When A Parent Loses A Child

The voice I heard was emotionally spent. This was a conversation he’d had too many times over the last 24 hours.

A few days ago a friend of mine lost a child. His grown son, himself with a wife and three sons of his own, passed out on the family room floor and died.

No warning. He was alive… and then he was dead.

I called my friend this afternoon to offer Helaine and my condolences. It was a tough call to make. This friend has been in my life over 25 years.

He was a co-worker when I arrived in Connecticut. He’s a competitor now. He was the first person to visit us in the hospital when Steffie was born. He is someone I’ve always looked up to.

He answered the phone. The voice I heard was emotionally spent. This was a conversation he’d had too many times over the last 24 hours. I worried I was keeping him in his pain by calling.

Maybe not talking is best? How can you know? Is there anything really appropriate at a time like this?

They say a child dying before his parents is the cruelest fate you can be handed. I told him there was no way I could understand what he was going through but any time a friend is hurt Helaine and I are hurt too.

My friend and his wife are people of great religious faith. As I wrote when my friend Kevin passed away, the ability to trust there is a larger purpose we can’t see or understand must provide some comfort. I envy the faithful for the emotional cover it provides them.

The wake is Sunday. We will be there.

Birthday Observations

I had a little time to remind myself why “The City” is different from everywhere else.

While we were in New York City for Steffie’s birthday party, I had a little time to remind myself why “The City” is different from everywhere else.

At the Clearview Theater on West 23rd Street in Chelsea, on a Tuesday evening, all four showings of “Sex and the City” were sold out.

The guy in the first photo was part of the nearby throng.


Living and working in the city deprives you of some of the softer things found everywhere else, like trees. OK, there are some ‘city trees’ growing in strategically placed holes in the concrete. They don’t count.

The palm tree in the second shot was in an upper story window. I’m afraid there wasn’t enough light for anything but this grainy crop.


Chelsea is a growing residential neighborhood, with all the usual neighborhood accouterments, including dogs! Helaine noted many of them were full size pups and not exactly efficiency apartment friendly.

Even with scores of dogs around, I saw no poop on West 23rd. There was, however, a converted gumball machine.

Twenty One Years Ago Today

Nine months pregnant, she decided to plant flowers. I couldn’t believe it then and I still can’t believe it now.

I was out with Stef this afternoon. On our way back home, I stopped and picked up a few flats of impatiens. There’s a reason they’re being planted today.

Twenty one years ago today, the exterminator came to our condo in Branford. Helaine, being ‘quite pregnant’ decided to go outside and avoid his chemistry.

Nine months pregnant with a basketball sized belly, she decided to plant flowers. I couldn’t believe it then. I still can’t believe it now.

The next day Steffie was born.

Tomorrow, we celebrate Stef’s 21st. I know she’s looking forward to it, as are we. It’s a very important birthday. We’ll be hosting her friends for dinner and drinks at a little place in Manhattan’s Chelsea District.

All that garbage people tell you when a child is first born — how your baby will grow up in the blink of an eye, sounds ridiculous and meaningless when it’s said. It turns out, it’s 100% true. She has grown up in the blink of an eye.

Steffie’s in a good place right now, both to herself and to us. It will be a happy birthday dear Stefanie. Happy birthday to you.

Looking Up At The Stars


Helaine and I are heading out again, this time to the west. Since we’ll be in the desert and it will be dry and dark, I thought I’d see what’s possible with my camera. Can a DSLR also function as a rudimentary telescope?

The Earth turns on its axis, so holding the shutter open any length of time introduces motion to the stars, even if the camera’s perfectly still. That’s no good. In most cases, the best way to combat the resulting ‘star trails’ is a mount which moves the camera in sync with the Earth. They’re often homebuilt from scrap lumber and some simple hardware, but I don’t have one (yet).

Even if I did, I’m not sure I want to pack it up and carry it around on a trip. There is another way… or so I’m told.

I downloaded a program, DeepSkyStacker, which will combine multiple images to give one ‘master’ image with less noise and more ‘real’ stars.

The photo at the top is my first try. Here’s a full size version. It’s the random piece of sky directly over my driveway. Steffie’s birthday gift, a Gorillapod, made the pointing part easy.

This one photo was really made from ten separate five second exposures, plus some pure dark frames taken as a reference. I’m using a Canon 50mm f1.5 lens on a Canon Digital Rebel (aka – Clicky).

This is a promising first step. I hope I have a chance to try more out west.

On Father’s Day

This was a great Father’s Day. Our little family is in an excellent place. We actually enjoy being with each other!

Oh, sure, laugh. If you’ve never had a teenage daughter, you just can’t understand. Maybe… just maybe, those trying days as the father of a teen are behind me. She is, after all, now 20.

Stef was on Long Island for a party last night, but came home bright and early this morning. I woke up and headed downstairs for cards and gifts.

This will sound like a lie. It is not. The cards were the best part – especially this year’s card from Steffie. It’s not that it was sentimental or sappy. It just reflected the nature of our relationship. That touched me deeply.

