Tag: America

On The Floor At Midway

Before the entry, two quick notes:

1) The marble floor at Midway, though functional, is incredibly uncomfortable for sitting. As with most airports, the only power outlets are away from the sitting area and not really meant for passengers.

2) The 8:00 PM non-stop to Bradley International will be at least 1:25 late… at least. Helaine and Stef confirm, after a walk down the concourse, some flights are delayed with not time listed. Others have been canceled outright. Gotta love Chicago. O’Hare is no better.

OK – where were we? We spent the night in the motel in Mequon. We were leaving this morning while my parents were moving in with my sister and family for a few days.

Since we had a car, we volunteered to drop them off. Of course we never thought there wasn’t enough room in the La Cross to do that!

With a little rejiggering and bags on each lap, we were able to make it the few miles to Trudi and Jeff’s house. My guess is, we were at least 200 pounds over the La Cross’ design limits. Luckily, no potholes.

We left Mequon and turned south toward Milwaukee. Helaine had stayed at the Pfister and Steffie wanted to see it.

The Pfister is a very old, nicely maintained hotel. The lobby strikes me as what you’d find in San Francisco during the Victorian era. We had a nice lunch in the coffee shop.

Downtown Milwaukee seemed past its prime. There was little traffic and lots of older, ‘short’ buildings. In a vigorous downtown, height would have swept these old buildings away.

The attendant at the parking lot told us all the entrances to the southbound Interstate were closed! There was a roundabout way to get there, which he proceeded to describe.

Amazingly enough, it worked. Before long we were on our way south of I-94 East. If I-94 really went east, we’d be in Lake Michigan, a few hundred yards away. We’ve got the same problem in Connecticut with I-95 North, which runs east.

There was too much time to head directly to Midway, so we stopped in Pleasant Prairie at the Jelly Belly factory. It is located across the way from the Dyslexic Institutes of America (there is more than one I guess).

You would probably be surprised at the crowd, waiting for the free tour. We were! The wait was around 45 minutes before we piled into our faux train for a trip around the factory’s outer wall.

It was nice, but it would have been nicer if we had actually seen them making candy. Everything we saw (other than boxes and older outmoded equipment) was on video.

We took our free samples, spent a few bucks in the company store and headed south, again.

Have you ever driven in Chicago traffic? Holy crap – this was awful. Maybe worse than awful. And, I’ve been told it’s always like this. Yikes!

We went by Downtown. There’s a lot of distinctive architecture there, including the Sears Tower, but my best ‘sighting’ were the apartment buildings pictured on the opening of the old Bob Newhart Show!

They’re still posting 9:20 PM for our flight. It’s going to be a l-o-n-g day… and they still might change our gate as I’ve heard them do to a handful of others.

Blogger’s note: The past few entries have been posted without photos, because it’s a hassle to do when you’re on the road. I’ll add them later.

Politics About To Get Even Dirtier

During every recent election cycle there has been kvetching about how dirty politics has become. This, by the way, is a non-partisan dig. Both of our major political parties have been willing participants in mud related activities.

Sadly, negative advertising works in politics. It might work elsewhere, but we consider ourselves too sophisticated a society to put up with “Toyota sucks” commercials, paid for by GM.

As bad as it’s been, there’s been some restraint, mainly because those in charge have been ‘organizational’ people. You don’t get anywhere in any organization by being snippy and anti-social 100% of the time. People who fit in rise in organizations.

Now, the voice of politics might be the voice of bloggers&#185 – people who can stay home, by themselves, with none of the interpersonal requirements an office brings. Bring on the vitriol.

Here in Connecticut, Ned Lamont’s campaign for US Senate would be nowhere without the support of political bloggers. Howard Dean’s ill fated run for president was mounted on the backs of the blogging community. Dan Rather might still be anchoring the CBS Evening News, but for bloggers.

Adam Cohen, on this morning’s New York Times editorial page, talked about how computers and the Internet are making it possible for 15 year olds to swing elections. He was referring to this video, which has been viewed 30,000 times already (there are at least two versions on youtube.com). When was the last time you expressed your views to 30,000 strangers (and growing)?

