Tag: Atlantic City

Unusual Evening

I am behind on my schoolwork. Well, actually I’m ahead, but with plans for the weekend and little time to catch up, I’m behind.

Have I come close to explaining what I mean?

I took a 4th quarterly homework test in my Applied Climatology class this evening. It wasn’t too bad, and I squeezed it in between our 8:40 PM newsbrief and the 10:00 PM news.

I still have the corresponding test on my Radar Meteorology course. It will be significantly more difficult and end up eating into the weekend… when we have plans.

As soon as I get home from work, wash my makeup off (that’s still strange to say), and change into jeans, we’ll be heading out to the Jersey Shore. When Steffie was a baby, this was the type of trip we made all the time.

You would think traffic would be light at this time of night, but the Connecticut

Turnpike, New England Thruway, and Cross Bronx Expressway are in a constant state of disrepair. There are some areas that seem to have been work zones since I was a little boy.

So we’ll be taking the Merritt Parkway (lower speed limit, chance of running into a deer) and listening for traffic on the George Washington Bridge that would force us onto I-287 (I can’t spell Tappan Zee Bridge).

Since our hotel room won’t be ready until tomorrow afternoon, we’ll be spending a few hours with some friends – though how friendly can you be when you get there at 4:00 AM!

It’s been a long time since we were in Atlantic City. This will be Steffie’s first trip. We’re hoping to walk the boards in front of the casinos with her. It’s a very sleazy, honky tonk type atmosphere, but thoroughly enjoyable. Most of the boardwalk strollers have the physical beauty of a person in front of you in line at the DMV… or the clerk behind the counter.

We’re also hoping to see my friends Barry and Neal and their respective spouses. It’s been a really long time since I saw them.

So, all in all, rushing my schoolwork and driving through the night should be worth it. I’m not sure I believe that, but putting it in type might convince me.

The Stalker Tour Continues

Helaine and Steffie went to Westbury, on Long Island, last night. Rick Springfield was playing. Actually, it was a double dip, with the concert and an invitation to the sound check that precedes the show.&#185

Helaine has been very active on his “Street Team,” promoting his current album. It’s good to have fans so dedicated – and he has hundreds at this level and probably thousands more without quite as much zeal or free time.

I can’t begin to count how many times Helaine and Steffie have driven (or flown) to see him, but it’s a lot. It was good to see them go together. It was better to see them return afterward, still speaking to one another.

Steffie has taken to borrowing my camera when she goes to shows and shooting as many photos as are humanly possible. Her technique is excellent. Like most photographers she tends to center the subject instead of filling the screen with it. But she’s learning with every picture she takes.

The one that heads this entry is hers, though I played around with Photoshop to make it a little more ‘artsy’.

This afternoon after the sound check was over they called to tell me Rick had asked if I was there. Last time through Connecticut, I had interviewed him for our weekend show. I guess he remembered.

He was either being friendly or trying to pick up my wife. Since Steffie was there to chaperon, I’m guessing friendly.

He’s appearing this weekend in Atlantic City and, amazingly enough, we’ll be there. While Steffie and Helaine see the show, I’ll be trying out the poker room at the Borgata. Both the hotel and poker room are supposed to be “Vegas-like.” I’ll let you know.

Meanwhile, if Rick asks for me Friday night, I’ll be available.

&#185 – Since a sound check is a technical rehearsal, you are likely to hear things like the steady, slow, Roman slave ship speed, beat of the drum. It’s possible to hear 10 – 15 minutes worth of that single boom… boom… boom.

Beauty’s Only Skin Deep

Even in the newsroom, there’s always gossip and chatter. Today, one main topic of discussion was the engagement of Donald Trump and the immense diamond given to his fiancee. As would be expected, the soon-to-be Mrs. Trump III is much younger than “The Donald.”

I certainly don’t know, but I would expect this to be a relationship which is defined in agreements drawn up by lawyers, for Trump’s benefit.

I have known the Trump name for a long time. My grandparents lived in a huge apartment complex in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn – not far from Coney Island. It was called Trump Village and was built by Donald’s dad, Fred. Back then, the Trump name was associated with housing for the masses, not the monied.

If I remember correctly, my grandparents lived one floor below the top in a building that was 23 stories tall (I’m sure my mom or dad will read this and send me the correct number). There were thousands of families crowded into this little enclave with nearly no parking for residents and less for visitors. Two separate elevated train lines snuggled up against the building, and the terrace view showed the expanse of the Coney Island Subway Yard.

Donald Trump’s name first came to my attention when he rescued New York City’s Central Park skating rink. It was a project which languished under mismanagment of the Parks Department. Trump moved in and voila – it was done.

In that one move, Donald made a name for himself.

He also made a name for himself in other ways. I remember, but can’t find the story now, Trump making life difficult for some elderly, rent controlled tenants in a Midtown Manhattan building he was refurbishing. Stockholders in his Atlantic City casinos haven’t benefitted from The Donald’s guidance either.

One of my co-workers said, “Who wouldn’t marry Donald Trump?” I think that really meant who wouldn’t marry his money? But money is only a small part of a larger package.

Lack of money can make you unhappy. But the opposite doesn’t apply. Money, by itself, can’t make you happy. Trump has two failed marriages behind him. If money was the end all, he’d still be on number one instead of aiming toward number three.

By the way, the same applies to beauty. Who is more beautiful than Halle Berry? Her most recent marriage just broke up.

I know Trump was a major (maybe the major) reason behind the success of The Apprentice. Still, I see him as an empty suit. I don’t know why exactly. I do know if he and I shook hands, I’d count my fingers afterward.

Am I misreading him? Maybe. Looking back at what I just wrote, I wonder if I’m too judgemental? I don’t see him as a man with many redeeming features. And, I don’t know why the charm others see in him evades me.