Tag: Helaine

Steffie Goes To College

Every life has milepost days. Yesterday was certainly one of them, as we took Steffie to college and helped her move into the dorm.

Make no mistake about it. This has affected me. But whatever I’m feeling pales in comparison to what Helaine and Steffie are feeling. I can claim to understand, but I can’t.

Our day started very early. It was supposed to start just early, but Helaine couldn’t sleep. When I woke up, a few hours before my scheduled time, she was already out of the shower.

We planned to leave the house at 7:30 and were pretty much on schedule.

If you’re reading this, waiting for the moment when the wheels fell off the wagon, you might as well stop now. This day went exceptionally smoothly. Nearly everything went as planned and the college was shockingly prepared and organized.

Is this my life we’re talking about?

The trip to Long Island took around two hours. There is a ferry available, but it only makes sense if you are going to far Eastern Long Island – not us. We headed down the Connecticut Turnpike which becomes the New England Thruway at the New York State line.

As we passed over the Throgs Neck Bridge, I realized that at some time Steffie would be making this trip on her own. I wanted to let her know about some tricky exiting.

An hour and a half into a two hour trip is too late to start. The best way is to let her drive it some time, with me in the passenger’s seat.

As we pulled on campus, a uniformed guard moved toward the car. Before Steffie went to her dorm, did she have her 700 number?

Sure, it was under a room and a half’s worth of stuff!

Steffie and I set out for the Student Center. This was actually a good thing, because she was able to get her student ID, which she would need for virtually everything else.

Next stop, the dorm. Steffie’s room is on the 6th floor of a 13 floor tower. The building is poured concrete, with some brick and cinder block. I would suppose if you’re going to build a structure to hold hundreds of 18-22 year olds, you’d want to make as little of it flammable as is possible.

The concrete looks like it was poured into wooden molds, so the grain pattern of the wood is still visible on the building’s exterior. I’m sure some architect somewhere will wince when he reads this, but I like that look. At least dull, drab concrete is given some modicum of texture.

Another campus cop, dressed like a park ranger, was near the dorm, directing traffic. He asked me if I could squeeze into a spot, which I did. The rear hatch of the Explorer was poised at the edge of the sidewalk. Perfect.

We walked inside where Steffie registered for the dorm, got a sticker added to her ID and a key for her room (don’t lose it – replacements are $150). Then we moved back outside for the surprise of the day.

The college had a small fleet of wheeled bright orange carts. Instead of hand carrying a car’s worth of stuff, we filled up the cart (twice) and rolled it to the elevator and then the sixth floor.

Steffie’s room was ‘prison modern’. It’s small room, with large window. The floors are some sort of easily cleaned, plastic derivative. There were two desks, each with a hutch, two dressers and two large standing hanging closets.

Near the door was the outlet for high speed Internet and telephone access. It, and the cable TV/phone jack, were the only real mistakes of the room. In order to bring the Internet to the desk across the room, you’d need to run the school supplied Ethernet cable across the floor… or go out and buy a fifty foot cable (which is what I did).

I thought Steffie had overpacked… and maybe she did… but she managed to squeeze everything into her half of the room. Once she put some photo montages and other personal touches on the wall, the room began to look homey.

While Helaine and Steffie fixed the living space, I tackled the electronics. Her computer quickly connected to the school’s network. Her two speakers and subwoofer sounded great on her desk.

At one time a student would pack up a small stereo system for a dorm room. There’s really no reason to do that anymore. Steffie’s laptop will serve as her stereo. It’s loaded with all the MP3’s that are in her iPod, and then some. Plus, it will play CDs.

All this time, while the unpacking and set up was going on, Steffie was alone. Her roommate, coming from Kansas, had not yet arrived. Half the room was warm and fuzzy. The other half was Cellblock-G sterile.

Being on the sixth floor and facing west, the room has a great view. The building in the center of this photo is North Shore Towers (where my friend Peter’s parents once lived), about eight miles away.

As the afternoon moved along, we realized there were a few items we had forgotten, so we headed out, looking for a ‘big box’ store to load up.