Ava Lowery’s video was originally shown at the “YearlyKos,” the ‘political convention’ of liberal bloggers held last week in Las Vegas.

The cutting-edge discussions at YearlyKos were about the intersection of technology and politics. Bloggers sketched out their plans for shaping news in upcoming elections. The liberal political-action group Democracy for America gave a primer on turning online activism into offline activism, by developing networks of supporters and sending out “action alerts” to get them to contribute money and volunteer for campaigns and causes. The Participatory Culture Foundation, a nonprofit group, led a workshop on how ordinary people can make political videos and distribute them over the Internet.

We enter an era where partisans, with little restraint and powerful tools, will control the noise – if not the conversation. The technology seems to be an equal opportunity enabler (though Cohen felt the progressive wing of the Democratic Party would benefit most).

It would be a shame to think, as 2006 and then 2008’s political ads get going, what we’ve just been through were the good old days.

&#185 – Geoff, are you talking about yourself? To a certain extent, as this blog is primarily done while I’m by myself, with no outside consultation. There is no safety on my trigger, other than me.

Often I censor myself. That’s probably because of 35+ years of broadcasting live. Which bloggers have that experience?

Into New York For Friday Night

I picked up the phone and the first words were, “When’s this rain gonna stop?” Actually, there was another word between this and rain, but you get the point.

A friend of mine, from California, was in New York City. It was a quick trip to visit his dad and have a business meeting. I said I’d see him after dinner.

I left Connecticut around 8:30 and headed toward the Turnpike. Though it had been raining earlier, skies had become partly cloudy. The 100 mile trip to the city was a breeze.

I drove down the FDR Drive with the East River and Roosevelt Island on my left. The buildings of Manhattan were blocked on my right, but it didn’t matter – it’s a beautiful ride on an awful road.

I called my mom on the cellphone. More than anyone, I share my love of Manhattan with her. Given her druthers, that’s where she’d be living. Me too.

My friend’s dad’s apartment is right off the FDR. I got off the exit and turned down into the basement garage, less than 100 feet away.

This is a very expensive building on one of New York’s best known streets. In fact, this neighborhood is best known by the street’s name.

As I waited, the parking attendant pulled a huge Bentley from its space. A diminutive woman and her equally small husband walked toward the car. She looked familiar.

I stared at her and she looked back. Then it hit me – Judge Judy.

I don’t have something pithy to say to everyone I meet, but this was Judge Judy. I told her I followed her on-the-air every day and then explained how I was on the news in Connecticut.

My camera was hanging on my neck, so I asked for a photo. She was very gracious. I suppose she isn’t often asked for a photo in the garage of her apartment building!

I walked out of the garage and around the block to the building’s main entrance. Residents have a key card. I was just visiting.

A doorman stood guard in front of a bank of security monitors. After a quick call to clear me, I was in.

Years ago this was a ‘full service’ building. It is probably the last place I rode an elevator that had an elevator operator (even though it was a self service elevator). Those days are gone. Even the well to do have to cut back a little.

My friend and I decided to go for coffee. That’s one of the nice things about Manhattan. You want coffee – it’s a short walk away.

In fact everything in Manhattan is close by and it’s very walkable. I’ve joked in the past, New York is the only city in America with 24 hour room service.

It’s true! You can easily get Chinese food delivered at 3:00 AM.

The coffee, in a small Italian place under the shadow of the 59th Street Bridge, was fine. The company was better.

Since I’m talking about the building, I’ll leave his name out to preserve a little privacy. This is someone I’ve known for nearly 40 years. We have been through good and bad times together.

We’re both happy with life right now – in a good place. Professionally, he’s doing very well, and I couldn’t be more pleased.

We walked back up First Avenue, past a construction site with New York City steam blasting from a subturranean vent. Though already midnight, the city was teaming with activity.