I wonder if she’s reached the age where she’ll understand sentiment trumps anything you can buy in a store?

“Father’s Day Man” had gotten the word early on and came through with a new lens for “Clicky.” It’s a Sigma 10-20mm. If you’re a non-camera type it’s the opposite of a telephoto – a wide lens.

Wide lenses have a very large field of view. They really good for capturing large things in small areas, like buildings in Manhattan or broad landscapes. I shot a few test pictures and was pleased. This lens will get a lot of use.

Steffie added to the camera theme with a Gorillapod. It is a tripod, a little under 10″ tall. The legs are a series of flexible joints that bend and rotate 360

Twentieth Anniversary

Sometime over the next few days, we mark an anniversary in my family. Twenty years ago, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.

Had this been in her mother’s time, or even earlier in her own life, my mom would have died. It is a medical miracle that my mom and so many other women are breast cancer survivors&#185.

That’s not to say it was easy or not without consequences. This was a life changing experience for her. But, twenty years later, my mom is healthy and happy and incredibly active.

I will be forever grateful to the medical community that developed these miracles of modern science – because they really are nothing short of miracles.

It was an emotional time for us for a number of reasons. My parents had just moved to Connecticut from Queens. They were strangers out of their comfort zone in a life threatening situation. And, Helaine was pregnant, expecting in June.

The surgery had been successfully performed a few days earlier, but my mom was still at Yale/New Haven Hospital around this time, the week before Christmas.

Christmas is a quiet week in the hospital. Most elective surgery is postponed. If you’re there, you’re there because time is of the essence.

One night, while my mom was still recuperating, Helaine and I headed to the hospital to visit. While we were there, our friend and neighbor Ron Feinberg walked into the room.

He was finishing his medical training at Yale, and he too was stuck in the hospital on Christmas Eve (along with every other berg, stein, man and witz).

Things were quiet and he had an offer. Would we like to take a peek at our child? This was about the last possible thing we could have expected, but Helaine and I were game, so we followed Ron through the nearly deserted hospital and into an examining room.

As Ron passed the ultrasound transducer over Helaine’s belly, a video screen showed random noise… and then… Oh my God, it was a child.

We both stared at the screen silently.

Most people look at an ultrasound picture and try to figure out whether their child will be a boy or a girl. Silently, we did too… except Steffie’s body ended at the waist. Whether she had her legs tucked under her, or was in some contorted position, all we could see was we had a “stump baby!”

We actually both came to that conclusion independently, but never told Ron. He looked at the video as an OB/GYN, not a parent, and pronounced our unborn child healthy. And, she was.

Seeing our child for the first time, even with the less than perfect imagery of an ultrasound machine, was an amazing experience we’ll never forget. Getting that sneak peek and realizing my mom would live to cherish her grandchild, made it the most amazing gift ever.

In early June, Steffie was born right there at Yale/New Haven. She was not a stump.

&#185 Because the breast is composed of identical tissues in males and females, breast cancer can also occur in males, although cases of male breast cancer account for less than one percent of the total.

A Smidge Of Winter

Most people here in Connecticut will gladly tell you, this winter hasn’t been too bad. Sure there have been cold spells, but our snow storms haven’t been as bad as recent winters.

In fact, yesterday was a perfect example of an ‘almost storm.’ Much of the state saw snow turn to rain. The farther north you were, the slower that turnover and the more snow you got.

Here at the Casa del Zorro&#185 it was a slushy mix.

The footprint picture tells the whole story.

From the top, whatever it was that covered the ground almost looked like snow. As soon as pressure was applied, it was revealed for what it truly was – yucky!

The problem is, this slushy stuff is going to turn my driveway into a skating rink by morning. If I’m lucky, it will have enough surface texture to provide traction. That is not assured.

In a typical year, we’re still a few months away from the last snowfall. In a dreadful year, add another month to that… maybe more.

In my heart-of-hearts, I am pleased the winter hasn’t been awful. I am also suspicious that something big is still to come.

&#185 – Our Spanish speaker, Steffie, is still in Florida with my folks. I think I just wrote “House of Fox” in Spanish. If I’ve written something like, I’d like to make love with your barnyard animals, please let me know asap.

Macy*s Thanksgiving Day Parade – Going Again

Two years ago, celebrating our twentieth wedding anniversary, Helaine and I took Steffie to New York City for the annual Macy*s Thanksgiving Day Parade. It was an unreal experience (click the link, it’s worth reading if you’re considering going)!

We got there early enough to sit at the curb… and early enough for me to nap before the parade began.

I brought my Fuji S620 along and took hundreds of shots. It’s tough to get a bad one when you’re right on the line of march and the sunlight is strong.

Over the past few days my website has taken a growth spurt and it’s totally because of those photos.

I am going back this year, though under somewhat different circumstances.

My boss called Friday. He had spoken to a producer at ABC’s affiliate news service. Somehow, they had given everyone Thursday off! That left them short a reporter to stand on a rooftop, overlooking the parade, providing live shots to all the affiliates (though most will happen before the parade actually starts).