When I went to college, there was an old black and white TV in the common area in the basement. With its rabbit ears antenna, we could only get a few fuzzy signals. The was Boston’s Back Bay, where even a rooftop antenna brought ghostly signals and where cable wouldn’t be introduced for at least a decade or more.

Today, there is cable TV in each room! Steffie has multiple channels of HBO. Hey, we don’t have that at home!

We had decided to wait on getting her a TV until we got there. And, quite honestly, there wouldn’t have been room in the car.

First stop was Best Buy. It must have been a cold day in hell for me to walk in there, because Best Buy and I just don’t get along. I don’t want to go into the whole story, but my last trip to a Best Buy, much closer to home, ended with me screaming at the manager, “OK then, call the cops.”

We found an off brand 20″ TV for… Oh, go ahead, guess. I’m waiting.

The TV was $87.99. How is that humanly possible?

Forget the labor and parts. How can you ship a weighty box halfway around the world and build a Best Buy on the profit from this thing? I’m not sure how is possible. The TV has remote control and input jacks for a DVD and/or VCR.

The remote came with batteries!

We also picked up a little DVD player. Sure, the computer can play DVDs, but this is what she wanted… and again, it was dirt cheap. The DVD player was $31.99.

Here’s what I can’t figure out. How can this TV/DVD combination sell for less than the frames for my eyeglasses? There’s some disconnect here… or the ability to make a boatload of money producing cheap frames.

The TV fit nicely on top of Steffie’s dresser. The DVD player needed to be turned into one corner. It’s not optimal, but it will do. It’s a dorm room, after all.

Next stop for us was the theater for a lecture on fire safety. I had already given Steffie my own cautionary tale about fire alarms and dorms. It will go off often. She still needs to leave. She can’t take the chance it will always be a false alarm.

There was another paragraph here about the lecturer, his demeanor and his warmth. I have removed it because I don’t want to be sued. ‘Nuff said.

Evening was approaching and Steffie’s roommate was still a no show.

At the lobby of the dorm there was a short list of who wasn’t there. The list grew shorter as names were crossed off. Not this one. She was top of the list and still missing in action.

We went to a barbecue on the intramural field. There were previously warm hot dogs and cheeseburgers (with unmelted cheese on the burgers) and we ate away.

Time was running short. Helaine and I had to return to Connecticut. We didn’t want to leave Steffie before the roommate arrived, but we had no choice.

Our goodbyes were tearful. Steffie put on wide sunglasses, but tears still poured out. Helaine was no less emotional.

After being with Steffie virtually every day for 18 years, we would be separated. Helaine will be seeing her in a month. It will be longer for me.

If you would have asked me how Steffie would fare in college a year ago, I wouldn’t have had a ready, positive answer. It’s different now. This last year has seen her mature a lot.

She has said, and I believe her, that she’s ready for college and the college experience. I think she is.

It will be interesting to see how she ‘plays with others’. As an only child, Steffie has had her own bedroom, bathroom and playroom. Now she’ll be sharing a room with one girl and a bathroom with a floor of them.

There are so many things to learn in college. Classroom work is only one part of a very large experience.

Blogger’s note: Steffie’s roommate arrived, alone, right after we left. She had packed light with more being shipped over the next few days.

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.

Hot Air Dispute

One of the things I was really looking forward to on our vacation was a trip in a hot air balloon. For Father’s Day, Helaine had bought trips for both my dad and me. It sounded very cool.

Unfortunately, our first trip on Wednesday morning was canceled because of high winds. Being a weatherman, I went and checked the official numbers. They looked pretty light to me, but we had a few more days.

On Friday we were scheduled to go again… and again, nothing. I checked the winds and found them to be a bit stronger than Wednesday, but still balloonable (a new word I should copyright).

Our vacation ended before we could fly, but of course, this is not the end of it.

The company Helaine bought the flights from, Balloon Adventures, has decided not to refund our money. Even airlines, by far the worst of the worst as far as customer care is concerned, refund ‘non-refundable’ tickets when they can’t get you to your destination.

I have had an email conversation with Buffy from Balloon Adventures and it’s obvious we don’t see eye-to-eye on this. So, I have disputed the credit card charge, and reported my troubles to the Nevada Attorney General, the consumer reporter on Channel 13 in Las Vegas and the BBB (even I admit the BBB is next to worthless but you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do).