My assessment of New York is probably overly romanticized. My friend, staying in a Manhattan apartment, said he hated it – would be glad to never leave his California home. I shrugged.

I got back to Connecticut a few minutes before 2:00 AM. I suppose that’s a lot of trip to pack into one short evening. I’m glad I did.


“Clean” Gene Tognacci

I just opened an email from an old friend, Gene Tognacci. When we met, he was 16 or 17 and I was closer to 20. He was working at getting through high school. I was working at a local radio station.

Actually, that’s a story unto itself. The station was WMUM/WQXT (That’s a postcard of the station when it was WWPG – mailed 22 years before I got there. The next picture down is the view from our front door.). We were at 3000 South Ocean Blvd in Palm Beach, FL. Our building fronted the parking lot at the Lake Worth, FL Municipal Beach.

That’s right – I was 20 and working as a disk jockey on the beach at one of America’s swankiest resorts. All day long there were girls in bathing suits strolling by my front door.

Trust me, I was oblivious to any ‘good life’ implication that imparted. I was 20. I wasn’t too bright.

Anyway, Gene was a high school student who hung around the station. I think he even did janitorial work for us. He really wanted to be in the business&#185.

It’s funny what you remember.

Gene had a 90cc (in other words puny) motorcycle. It turned out to be the focal point of one dayI still remember.

One day I borrowed the cycle and drove up and back on Route A1A. As I returned to the station, it began to rain. I didn’t know what to do, so I attempted to pick up the bike and put it on the porch, out of the rain.

I was soon at the hospital emergency room!

The photo on the left, of a soaked and hurting Geoff, was taken at Good Samaritan Hospital by another mutual friend, whose name has faded into the mist.

Like all good friends, Gene and I once had a dispute. I lent him some money, the root of most arguments!

It probably wasn’t a lot – though in those days with me making $130 a week, the threshold for ‘a lot’ was much lower. Gene hadn’t paid me back and I was steamed. I have no recollection how long this had been going on, or if I had been fair to Gene. Who knows? I was no bargain myself back then.

I’ll let Gene describe what went on next:

And, you may recall, I had been dodging your requests for payment (being equally broke) for weeks and it wasn

The 40 Year Old Virgin

Were we the last people in America to see The 40 Year Old Virgin&#185? We’ve seen it now!

Other than getting the newspaper and picking up the mail, I didn’t leave the house on Saturday. Helaine wasn’t far behind. Tonight, with little going on and both of us in pajamas, I asked if she wanted to see a movie?

We had never ordered a pay-per-view film before. I hit the big ‘money button’ on the remote control and scrolled through the titles. There’s a lot of garbage available. In fact, the percentage of crap is astounding, especially when coupled with the fact – someone wants you to pay for it!

We got to the “T”s before there was one movie we’d even consider watching. Helaine said “The 40 Year Old Virgin” was supposed to be funny, so we gave it a shot. The $3.99 we paid seems reasonable versus what it would cost to rent a DVD.

It was certainly a lot more convenient.

There’s plenty to like about this movie. The cast was excellent, starting with Steve Carrell and working down. But let me start where the credit belongs – the writing.

On many occassions Carrell and Judd Apatow’s script could have easily turned Andy, the title character, into a stereotype. Instead, at each fork in the road, Andy establishes himself as multidimensional and human. It’s a neat trick, and though some of his personality traits are unexpected, it works.

Andy, a stock clerk at a Circuit City type store, reveals his lack of sexual experience while playing cards with the guys. The movie is his journey out of virginity.

This is a real ensemble cast with five or six solid performances by characters that aren’t written paper thin. I particularly like Seth Rogen (the tattoos were ‘special effects’), Romany Malco and Paul Rudd as his co-workers and Catherine Keener as Trish.

Until last week I had no idea who Catherin Keener was. Then I saw Death To Smoochy, where she had a large supporting role opposite Edward Norton. She was very good last week and just as good this week.

If you were watching TV any time around the release of the movie, you probably saw a clip of the scene where Steve Carrell has his chest waxed. The word is, his pained expression… his pain actually… was real.