He thought of me, and the rest is encompassed in my anticipation of sleep deprivation.

I’ll know more Monday, but it looks like my days starts on Central Park West sometime around 4:00 AM. Since there are affiliates coast-to-coast, I’ll be feeding until the West Coast starts Good Morning America at 10:00 AM EST.

I’m really looking forward to it, in spite of an awful weather forecast. It’s a fun event and will lend itself to having a good time on-the-air. And, it will be interesting to test myself over dozens of similar, yet different live shots.

If you read this blog for no apparent reason and have no real idea who I am or what I do, check your local ABC TV affiliate Thanksgiving morning. I’ll be looking for you.

There’s Some Software I Need

Now that Steffie’s Ipod has disappeared, I’m starting to think more about security for those items she brings to school in the fall. We joked about it when the mother of a classmate bought Steffie a ‘lockbox’ for her dorm room. The joke’s on us!

The first thing to get is a lock for the laptop. My friend Peter, my expert in laptops, says it should have a combination lock, not a key. I understand. I’m just not entirely sure what’s bolted down in a dormitory room that we can attach the chain to?

There is some software I’d like to find – or maybe I can figure out how to write it myself. What I’d like is for Steffie’s computer to ‘phone home’ every time it boots.

For instance, I could have it ask for a small file on my website. My website log would then contain the IP address the laptop was using. If it’s a college IP, no problem. But, if someone walked off with the computer, the IP address would allow the police to know exactly where the machine went.

Getting the computer to do this when it’s booting up without revealing the process is the problem. Suggestions are welcome.

I never thought this kind of security would be so important. It is. There will be lots more to ponder before the summer is over.

Out To Dinner

A major Saturday for Helaine and me – we went out to dinner with another couple. This is huge in the general social scheme of things as we’re normally stay-at-home types.

We were having dinner with Amy and Rob. Amy is Helaine’s friend and I had never met Rob. Helaine and Amy met online through a project they were both involved in and then, through Rob’s work, Amy and Rob moved to Connecticut.

We chose to take them to Tony and Lucille’s on New Haven’s Wooster Street. Wooster Street is the heart of New Haven’s “Little Italy.” Many of the residents and business owners trace their roots back to Amalfi. It’s no surprise that Amalfi is New Haven’s sister city.

Helaine and I have been going to Tony and Lucille’s for over 20 years. It is a family restaurant in the truest sense of the word. Parents are in the kitchen. Children are on the floor waiting tables. In many ways, we are treated as if we’re part of the family.

When Steffie was born, it was the first place we took her! Sitting at a small table in the corner, we put Steffie’s carrier on the floor next to Helaine. Lucille, in her pre-grandma days, took Steffie and carried her around the restaurant while we ate.

Did I mention the food is really great?

We met Rob and Amy at 7:00 and sat right down. The restaurant was crowded. Local colleges, including Yale, are in the midst of their graduation frenzy. Parents are in from all over the place often celebrating with their graduating children.

Speaking of which, the governor of a nearby state was there eating. Included in his entourage were his family and what I assume were state troopers, standing watch. They were ensconced in a side room – private but visible from the main room.

Memo to the gov – I won’t mention your name here, but the folks who waited on you were less than thrilled with your attitude. Would it be so difficult to be gracious? These people were working hard for you.

During dinner people cam up and said hello. I’ve been here a long time. I enjoy that. But I was irked by one woman – and she probably didn’t mean to upset me.

She sat near me and told me she liked me but that she thought I was wrong most of the time. Grrrrrr. I’m certainly not right all the time, but that was an exaggeration on her part – and why? What was she trying to accomplish?

If she knew how hard I work trying to be right and how upsetting it is to me when the forecast doesn’t come in as predicted, she probably would have chosen her words differently. I guess knowing those things isn’t her obligation.

We ate our dinner and walked across the street. I’m sure it’s somewhat sacrilegious, but we had dinner at Tony and Lucille’s and walked across the street to Libby’s for desert. Libby’s is an old style Italian bakery.

The line out front was as long as we’d ever seen, stretching out the door and on to Wooster Street. As we snaked our way inside, we caught a glimpse of what was there. If you’re on a diet or watching carbs… hell, if you’re watching anything, this isn’t the place to go.

In order to get people to eat things that are so bad for them they’ve got to be delicious!

I don’t remember what anyone else had, but mine was a chocolate mousse concoction. Somewhere there is a cardiologist who did not sleep last night because he dreaded I was eating this thing. It is the proverbial heart attack on a plate.

It was so amazingly good!

We came back to the house where Steffie was waiting, dessert in hand. Steffie really likes Amy, so she was happy to be home on a Saturday night to say hi (and start the coffee while we were in the car).

All-in-all a very enjoyable night.

Spectacular Sunday In Southern California

When I went on Instant Messenger tonight, my friend Bob jumped in from Florida:

a few more blog posts, and i’ll begin to wonder if you’ll stay there

He is so right. Helaine, Steffie and I find this lifestyle and this place very appealing. I would go in a second.