Tomorrow I start writing to the Las Vegas discussion forums and probably epinions.com.

My guess is I’ll get my money back in the end. The question is, why for $300 would Balloon Adventures risk the bad publicity they’ll surely get from this and the time and money it will take to respond?

There is often a good reason small businesses stay small.

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.

How Does The Diet Go?

It’s been two and a half weeks since I began dieting and so far, so good. I was so distressed about my weight when I began, that I couldn’t look at the scale to note my starting weight. The best estimate is, I’m down 11-12 pounds and that’s a huge difference.

Within the first few days, my suits started fitting better. Of course the fit of my clothing was the original signal to me that it was time to lose a little. Today, Helaine told me she could see I was thinner.

I’d like to lose 15 pounds more (which would take me back to what I weighed 20 years ago), but that will take a few months. I’m willing to make that commitment. I never thought I’d have the willpower to diet, but it’s not that bad. It’s just that once I get to my goal, I immediately return to being a carb loving, pigging out, hog.

That’s stupid. Unfortunately, intellectualizing the problem doesn’t make it go away.

Of course, once you begin eating the way you did before your diet, you will move back toward your pre-diet weight. No diet can immunize you against your own bad habits as you move forward.

In the past I had been a strict Atkins adherent. This time, it’s a cross between Atkins and South Beach. I suppose I’ve just used South Beach to introduce a few foods I had never used before… but I’m still closer to what Dr. Atkins prescribed.

I like Atkins because the weight that comes off, and comes off right away, is from fatty places, like your belly.

There are two foods I’ve discovered on this trip through the diet that have really surprised me. The first is a chocolate fudge bar from Klondike. The fudge bar is excellent and I’d enjoy it even off the diet.! It uses Splenda for sweetening. I’ve tried Splenda in coffee and didn’t like the taste (nor do I like any artificial sweetener in coffee). It’s a different story in baked goods. Helaine made a flour free almond pound cake, sweetened with Splenda, and it’s really good.

The second surprise is the new Atkins wraps at Subway. I’ve had the chicken bacon wrap with ranch dressing, and it’s really good. Allegedly it is has 8 grams of carbs, which is acceptable. Packed with veggies it’s more filling than I’d expect from its size.

This past weekend in Chicago I was able to keep dieting even though it was all restaurant food. Once you realize what you can and cannot have, it becomes easier. I have yet to crave for the things I shouldn’t be eating so far.

I’m still never taking my shirt off at the beach. America continues to be safe in that regard.

I’m Not That Nice

A few months ago, Elizabeth McGuire (no Lizzie McGuire jokes, please) asked if she could interview me for Hartford Magazine. Never the shy one, I said yes.

I have just read the article, and can now guarantee, I’m not anywhere as nice as she portrayed me. I am grateful, however, she lied on my behalf.

Only part of the article was on the magazine’s website, so I retyped it to place here on my site. Other than changing the spelling of my daughter’s name, and my length of service at WTNH, I’ve left it as is.

Hartford Magazine / February 2004

WTNH weatherman Geoff Fox doesn’t mind being call a weather geek. In fact, he finds it flattering. Fox loves the scientific process of predicting and forecasting the weather. “I’m the kind of guy who does like to look at lists of numbers, charts and gr4aphs. It’s a different math puzzle every single day, and no matter what you do, you’re presented with another math puzzle the next day,” Fox says.

Day after day for the past 19 years at WTNH-TV, Fox has pored over the maps, graphs and charts; analyzed the data; and then translated the information into “plain English” for his viewers. Fox gets two to three minutes during evening newscasts to tell viewers how the weather on any given day is likely to affect them. Without being asked, he answers dozens of questions such as, “Should I wear a raincoat, start that outdoor project or cancel that backyard picnic?” Fox says many viewers listen critically to his forecasts, and they hold him accountable when he’s wrong. “Believe me, people can be tough if you are wrong – and they should be, because other than the Psychic Friends Network, there aren’t too many people who come on television and predict the future for a living,” Fox explains.