It was hysterical, but I am such a wimp I had to look away.

I enjoyed Carrell on The Daily Show and in Anchorman. This was far better and he is a fine comedic actor. I haven’t seen The Office, his show on NBC. I guess I have to now.

My guess is, in time this movie will be considered a classic. Honest. Is that too much to predict?

There is some nudity and explicit sexual content. If my daughter has seen this movie, I’d rather not know.

&#185 – Actually, no more than two minutes ago, my friend Farrell said he hadn’t see it either. He is in England at the moment, so we very well may be the only people in America not to have seen it.

This Blog – Waste Of Time

I spoke with my friend Paul last night. I’ve written about Paul before. He’s the Raider of the Lost Archives (I love seeing that in type), America’s premiere producer of television DVDs.

Paul ripped into me pretty good.

“You don’t have to write about the crab cakes you had,” he said, “or the other things you considered ordering.” Too much detail! “People think you’ve got too much time on your hands.”

I sat and pondered that for three or four hours.

It is within Paul’s natural nature to be judgmental. Don’t read this and think he was being overly critical.

Then he said, “You should write a book.”

I should, shouldn’t I? This blog has taught me one thing I never expected to learn – I really enjoy writing. But a book? That’s a lot of work and more organization than I normally muster.

I’m not even sure how one writes a book? Do you start at the beginning? Do you make decisions before the first words of dialog are spoken? Or, do you just write and let the story develop in an organic way.

That last choice is too easy and straightforward to be the correct one.

It’s not like I haven’t thought about the prospect. Everyone is supposed to have at least one novel in them, waiting to get out. I can’t even come up with a concept! I have writer’s block before the outline.

I’m sure Paul will be upset I’ve written about writing. “No one wants to know what you’re thinking 24 hours a day,” he’ll say&#185.

One of the guys I work with has written a novel. I know he’s been working on it for at least five years. Obviously, there’s more to the process than I understand, because I can’t figure out how you could fill five years writing and rewriting.

Still, it’s an interesting thought, and as I said, I really like writing.

&#185- Wow, you can put words in someone’s mouth!

Bought Off By Cookies

Every year, like clockwork, they arrive for Weatherman’s Day&#185. They are cookies – amazing cookies with zillions of calories and enough butterfat to drive a cardiologist to drink. A local bakery, part of a national chain selling cookie arrangements, sends them.

The bakery hopes the cookies will get on TV, giving them lots of exposure for minimal cost. And, the food slut I am – they get on the air!

I think, after having these cookies the past few years, I understand the incredible temptation an addict faces. There’s just no way for me to resist the cookies. I am powerless.

Even before the first bite, I am tasting them.

For some reason, when the cookies come, I get very popular. People who have no idea where the Weather Center is, amble into the studio nose first. They are an easy giveaway to a grateful staff already hopped up on caffeinated coffee.

This year there’s one small problem. The little sign on the cellophane wrapping said, “Don’t open until Weatherman’s Day, February 2nd.” February 2nd is actually Groundhog Day. Weatherman’s Day doesn’t come until the 5th.

Right – like I’d wait. These puppies are gone.

&#185 – What, you haven’t sent cards! Hey, I hadn’t heard of Weatherman’s Day either. Thank heavens for the Internet. Here’s what they’re saying about it on HolidayInsights.com:

National Weatherman’s Day honors weathermen, and woman who work hard to accurately predict the often fickle weather. Despite major technological advances and supercomputers, forecasting the weather is still a tricky, and ever changing business.

Knowing the weather is important in so many ways. It affect how we dress, where we go, and even if we go. Space launches are made or delayed depending upon the weather. And, knowing the weather can save lives. The most obvious example is knowing when and where hurricanes or tornadoes may hit.

According to the Air Force News, Weatherman’s Day “commemorates the birth of John Jeffries, one of America’s first weathermen”. Jeffries was born on Feb 5, 1744. He kept weather records from 1774 to 1816.

If you see a weatherman today, give them your appreciation for a job well done.