Whoa! What am I doing? People at work read this blog. Don’t worry. Southern California is an obsession I’ve had forever.

Be quiet for a second. What do you hear? Nothing. No phone ringing. No offer. I came close with KCAL years ago, but I don’t think it’s meant to be.

So, we’ll continue to come out every year or two… continue to be teased by California… and life will go on happily in Connecticut.

As nice as California seems, my Connecticut life isn’t too shabby. After all, it affords me these trips to California!

Where were we?

We have stuffed ourselves like pigs on this trip. Every night has featured a spectacular dinner with appetizer and desert. There comes a point where enough is enough. That came this morning.

Instead of going someplace nice for breakfast, we decided to go to Starbucks and eat light. I had a bagel and coffee. Helaine and Steffie were similarly pedestrian in their meal.

We sat outside. It wasn’t long before Cleo, the dog, came and made friends with us. As we learned, her owner, now working on a movie in production, needed to give Cleo away. She was living in a place with no dogs allowed. Very sad, but we couldn’t bring Cleo back on the plane with us.

This was to be a shopping day. Before the trip Steffie had decided on some stores and some areas she wanted to visit.

I will admit it. She travels in a totally different world from me, especially when it comes to style and fashion. As I have learned during this trip, there are trendy stores, ‘celebrity’ stores, written up in People and US Weekly, featured on “E” and VH-1.

The names of these stores mean nothing to me, but to Steffie, this is a big deal.

We went to two or three of these ‘name’ shops on Robertson Blvd. in West Hollywood. While Steffie and Helaine browsed stores like Kitson, I walked the streets.

Actually, there’s a lot to learn.

For instance, just before the corner of Robertson and Beverly, there’s a sign warning that the intersection is “Photo Enforced.” Adjacent to a few of the traffic lights in the intersection are boxes with strobe lights and cameras.

Run the intersection, and you get a moving violation with photo showing you, the red light you’re running and other pertinent details! I saw it in action. Very sobering.

A block away from the shopping is Cedars-Sinai Hospital. There’s the Max Factor Pavilion, a center with Steven Spielberg’s name on it, and (just outside the hospital) the intersection of George Burns Road and Gracie Allen Drive!

This is Los Angeles, a factory town for TV and the movies. Getting your name out is everything.

Next stop for shopping was Melrose. I’m not sure why, but I gently begged off. I just didn’t want to walk into store-after-store-after-store.

Trust me. This is great sport for Helaine and especially Steffie. And I’d be right there with them if these were computer or camera stores. I dropped them off and decided to go on a search for the Hollywood sign.

I had done this before. There are places where the Hollywood sign is very visible, and then a block or two away, it’s gone. And, if you try and drive toward the sign, you quickly find none of the streets are parallel, nor lead in a single direction for more than a few hundred feet.

Nothing in my luck changed. I saw the sign, headed toward it and then lost sight of it. I got lost enough to end up on a ramp for the Hollywood Freeway with Burbank the first exit.

I got off and looked for a way to loop around and reverse course. Before I could get back on the freeway, I saw I was approaching Mulholland Drive.

Mulholland Drive is a twisty two lane road that runs through the peaks of the Santa Monica Mountains. The Santa Monica Mountains are what separate the ocean side of Los Angeles County from the San Fernando Valley (aka – The Valley).

Back in the 50s I used to watch The Bob Cummings Show. Bob, a perennial bachelor, would always talk about taking his dates to Mulholland Drive.

I turned onto Mulholland and it wasn’t long before I saw the entrance to a small parking lot. Immediately, I knew it was a scenic overlook. What I didn’t know was I had hit the motherlode for seeing the Hollywood sign! Not only that, the overlook also had an amazingly commanding view of Downtown LA and most of the west side of town.

I drove on, pulling to the side of the road a mile or so later for a view to the east of the entire San Fernando Valley. The sky was blue, the visibility was high.

None of these spots are for the faint of heart. These are steep mountains and the best view is close to the edge. In case you’re looking to get these vista, here’s my best guess of where I was!

I was excited at my find, but no longer had a reason to be on Mulholland. I drove to Laurel Canyon Road, made a left, and headed back toward Hollywood proper and Melrose Avenue in particular.

Melrose Avenue is where you go when you need something that looks good with your new piercings or to match the ink color on your tattoo. Whereas most of the parts of LA we had visited so far were pretty and well to do, Melrose Avenue is gritty.

I took a shot of a trash can filled to the brim, because I think it’s indicative of the Melrose feel. So are parking meters covered in concert posters and band stickers.

Amazingly, I found both a parking spot and Helaine and Steffie. As they continued to shop, I continued to shoot photos. This is a very photogenic street. And every ethnic, racial and socio-economic group is well represented.

Well, everything but middle aged white guys. I was the token.

We headed back to the Century Plaza to get ready for dinner. Tonight we were heading to The Ivy on Robertson, where earlier Steffie had shopped.