As we sit at the kitchen table in Fox’s spacious Hamden home one recent afternoon, Fox explains to me that advances in computer technology have increased weather forecasters’ ability to develop more accurate forecasts. Suddenly, Fox excuses himself and leaves the room. Moments later he’s back with his laptop computer. There begins my tutorial on weather patterns. A map with curvy lines shows barometric pressure, one with splotches of color shows precipitation, and a pretty blue graph shows, well I’m not sure what that one showed, but it sure is colorful! Though much of what Fox explains is lost on my unscientific mind, his main point isn’t: The mathematical calculations and other technical information computers offer weather forecasters are essential tools of the trade. Like blueprints to contractors, or EKG printouts to doctors, computers make it easier for weather forecasters to be correct more often. “We can get more detailed information about what the atmosphere is doing… why it’s doing it… how it’s doing it…”

But once Fox comes out from behind the computer, he is able to deliver important information in an easy-to-understand, conversational manner. And he just about always throws some humor into his forecasts, often catching his co-anchors off guard. “I’ve always been the guy who told the jokes and made funny little remarks. And I think I have good timing,” says Fox.

Fox honed his timing during his 11 years as a morning-radio personality in Cleveland, Philadelphia and Buffalo. In 1980, Fox became the host of a Buffalo TV magazine show at WGRZ-TV. That’s where he became interested in weather forecasting, applied for a weekend weather position, and got the job. Fox realized meteorology was an area in which he could use his math and science skills. Fox says he was always good in those subjects and was even on the school math team as a kid growing up in Flushing, Queens, NY.

Even though Fox says he scored higher than 700 on the math portion of the SATs, he tells me he was not a very good student, especially in college. “I was in the accelerated dismissal program at Emerson.” he jokes. In fact, he flunked out the first time he attended the Boston college that specializes in communications.

He is now, however, getting straight A’s in his course work to become a certified meteorologist. He’s enrolled in a distance learning program at Mississippi State University. But most of what Fox needs to know to get a degree in meteorology he already knows.

After years of on-the-job training and watching New England weather patterns, Fox has a pretty good track record of predicting the weather. A classic example of getting it right was his forecast for the so-called “Storm of the Century” (as some television promotion departments dubbed it) that took aim at Connecticut the first weekend of March 2001. Most of the computer weather models were indicating the strong possibility of at least three feet of snow with blizzard conditions. But Fox didn’t think they were correct. He had been using a different computer model (maintained by a major university) during the 200-2001 winter season, and it had been extremely accurate. So, Fox was pretty certain the site’s calculations on heights, temperatures and pressures in the atmosphere were reliable. He stuck with his prediction that the storm would bring mostly rain, sleet and perhaps a few inches of snow. “If you’re confident in your abilities, you have to give what you think is best, in spite of the pack,” he says. Fox’s news director at the time questioned the accuracy of his forecast but then decided to trust it. Gov. Rowland, however, put his faith in the blizzard forecasts and practically shut down the state. The “Storm of the Century” never materialized. Fox would later write an Op-Ed piece for the New Haven Register that he was “hurt” by an article in that paper, which led readers to believe that all area forecasters got it wrong.

That’s not to say, however, that Fox gets it right all the time. Even after 20 years in the television business Fox says he is still “incredibly bothered” when his forecasts don’t bear out. “there will be times when I wake up on a Saturday morning and I will be upset that it’s sunny. If I said it’s gonna rain, than a rainy day is much nicer than a sunny day.” Fox has been know to apologize to his viewers on the air when one of his forecasts has proven incorrect.

In the family room of Fox’s house, the fireplace mantel is crowded with pictures of his 16-year-old daughter Stefanie, in various stages of childhood and Fox’s wedding pictures. Fox and his wife Helaine recently celebrated their 20th wedding anniversary. Next to the mantel, behind the glass door of his entertainment center, Fox displays his seven shiny gold Emmy awards – meticulously lined up in a row. He earned those awards for weather and science reporting. Along with his work at WTNH-TV, Fox has hosted a show called “Inside Space” on the SciFi Channel and has been a fill-in weathercaster on ABC’s “Good Morning America.” Fox says he would like to do more work for ABC because the experience was “cool.” He’d also like to host a game show but says those jobs would be in addition to his work at WTNH-TV.