I Hate That Woodchuck

Drunk people in Western Pennsylvania get up early every February 2nd and watch as grown men in top hats and tails hold up a groundhog (aka – woodchuck) by the scruff of the neck. If the groundhog sees his shadow, we get six more weeks of winter. If he doesn’t, it’s an early spring.

Punxsutawney Phil – rodent

It is Groundhog Day. This is the one day every year when Punxsutawney, PA gets on the map.

Since I know some of you reading this check in from outside the United States, let me quickly explain. Drunk people in Western Pennsylvania get up early every February 2nd and watch as grown men in top hats and tails hold up a groundhog (aka – woodchuck) by the scruff of the neck. If the groundhog sees his shadow, we get six more weeks of winter. If he doesn’t, it’s an early spring.

This is a media event. Look at how they were set up for this morning

As the Groundhog Day celebration has grown in Punxsutawney over the past several years, so has our preparedness for the many members of the media who visit our town each year.

There are provisions in place to allow for convenient parking for satellite and other press vehicles at Gobbler’s Knob, and a designated press area is available for those covering the events.

Please contact us if we can help you with any aspect of your visit to Punxsutawney, or if you wish to arrange a radio or other interview.

A video feed of the events will be provided by the state of Pennsylvania:

EVENT: Groundhog Day Ceremony

TIME: 5:45 to 8:00 (Eastern)

SATELLITE: AMC – 9 (KU Band Analog)

MHz: 36

TRANSPONDER: K03

CHANNEL: 3

DOWNLINK POL: Horizontal

DOWNLINK FREQ: 11760 MHz

AUDIO: 6.2 / 6.8

By the way, it’s a scam!

OK – it’s not Enron or Tyco, but the Punxsutawney books are being cooked. This morning at sunrise, Gobbler’s Knobb, site of the groundhog, sat under a cloudy sky. That should have meant no shadow for Punxsutawney Phil. Guess again.

As always, Phil did see his shadow and word went out we’ll get another six weeks of winter.

As a weatherman… now a meteorologist… nothing thrills me less than knowing America is waiting to hear from the woodchuck that wants my gig! Damn you Punxsutawney Phil!

There is one good thing that’s come from Punxsutawney (other than my trip there, 30 or so years ago, for my friend Joel’s wedding at the Punxsutawney Country Club). it’s the movie Groundhog Day with Bill Murray, Andie McDowell and Chris Elliott¹.

I originally thought the movie was awful, but as I’ve watched it again and again and again, it has grown on me. Now I willingly watch and enjoy.

I wonder if anyone ever walks up to the woodchuck and tells him, “I wish I could have a job where I’m wrong 50% of the time and still get paid.” No – all the rodent gets is praise.

¹ – Chris Elliott lives, or lived, in a beautiful part of the state, not far from the mouth of the Connecticut River. if you run into him, please tell him I’m a fan.

Stef Returns To College

Today was Steffie’s day to return to college. Classes start on Monday after what seems like a century of vacation.

Considering she’s 18 and we’re not, we all got along very well during the break. Of course some of that was on vacation, during which we followed the ‘open wallet’ policy. For another week or so, she was with my parents in Florida where no store was left unvisited.

The trip to school is nearly 100 miles, taking nearly two hours. Is there traffic? C’mon – we’re passing through the Bronx and over the Throgs Neck Bridge.

Speaking of traffic – the next time someone questions my accuracy, let me refer them to the traffic reporters I heard today. Was I listening to a ‘best of’ compilation while they took a cruise?

On the way back, as we zipped along between 70-80 mph, the disk jockey on one Connecticut radio station cautioned us about the residual traffic backup from an earlier accident in the very spot we were passing.

At least on TV we’re forced to show you the traffic cameras. It keeps us honest. On the other hand, not many people are listening to our TV traffic reports in their cars.

A long trip contains lots of time for talking. Among the things I learned was Helaine’s plight as she tried to transfer money from our checking account into Steffie’s debit card account.