This was our fourth trip to The Ivy. There are two reasons for that. First, the food is spectacular. Second, there are always celebrities there – always.

Once I sat back-to-back with Martin Scorsese. Drew Barrymore walked by and stopped to talk with ‘Marty.’ The last time we were there, Steffie and Helaine saw Fred Durst of Limp Bizkit.

Tonight, our reservation was for 7:00 PM and we had requested to sit outside. Please, don’t be fooled. Outside in LA means under the stars, but adjacent to a propane heater. Even on a cool night, you’re nice and warm.

More importantly, from an outside table you get to see and be seen.

It didn’t take long for Steffie and Helaine to realize Cojo (OK – I called him Cujo, not knowing who he was), aka – Steven Cojocaru, was at a table nearby.

I’m not going to explain who he is because either you know him and are excited, or don’t and are a loser… like me.

Cojo was sitting at a table with a woman (unknown) and Al Roker, weatherman from the Today Show. As it turns out, I know Al. I’m not saying we’re best friends, but we know each other.

The last time I saw Al was at the White House in Washington. How many people can say that?

Years ago, Al made a very kind gesture to me, recommending me for a job that I didn’t even know existed, and I’ll never forget it. He is first class and one of a kind. He deserves whatever success he has… maybe more.

After dinner, I went over and said hello, and we chatted for a few minutes.

Helaine and Steffie felt the evening was a total success! I agree.

As always, the food was superb and the service attentive. We shared an appetizer pizza and I had linguine with all sorts of seafood. For desert I had ice cream and hot fudge over a pecan square. There were no leftovers from me!

By the way, the Ivy shots here on the blog are ‘stock’ shots taken in the afternoon. So as not to come off as a yahoo tourist, I was asked to leave my camera at home… and I did just that.

I’m probably not supposed to say this, because she’s very private about it, but today was Helaine’s birthday. Going to The Ivy was part of our celebration, and it lived up it our expectations.

Tomorrow is our last day in Los Angeles before heading to Palm Springs. We’ve planned a day at Universal. More tomorrow.

Rockford, Rickford… What The Heck, They’re Back

When you’re a fan… a rabid fan… you will move heaven and Earth. I guess that’s the best way to put Helaine and Stef’s trip to Rockford, Illinois into perspective. They are rabid Rick Springfield fans. You remember, the Jessie’s Girl, Don’t Talk to Strangers guy?

I’m not sure I would travel to Rockford for the ‘cup of coffee and danish’ period of time they were there. On the other hand, I don’t hang out online with people who decided to call it “Rickford” or “The Rickdom.” They do.

Tonight they’re back home.

For Rick Springfield, the venues are no longer giant stadiums and arenas. However, a dedicated. screaming crowd – mainly women – is still there and as Helaine’s license plate frame says, “Rick Rocks.” He has moved into the retail world of rock and roll where the contact with fans is a little more manageable and the touring a little less frenetic.

I’m not sure how Rockford got involved in this, but the classic and freshly refurbished Coronado Theater was chosen to be the site of a concert/DVD taping. Steffie and Helaine could not resist.

I have asked them in the past how many of the attendees of a Rick Springfield concert have been to see him before? Most. How many have seen him a dozen times or more? Lots.

I know for this concert, women were traveling from all across the US and parts of Europe. That’s rabid fans!

Over the past few years Helaine has gotten more involved in the infrastructure of his fan base, becoming a “Street Team” manager who helped in the promotion of his last CD. For this concert, Helaine and Amy, the Street Team national manager, organized a charity luncheon for 150 guests.

I watched over the last few weeks as faxes and emails and phone calls moved back and forth from the hotel in Rockford&#185 to our house in Connecticut. The fact that Helaine is extremely organized and probably could visualize what she wanted, didn’t hurt.

It was a thing of beauty. Helaine is modest and very talented in this regard. I’m not quite sure how she did it, but I’m proud she did.

Stef pitched in, helping register the attendees as they came in… and finally associating faces with some of the names she’s seen online.

From what I hear, the luncheon went off without a hitch and with the money collected through raffles and auctions of Rick Springfield oriented ‘stuff,’ around $18,000 was raised for the Disaster Relief Fund of the American Red Cross.

Helaine says Rick, who came to the luncheon for a few minutes and ended up spending around an hour, was taken aback by some of the prices paid for tickets and ‘meet and greet’ access.

They said the concert was great — but they always do! The proof will be in the DVD, whenever that’s issued, and the HDTV concert that will also be broadcast.

I think ‘being’ Rick Springfield is a good and lucrative business. He has to look at it differently than he did when he was a soap star and avoiding having his clothes torn off. He understands what his product is and who is buying, and he delivers. In the few times that I’ve been around, he seemed to genuinely enjoy what he’s doing.

When people find out Helaine and Stef are big fans, they are often surprised. Rick Springfield is no longer a household word. Who would expect a 21st century fan base? In fact, in this morning’s New York Times his name was used as a contrast the modernity of today’s MTV.

It was not meant to be complimentary.