When Fox isn’t working, he spends his time with his family, maintains his Web site(www.geofffox.com) with his daily postings and plays Internet Poker. Fox also does charity work, and his favorite charities include the March of Dimes and the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. Fox sums up his feelings about the charity work and accurate forecasts this way” “Look, I’m not living in a hovel. I’m not driving a ’65 Pinto, and the reason I have whatever success and nice things I have is because of the people of Connecticut, so I feel there’s an obligation to give something back.”

Helaine and the Cult People

I kid Helaine, saying she’s in a cult. It sometimes seems that way. This is all because she’s a huge fan of Rick Springfield, and has been for over 30 years.

Rick Springfield had some big hits: Jessie’s Girl, Don’t Talk to Strangers. He’s got enough for a decent ‘hit medley’ in concert. Still, it’s been a long time since he had concentrated airplay.

Over the years, Helaine took me to see his early 80’s movie, “Hard to Hold” and later to see him in concert. After a while he became the ‘house act’ act the MGM Grand in Las Vegas, starring in EFX.

He is talented and charismatic on stage. He’s my age, but in much better shape (damn you Rick Springfield). A few years ago, in Las Vegas, Helaine convinced Steffie to go to see Rick in EFX and now she’s hooked too. After the show she told Helaine, “You never said he was hot.” Since then, Steffie has taken loads of photos at his concerts (here and here) and was even published in his Tour Book and 2004 Calendar.

With the Internet, acts like Springfield have been better able to sustain their careers and maintain a sizable fan base without continuous radio airplay. Helaine subscribes to a Rick Springfield group on Yahoo and receives dozens (sometimes hundreds) of emails daily. Some of these women analyze the nuances of his stage act with the detail of a color commentator going over a touchdown pass on the fifth replay.

Helaine has mostly lurked in the shadows, reading and not writing. She has made some friends through the group and kept current on what Rick’s doing. All that changed a few months ago.

Rick was in the process of finishing a new album and would be promoting it by appearing at concerts, doing interviews and making personal appearances. The fan club members decided they would help. They organized ‘street teams’ in defined geographic areas and set out to spread the word.

Helaine got to be manager for the New York region, though we live about 100 miles from New York City. For the past month or more, I’ve been watching her, amazingly organized, on the laptop, piles of paper at her side, planning strategies. Day-by-day she consulted and cajoled the members of her team.

I was a skeptic. I was wrong.

A few days ago, Rick appeared on WPLJ radio in New York. At street level, unseen by the radio crew, dozens of street team members congregated with signs and pamphlets and a whole lot of genuine spirit. Somehow, word got up to the studio and down came someone with a microphone and recorder.

Today, Rick was on “Fox and Friends” on Fox News Channel (click to watch the interview – high speed access only). Again, the fan club was outside. As I watched the broadcast, it was obvious the hosts were impressed by this show of strength. You could see posters and people through the window behind the interview set. Their presence gave Rick Springfield ‘street cred’ in the present tense.

As it turns out, one of our former technical directors is now a TD at Fox. With a few emails, I was able to get Helaine and Stefanie inside, where they watched the interview and schmoozed a little with Rick, his road manager and personal manager. I’m sure some of the other fans were jealous, but this was my doing – not Helaine’s.

Speaking of jealousy, I would be lying if I didn’t say I was a little jealous of Rick’s fans and their ‘street team’ mentality. How wonderful to have a fan base that is so dedicated that they’ll come and stand outside in the bitter cold or do whatever else is necessary to continue your success. Actually, that in and of itself might be more meaningful success than CD sales figures alone could ever show.

Helaine and Steffie are back on the road tomorrow, seeing Rick in concert in Toms River, NJ. All the other girls in the cult are going too.

Something’s Gotta Give – The Movie

As previously established, this being Christmas, and especially with Steffie in Florida visiting my folks, Helaine and I went to the movies. The chosen flick was “Something’s Gotta Give” starring Jack Nicholson and Diane Keaton, with Keanu Reeves and Amanda Peet.