She needed a password and then an emergency backup super secret answer. “What is the name of your favorite pet,” the bank asked? “Ivy,” replied Helaine. Big red letters appeared on the screen! Wrong, wrong, wrong. “Your pet’s name must have four or more letters!”

Next question.

Two thirds of the way there, I decided to tune the radio to Mega 97.9. OK, they’re in Spanish and I don’t speak Spanish, but it seemed right at the time.

This station was first placed on the air by the Muzak Corp. in 1941 as W47NY on a frequency of 44.7MHz. In 1943, the call letters were changed to WGYN. When the new FM band was adopted in 1946, the station moved to 96.1, moving again to 97.9 in 1947. In the early 1950’s, the station became WEVD-FM&#185, which it remained until February, 1989, when the station was sold to Spanish Broadcasting and the current call letters and format were adopted.

As we got to “La Mega,” they were going into what seemed like a two minute live commercial, on remote and over the phone, from Potamkin Mitsubishi – Volkswagen. From there it was a long series of commercials in Spanish, followed by three in English and another in Spanish.

It’s very strange to hear Spanish commercials with English thrown in. Phrases like “18 to party, 21 to drink,” appeared in the middle of an an otherwise all Spanish ad.

I was getting into the music, but Helaine and Steffie were looking at me with that strange glance that normally comes prior to involuntary commitment. We switched stations.

Our E-ZPass was put to good use as we approached the Throgs Neck Bridge and passed a few lines of 20+ cars waiting to pay cash.

Though Stef had brought a half car’s worth of stuff home, we went back to the dorm loaded. I have no idea where all that stuff’s going.

I attempted to re-snake the cables for her computer and knocked over the hutch which sits atop her desk. Papers and pictures and three shot glasses (effect only – I’m sure they’d never been used) all hit the linoleum floor. The glasses shattered.

Helaine and I didn’t stay long. Once the glass was picked up and some rudimentary straightening was accomplished, we were in the car, on our way home. I stopped for coffee and gas and was headed toward the parkway when the phone rang. It was Steffie.

She found a wire that wasn’t in its proper place, attempted to snake it under the hutch and suffered the same fate as her father! We turned around and headed back.

That’s where we got to see Nassau County’s crowning achievement in fiscal responsibility. At this 90&#176 intersection were at least 17 traffic lights. I’m not sure. There might be one hidden by the bus.

Again, for those of you just joining the broadcast – 17 traffic lights. Anyone got a brother-in-law in the lighting business?

We’re home now. Steffie is asleep in the dorm (or so says her IM away message). I’m not sure she can appreciate how much we enjoyed being with her and how much we miss her.

Sending a child to college is just as much a test for the parents as the student.

&#185 – In a startlingly strange sign of New York’s very liberal past, WEVD was named after Eugene V. Debbs, American labor and political leader and five-time Socialist Party of America candidate for President of the United States. How strange is that?

Getting Trained By Sydney

I came downstairs around noon today. It didn’t take more than a few seconds to realize who was in charge – Sydney, the visiting dog.

Sydney had gotten up from her bed (the first actual movement I have seen) and was walking over toward Helaine. The reaction from Helaine and Steffie was along the lines of what you’d expect just before an eruption of Mt. St. Helens.

Nowhere in the world does slow walking get as much scrutiny… and I’m including Tyra Banks and America’s Next Top Model!

Helaine has become Sydney’s spokesman. “She wants to be petted.” “Be gentle.”

As a cloud of dog fur fell off Sydney, I rubbed her back. I’ve never met a dog who didn’t crave this, including Sydney.

When next I caught sight of Sydney, she and Helaine were in the kitchen. Sydney was standing up, but Helaine was on her knees. I think this is also how it works when you meet the Queen.

Only two days here and Helaine was on the floor feeding Sydney piece-by-piece. Are we trained yet, or what?

When Amy returns, there’s a better than even chance Sydney will find a way to avoid detection… hiding in some hidden corner of the house. Even dogs don’t want to leave a vacation at the spa.