MTV’s durability at the place where the fickle music business and the protean television trade intersect can be attributed to a singular mind-set: its 24-year-long insistence that the channel itself is the star. The Rick Springfields of the world can rise and fall, but MTV endures.

The problem is, even without the hits, he’s a talented guy who was a musician before he was a soap opera star. His success is now different, but there’s no denying, it’s still success.

&#185 – You would think a hotel in Rockford would be thrilled to get what amounts to convention-like business, on a weekend, in the dead of winter. They did and I’m told it showed.

Off to Newport

Since she was a little girl, Steffie has played team sports. We have always gone to see her play when we could, whether it was basketball, lacrosse, or field hockey. Yesterday was field hockey in Newport, RI – 2 1/2 hours away. The day was beautiful, so we decided to go.

Oh, did I mention Steffie said it would be OK for me to bring my camera?

We have recently found that I-95 is awful on Saturday’s. The traffic is bad until you approach the split between I-95 and I-395 where it gets worse. I’m hoping this is summer oriented traffic and will abate when the warm weather crowd decides to stay home.

Newport is off the beaten path as far as the Interstate Highway System is concerned. We took I-95 to Rhode Island exit 3 and then got on a two lane road – seemingly forever.

Actually, the fact that it was a two lane road through a rural area wasn’t the problem. It was the speed limit that got me. Most of the way the limit was posted at 40 mph or less.

C’mon, I do 40 mph in my driveway!

Being on an island, the last part of the trip took us over two spectacular bridges (note to Rhode Island – EZ-Pass would be nice) with views of sailboat – filled bays.

I have been to Newport a few times, and was never impressed. What was wrong with me? This is a great destination. It is beautiful in so many ways, from the seaside views to the mansions to the walkable streets with shops and restaurants. More on that later.

Helaine had printed out directions from Steffie’s school’s website. It, unfortunately, referenced businesses that might have changed names or gone out of business. Basically, we went on a wild goose chase through Newport in search of St. George’s School.

Finally, in desperation, I called the school. The person who answered, quickly offered up that she was from Massachusetts. Luckily, after another few minutes of driving around I found a landmark she knew! It didn’t take long to get to the school.

It’s tough to believe there’s another school like St. George’s. On 200 acres in Newport, it has sweeping ocean views. The land alone must be worth hundreds of millions of dollars! The campus is dominated by a large Gothic chapel. There are numerous, well kept fields for field hockey, soccer and football.

Steffie’s team was there for pre-season field hockey scrimmages. Over the course of the afternoon, her team played three games – winning none. Still, it was just practice and Steffie played really well.

She had been a defensive player, but has now moved into an offensive position, basically covering the entire field. I have no idea how she and the others played three games. This is a physical game. Don’t think, because these are girls playing, that it’s any less aggressive.

I brought my Canon Digital Rebel and both lenses with me. It was an opportunity to try out a feature this camera has – continuous focus for sports – and the 70-300 mm zoom lens.

I am happy with how the camera and lenses worked in nearly every way. My long zoom lens is as ‘powerful’ as the lenses the pros use, but it is not as ‘fast.’ It needs much more light to produce similar pictures, and that forces me to either shoot with a slower shutter, wider aperture, faster film equivalent speed, or not take the picture at all.

There was so much bright light in Newport, it didn’t make a difference.

Looking back, most of the pictures were sharp and clear. The sports mode gave me shutter settings that were very fast, mostly taking shots faster than 1/1000 of a second. That meant stopping the action without blur.

I have read reports of this Sigma 70-300 mm lens not being particularly sharp. Maybe for the most critical of applications that’s true. It looks pretty sharp to me.

One of the cool parts of taking pictures at St. George’s are the amazing views. Many of the shots show the beach in the background. If you didn’t know any better you might think this was Malibu, not Rhode Island.

After the third game we decided to head into downtown Newport for dinner. I found a place to park ($10 – “You can park it yourself, I don’t take my test for another two weeks.”) and we began to walk around.

I was hungry, and no one objected, so we ducked into Christie’s, located on the docks. The wait was 15 minutes, so Helaine and Steffie went to a store, while I went out on the dock to take some shots.

It wasn’t long before we were seated, outside on the deck. We didn’t know it when we picked Christie’s, but our view was to the west and we were about to see a remarkable sunset.

Helaine and Steffie shared lobster bisque and I had chowder. Very good. My dinner was fried clams. Helaine had scallops. Steffie didn’t like the stuffing of her stuffed shrimp, but everything else was fine.

As the Sun went down I picked up my camera to take some pictures. I could see, in front of me, some people with a point and shoot camera trying to get a portrait taken. It wasn’t going to work – so I offered to take the shot and email it to them. That opened the flood gates.

By the time I was done, I had four email addresses in my pocket and had taken pictures of, and with, a bunch of people. It was around this time that our waiter recognized me and offered up that he was originally from Old Saybrook… instantly forcing me to up his tip another 5 %.

