your computer out of its case and into a separate plastic bin, off with the sport coat and shoes, everything out of your pockets and something I always forget. “Please remove your belt, sir.” What I wanted to ask was....”What would happen if my pants fell down?” But most TSA agents have a very limited sense of humor and the line behind me was getting longer and longer, so I decided to pass on the remark.

   Into the glass tube, feet on the yellow footprints on the floor, hands above your head and...”step over here , sir!” This happens to me almost every time. It must be the handkerchief I forget to take out of my pocket.

   It takes about 4 minutes or so to get dressed, pack up the computer and get to the waiting area and find the nearest snack bar to get a cup of coffee.

   From getting in line to purchase the ticket and check my baggage to taking the first sip of coffee... one hour and twenty minutes. I was glad I got the airport a bit early, for now I only had to wait less than an hour to board the plane.

   A brief and very quiet announcement caught my attention, though. I walked up to the counter at the gate and, yes, for a mere ten dollars I could upgrade my seat to one in the first row, by the window and board as a priority customer. What was really special was the extra leg room along with a slightly larger seat, and only for ten dollar? You bet I'll take that one.

   Before long, we were taxiing down the runway and touchdown in Maine was less than 50 minutes later. As we lifted off, to the left was the skyline of the New York- metropolitan area and to the right, New York Harbor.

   Plane travel has changed a great deal in the last 45 years. What was a simple and carefree way to spend a Saturday in July, learning about our nation's history...'that was then.' The often tedious and frustrating challenges of air travel this July....'this is now.'

Fenway Faithful

   I like baseball. Of the major professional sports, baseball is the game  I will watch  if I have nothing  to do or.just want to relax for a few minutes. I do not like to watch professional basketball. To me it is over rated and the players are paid too much money for a game that should be played in some one's backyard  with a peach basket tack up over the garage door.
   Professional football can be exciting to watch as long as no one gets hurt. A sport where  over-sized,  grown men, put on padding and protective equipment so they can run into each other doesn't speak a great deal to smartness and intelligence, but then, it's for the 'entertainment' of it. (What's this about this Hernandez fellow? Do they carry guns too?)
   Over the years I have grown to 'appreciate' and  'love' the Red Sox. Many  have written about the team's storied history, the  famous and not so famous players, the famous and not so famous plays, the ... “it's all the manager's fault"   comments...
   Even the ballpark, Fenway, has a legend of its own, just passing its 100th anniversary year. In most other major 'sports fanatic' cities, that stadium would   have  been torn down and replaced at least three times within that  hundred year period. But then, we are talking about Boston, a city that respects and honors history and tradition.
   In an interview with players from the  opposing team during the 100 year celebration some were quoted to have said they didn't like coming to Fenway. It was too old,  to outdated and the lockers were too small. To small for what...  a place to stuff the rookie bat boy?
   But each year with a few minor changes, like additional seating  and some fresh coats of paint on the Green Monster, the stadium  continues to be a model that represents  'tradition',  just like the game  itself.
   So the question begging to be asked is...”What makes a sports' team great?” Is it  the players or  the coaches. It has  to be the size  and endless seating in the stadium or ballpark. It must be the result of the the wise and thoughtful planning by the team owners. Perhaps it is the quality of the hot dogs and beverages that are sold at the concession stands.  (I was  told there was  nothing like a Fenway frank. It was... OK. I hope the mustard doesn't stain my shirt.)
   If given the choice of being outside on a bright sunny day or sitting in front of a television, I generally will choose to be outside. But there are times I will turn on the game,  especially the night games. Come on! How many times can one watch the  reruns of CSI or SVU.
   Over the years it has been as entertaining to watch the people in the stands as much as the action on the field. Who can not smile when the young girl or boy catches a foul ball or even better, catches a home run hit by 'Big Papi'.And those 'walk off'  home runs this year. It's been exciting.
   I know it has been at least the last three years or  it may be  longer, but has anyone else noticed, as the television camera focuses on each batter at the plate, night after night, game after game,  the same gentleman sitting right behind home plate. Most of the time he wears a blue  sport coat with a  shirt and tie and in the last year or two he also dons a yellow headset. (At first I thought they were earmuffs.)
   To have a seat behind home plate each game,  he must be either part of the 'Red Sox organization' or perhaps  he is just a very lucky fan who loves seeing the Red Sox play ball, win or lose.
    The team is traveling  to the west coast for a rather lengthy road trip this week. Those 10 pm starts are a bit late for me, but thanks to the DVR, I can watch game in the morning before  the news. OK! I'll just fast forward to the good spots. But there will be many who stay awake until well after I do and go bleary-eyed into work the next day.
   And there is the answer to the question...”What makes a great sports team?” Its not the  size of the stadium or the new uniforms. Its not the so-so hot dogs and beer. Its the fans, because without the fans, there would be no game.
  For my friends and family  in NYC.....Go Sox! (This just may be the year, again!)