Weather Opening

Tony Perkins is leaving Good Morning America after seven years. He’s returning to Washington, DC to do weather and stories.

OK – I’ll admit it, that is my ideal job. I can say that in public, because I’m sure even my bosses know. They also know how unlikely it is to ever come true.

The GMA weather position is very different from local weather. I used to fill-in there and remember hearing joking references to 50 states/60 seconds. But, it was loads of fun and is probably more so now with the addition of interaction with the Times Square crowd.

Just in case you’re Ben Sherwood&#185, reading this, wondering who to choose… here I am.

More than likely my heart will be broken. I have been without an agent for years. There was no reason to have one, considering I’ve been at one station for 21 years. I don’t think a submission ‘over the transom’ would even be considered.

However, I can still dream.

&#185 – Ben Sherwood is executive producer of GMA and probably ultimately responsible for making the hire.

JetBlue Emergency Update

When JetBlue’s Airbus A320 landed with its nose gear perpendicular to its motion, I wondered if anyone would try and connect this incident with JetBlue’s maintanence, performed in El Salvador and primarily by mechanics not certified by the FAA.

JetBlue doesn’t even fly out of the US, except to get its planes repaired or maintained.

Today the story hit the Washington Post. I’ve attached their story to the link below.

Continue reading “JetBlue Emergency Update”

Now It’s Rita That’s Got Me Worried

I should have started this over the weekend, because a new storm was the source of almost immediate ‘meteo chatter.’

Ophelia passed to my south. Phillippe is out-to-sea where he will cause little harm. Rita is in a bad spot with the promise of intensification.

There’s no doubt, New Orleans is the most vulnerable city for hurricanes in the US – duh. After that, Key West and Galveston are high up on the list. The official track projection for this storm, still a tropical storm and not a hurricane, impacts both cities!

Key West is an island with little land significantly above sea level. It is possible that during a significant hurricane (which Rita probably won’t be at the time) the entire island could briefly disappear as it was overwashed. There wouldn’t be the lasting flooding of New Orleans.

Galveston too is an island and prone to hurricane surges. Isaac’s Storm, the scariest book I’ve ever read, describes Galveston during the 1900 Hurricane. It stands as America’s most deadly natural disaster. Somewhere between 6-12,000 were killed, with most bodies never found.

From Wikipedia:

Since its formal founding in 1839, the city of Galveston had weathered numerous storms, which the city survived with ease. Residents believed any future storms would be no worse than previous events. In order to provide an official meteorological statement on the threat of hurricanes, Galveston Weather Bureau section director Isaac Cline wrote an 1891 article in the Galveston News in which he argued not only that a seawall was not needed to protect the city, but that it would be impossible for a hurricane of significant strength to strike the island.

The seawall was not built, and development activities on the island actively increased its vulnerability to storms. Sand dunes along the shore were cut down to fill low areas in the city, removing what little barrier there was to the Gulf of Mexico.

Rita isn’t much more than 24 hours from Key West. If the people there are lucky, the storm won’t intensify much, nor will it jog to the north.

Galveston has a bigger question mark. The five day forecast from the Hurricane Center aims squarely at Galveston (for purposes of this entry, let the cone of uncertainty be damned).

If you were living there, what would you do today? The storm is five days away and most likely will find another track before it arrives… or maybe not.

Nearly Childless

Now that Steffie is at school, Helaine and I are nearly childless. We can come and go as we please (as can Steffie, much to our chagrin).

Last night we went out to dinner with another couple and went to an adult restaurant. I’m not going to give their names, and you’ll understand why later.

The restaurant was Le Petite Cafe in Branford. It is a tiny place on Montowese Street, adjacent to the Green. It is tied with another restaurant for Zagat’s highest rating for Connecticut.

It’s small enough that I missed it as I drove by. It was only through Helaine’s diligence that we stopped.

Dinner was excellent. I had a chowder appetizer and lamb for the main course. Both were wonderfully prepared and very tasty. What’s not to like?