We passed on dessert at Christie’s and headed to Ben and Jerry near where we were parked. The day had gone on a very long time. I was getting tired.

We headed back toward Connecticut, following directions Helaine had downloaded from the net. I got us to I-95 where she took over and finished the trip.

I think we were all surprised at how much we like Newport. We will definitely be back.

Blogger’s note: There is a photo gallery with more pictures from our day in Newport here. Each picture on this page is also clickable for a larger view.

Seventeen Years Ago Today

Steffie was born 17 years ago today. I remember Helaine telling me to come right home after the newscast. She knew the time was right.

Earlier in the day Helaine had gotten out of the house as the exterminator did his thing. She stooped in our tiny front yard in Branford, planting impatiens. I couldn’t figure out how she was doing it. I still can’t

Now, with me home, she was getting ready to call the obstetrician. He listened to her signs and told her, “not yet.” We turned on the TV.

I’m not sure if every program on “Nick at Nite” that night was the Mary Tyler Moore Show, but it seemed that way. We sat and watched and wondered. Even if Helaine would have seen a foot sticking out of her, she wouldn’t have called the doctor back. Luckily, she didn’t have to.

Somewhere in the middle of the night the phone rang. It was the doctor. Go to the hospital – they’ll be waiting.

Helaine was having moderately intense contractions by this time (who am I to say they’re moderate – let’s face it, if guys had contractions, we’d just pass out on the spot). Branford was deserted, as was I-95 and Route 34. I ran the only red light I hit… not because we had to, but because my wife was having a baby. It was my right to do as I wished on the road.

I’m not going to go into details about what happened when we got to the hospital. That’s not because it was gory or bad, but because Helaine has worked it into a stand-up comedy routine worthy of 6 minutes on Letterman. Least it to say, Helaine feels the receptionist was more interested in my celebrity than her pregnancy.

Labor was not easy for Helaine. I believe Steffie was auditioning for Cirque du Soleil in there – twisting and turning and getting caught up in her own umbilical cord. It was very scary as doctors and nurses scurried around and prepared Helaine for the emergency C-section they never had to perform.

It wasn’t until mid afternoon that Steffie thought enough was enough, and out she came. She was, and still is beautiful. She was, and still is our baby. This, of course, is a bone of contention between father and daughter.

I know it’s difficult for her to understand, at age 17 when it seems she should be a grown-up, but we can still close our eyes and see her wrapped up tight with the little stocking hat (which we still have). I can feel her in my arms as the nurse handed her to me and our feelings of joy and relief that she had ten fingers, ten toes and all the standard equipment.

The photo, the one with me holding Steffie just a few minutes after her birth, is one of my proudest possessions. Of course Helaine did all the hard work, but I get some credit too.

So today is Steffie’s day. I just hope she’ll take a cue from the Oscars and Emmys and thank the people behind the scenes who made it all possible.

Foxwoods

We spent yesterday, and a significant part of today at Foxwoods. Helaine and Steffie both wanted to see Rick Springfield perform. I wanted to play poker with real people.

Though Foxwoods is only about 1:15 away, we decided to spend the night. The hotels on-premises are beautiful and quite pricey. This isn’t Vegas. Still, it was a good idea because we weren’t under the restrictions a drive home would require.

Check-in was a breeze and we ended up on the 21st floor of the Grand Pequot Tower, overlooking the woods of Eastern Connecticut. The room was spacious by hotel standards and the bathroom immense, with big towels and strong water pressure (the two criteria by which I judge all hotel rooms). There is no high speed Internet access and the dial-up connection wasn’t very good, and quickly disconnected.

Though Foxwoods is the largest casino in the world, it is in a part of Connecticut that had languished in obscurity for deades. If you think of Connecticut as the “Gold Coast” of Fairfield County, you are not thinking of Eastern Connecticut. If it weren’t for the casinos, Fairfield County residents wouldn’t know this area existed.

Near Bozrah and Occum, not far from Uncasville, Foxwoods is surrounded by the town of Ledyard (Foxwoods itself is in the Mashantucket Pequot Tribal Nation) . Without Foxwoods and Mohegan Sun, I’m not sure what the economic state of Eastern Connecticut would be. I do know, with these two casinos, people working in service industries can have jobs with benefits… including insurance. In Eastern Connecticut, a working family can own a home.

I headed to the poker room and got on a list to play, then joined Helaine and Stefanie in the coffee shop. Again, this is a beautiful place, but not Vegas. It was a little more expensive for similar food.

After lunch, while the girls schmoozed with the cult members (Rick’s fans), I went and played cards. I sat at a $5/$10 fixed limit Texas Hold’em table and bought in for $100. Unlike the tournaments I favor on the computer, I’d be playing live cash. Every bet was real money – win or lose.

Almost immediately, I faced one difference between online and brick and mortar poker – the dealer wasn’t perfect and the players weren’t saints. An older man at the opposite end had ripped into the dealer for a minor transgression which put her on tilt. For the next 15 minutes she was awful; once beginning a deal without shuffling!

Almost immediately I found an inner peace I had never experienced at a poker table before. Everything was crystal clear. I was totally confident. I watched as players went in and out, betting, checking, folding. I knew what they had… or was pretty sure.

My game is very tight. I only play ‘premium’ cards, and only play under specific circumstances. I had no trouble folding hand after hand after hand as the action went on around me. As tight as I was, the players at the table were the opposite. Of the 10 players, often 6 or 7, sometimes more, would see the ‘flop.’

Compared to my online games, things went slowly. But, I wasn’t bored. I had ample opportunity to take in the game and the players. This is something I had never been able to do in the past. I knew how I’d play my cards almost as soon as they were dealt, so I watched them play my opponents play theirs and started to form opinions about their style and technique.

I have been thumbing through poker books for years. The authors always talk about doing things like this, but I had never been savvy enough. At times, it was as if the other players were moving in slow motion with their cards exposed to me.

OK – Hold on a second. Let me stop patting myself on the back. I am going to tell you I won, but make no mistake about it. Just because I won tonight doesn’t mean I will be a consistent winner. But, as I wrote before I went, I thought I’d end up with a pretty good idea of my skill – win or lose. It was fun to realize all the computer games I’d played had sharpened my skills.

I played through the early evening at $5/$10 and won $112. I was beat on a very big hand when my pocket Kings didn’t hold to pocket Aces, or I’d haev won more. Poker players always remember their beats more than their wins.

When my cellphone rang around 10:15 I picked up my chips and cashed in. Steffie had called from the concert, asking me to bring more memory for the camera. She didn’t think the 200+ pictures available would hold her when we went backstage after the show.

I got the memory and headed to the theater. I was lucky enough to see someone who knew me and was let in for the last 20-30 minutes. Helaine and Steffie were out of their seats in the first row, pressed against the stage. Steffie had my camera against her eye and was snapping away.

I moved down to see them, then said hi to Mark Davis, our chief capitol correspondent, who was there with his wife Betsy. From there I moved to the back of the theater. I have seen Rick Springfield before. His fans really are cult-like in their fervor. It is fun to stand back and watch him perform and them react. And, it’s fun to see Steffie and Helaine having such a good time side-by-side.

After the show the three of us and the Davis’s went backstage to say hello and take some photos. It’s really a spectacular theater, with great acoustics and better lighting. Backstage was the perfect spot for the meet and great (last time it had been in a basement stairwell). As he had been in the past, Rick was gracious and took time with those who had come to see him.

It’s obvious he enjoys the adulation his fans give him. How many other rockers will have a career that spans four decades?

We took Steffie upstairs to the room, then joined Mark, Betsy and two friends of theirs in a very nice lounge on the 24th floor. They were driving home, so the night didn’t last long, and Helaine and I were soon back in the casino.

The $5/$10 table I favor wasn’t available, so I tried a weird no limit game with $1/$2 blinds and a buy in limit of $40-$100. If it sounds confusing now, I can assure you it was extremely confusing then!

It didn’t take long to give back $50, and I’m still not quite sure how. I stood up and walked away.

This table is obviously there to cater to folks who’ve watched poker on TV or played on the Internet. The math involved when one player goes all in against another player with less money makes the action unwieldy. On top of that, it’s slow. I could never get into the rhythm of the game, if there even was one.

There were still no seats at the $5/$10 table, so I sat down at $10/$20. This is way over my head. I had never played at stakes like this before. My thought was, even with the $50 I’d just dropped, I was up. I’d take my winnings and another $100. Whatever would happen, would happen.

The $10/$20 games was very similar to the $5/$10 – loose. It didn’t take long to win a pot and I recouped the $50 from no limit and a little more to boot.

This table was expensive to sit at. If you folded an entire round, not playing a card, it would still cost $15 for the blinds!

I held my ground and played tight. I gave back what I’d just won and a little more before winning again. The pots were large – often well over $200. My night was not spectacular. But, I felt really good about how I was playing.

Dealt two 4’s, and with little action before the flop and then a third four with the flop, I quietly sat back and watched my 3-4’s turn into 4-4’s! They had been played so silently, on a table where others could be depended on to do the raising, that when the river came, another player bet into my four of a kind. I gladly bet back.

On the hand I decided would be my last, I took an AK all the way to the river without pairing. The others at the table, having seen me fold hand after hand, respected my final bet enough to let me steal the pot.

Not every hand was played correctly. I slow played two Queens, even after I caught a third one. When I checked, it allowed a player to stay in and make his straight, taking me out. Had I bet the three Queens, he surely would have folded to me.

I cashed out $265 ahead, which with my earlier winnings put me up $377.

Was I lucky? Probably. Will I always win? No. Consistently? I’m not sure, but it’s certainly more likely than ever before.

Before I went to play, I had written in the blog that win or lose, my goal was to judge my competence at poker. I am confident in the fact that my skills have greatly improved thanks to the thousands of games I’ve played on the Internet. I think that will translate to profit… at least I hope it does.

I can’t wait for Vegas this summer.