Though the restaurant is small, there are two seatings. We were there for 8:30, which is an early breakfast for Helaine who is normally in pajamas by then.

As we finished our main courses, the husband of the other couple started looking uneasy. A quick glance down showed he was taking his own pulse! He’s a physician, though most of his work is research and certainly not centered on anything his pulse would enter into.

He wanted to go to the car and lay down, but we weren’t hearing any of that. I gave my credit card to the waiter and walked him to the car. A few seconds later his wife climbed in and drove him to the Emergency Room at Yale/New Haven Hospital.

They were still there when I spoke to them this morning. His tests have come back fine. He’s still feeling achy and tired. He’s good enough to go home… but not good enough. There’s something going on with him that wouldn’t normally be checked for at the ER.

He’ll find whatever it is and he’ll be fine. Of this I have no doubt. But, it’s scary for all of us.

Today was another day with nothing to do. Helaine and I climbed into the car and drove to Foxwoods.

There are two casinos in Connecticut. Only this one, Foxwoods, has poker. At one time they both had poker rooms, but Mohegan Sun closed theirs about 20 minutes before the big poker boom hit America.

With no child left behind, we’re staying at one of Foxwoods high rise hotels. Like Mohegan Sun, this is a beautiful resort hotel. The rooms are every bit as nice as anything you’ll find in Las Vegas… though the view out the window is decidedly Eastern Connecticut.

Unless someone told you, you’d have no reason to suspect places like this existed in Ledyard and Uncasville, Connecticut.

I sat down almost immediately and played cards for a few hours. Then, it was dinner time.

Helaine had made reservations at Cedars, the steakhouse. We showed up at 6:30 and waited about 20 minutes. OK, that’s not a long wait, but 6:30 is 6:30.

The food was worth the wait. I had chowder (again) and a steak, prepared Pittsburgh (charred outside, rare inside). Between the soup and a side dish of potatoes, I decided dessert wouldn’t be necessary for me and Helaine concurred.

I headed back to the poker room for some more play.

This was a very good day of poker. I’ve said this before, but it’s worth repeating. Whatever insight or skill I bring to a brick and mortar casino, I owe to my low stakes online play.

Years ago I thought I was a pretty good poker player. I was not. Now I’m decent. I can keep my head above water at the stakes I choose to play.

Today I was conservative and measured. Patience is a poker virtue.

I only had one bad beat, though it was a doozy. I went in with a Jack and King of Spades. The flop came with 3 more spades – I had a King high flush!

The next card, the turn, was a rag (no help).

Then came the river. That final card was another spade. I was set to beat any other hand, except one that had the Ace of Spades.

I knew the two cards in my hand and the five on the board. That left 45 unknowns The one person playing against me had two cards. So, the odds were 2 in 45 he’d have it.

Ouch. This was a very expensive hand to lose. Still, the day ended quite positively.

How much better could I do? Not much, I figured. So, at 10:30, I went up to the room for the night.

I am going to work tomorrow, but there’s an 8:00 AM tournament and I think I’ll get up early and play.

Bob Denver

The headline read, “Gilligan Dies.” Maybe so. For many of us Bob Denver was just as strongly attached to the character Maynard G. Krebs from “The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis.”

Maynard was a beatnik – maybe the only beatnik ever portrayed as a continuing character in a TV show. He was adverse to school and work, didn’t understand Dobie’s attraction to women (in a childlike asexual way), as Dobie didn’t understand Maynard’s continuing desire to see “The Monster That Devoured Cleveland” and watch “the old Endicott Building” get torn down.

As both Maynard G. Krebs and Gilligan, Bob Denver played a simple child in a grown-up’s body. There was no subtext to either character. They were pure and sweetly incorruptible.

Bob Denver’s blessing, having two hit TV shows, was also his curse. Typecast as this simpleton character, he was never able to break out. More recently, he had done radio in Central Pennsylvania, and ran what looked like a homebuilt website.

Though one of America’s best known faces, he was seldom seen in the big time. Maybe, the truth was, in real life Denver was as simple and incorruptible as his characters.