Let me start by saying the title doesn’t seem to fit. Every time I’ve gone to tell someone I saw the movie, and even as I began to type this entry, I couldn’t remember it!

Jack Nicholson is playing himself (or at least the guy he plays when it seems like he’s playing himself) again. Hey, that’s a good thing. It’s a character I enjoy seeing. Nicholson is larger than life. In fact, most of what I read about him is more interesting than most of the characters in movies.

His love interest was played by Diane Keaton. I remember her breakout role as Annie Hall. I would have never predicted her career would go where it’s gone and that she would be as good as she’s gotten. Again, this is an enjoyable performance by an actress I’ve grown comfortable with.

Both she and Nicholson are effortless in their roles and with each other.

In the movie, Nicholson is a guy who can’t commit. Unlike most guys in their 60’s, Nicholson is dating and bedding women young enough to be his daughter… from a second or third marriage. He meets Diane Keaton while dating her daughter.

I found the story poignant and the characters likable and real. There were times when the dialog seemed ad libbed between the two principals. If it wasn’t, that’s a major tribute to the writing. If it was, it’s a credit to the director for letting these pros expand on the material. Hold on – it’s the same person – Nancy Meyers.

It is difficult to imagine anyone else playing Nicholson’s role, but Nicholson. Helaine commented and I agree, that the part was most likely written for him or with him in mind.

I come from a family where we often cry at commercials. So, it’s not a major thing to say I cried, a little. The movie was poignant. The emotions were warm. The ending was sweet.

During the movie, I felt the urge to hold my wife’s hand and tell her of my affection. I suppose that makes it a ‘chick flick.’

Of course, it was followed by Chinese food.

High Alert – Steffie Flies

We’re under a High Alert from the Department of Homeland Security. Hopefully, police and security agencies know what to do, but for us mere mortals there are few clues.

The official word is, “Go about your business.” Great. It’s like being told not to think about an elephant in pajamas. What else could you possibly think of after that?

If you boil this alert down to its essence, the only effect it’s having on the general public is to scare us. If we’re not supposed to do anything different, what other benefit is there?

Meanwhile, Steffie had reservations to fly to Florida and visit my folks. This was going to be our first experience with Southwest, after switching my frequent flier allegiance to them a few months ago.

Helaine and I never talked about it, but there was no point when we considered changing Steffie’s plans. I feel confident in the safety of air travel. Beyond that, it would seem a Southwest 737 from Hartford to West Palm Beach via Tampa would be a very unlikely target.

Speaking of Southwest, the report back from the airport was mostly positive. Helaine and Steffie got there early so Steffie could be in “Group A” under Southwest’s non-reserved seating policy. Depending on when you check in, you’re assigned A, B or C. A’s board first and have their choice of seats and overhead storage.

There had been a time when National Guardsmen inspected cars on their way to the parking garage at Bradley Airport. Not so today when you’d expect it.

Southwest is in the new terminal at Bradley and Helaine reports it’s bigtime. Southwest allows three bags at 70 pounds apiece, so Steffie was easily accommodated. Helaine asked for, and was quickly issued, a gate pass, so she could stay with Steffie while she waited to board. We were expecting good, friendly service from Southwest and weren’t disappointed.

Once onboard, in row 7, Steffie called Helaine to let her know things were fine. The next call came after arriving in Tampa. All I got was a reply to my cellphone text message. Without going into the entire message, I’m a loser.

It’s OK. It was said with love. I think.

Steffie’s flight made it on time. Now, she gets a full week of being spoiled (and listening to A&E at stun level volume) with my folks.

The house will be eerily quiet, and though Steffie and I are often at odds, I will miss her.

Playing Poker – 2 At a Time

I tried something a little different tonight. I played two games of poker at once. Helaine told me she had heard about others doing it… usually managing to slow down either or both of those games in the process.

With that in mind, as a goal to avoid, I entered a $5.50 one table tournament and the $1 affair that begins at 11:30 PM.

It is a little unnerving to play two at a time, but doable. At the beginning of a game, when there are 9 at your table, things are slow. Often you can set your action before the bet gets to you. Let’s face it, most of the time you’ll be folding and you’ll know that as soon as you’re dealt your first two cards.

The $5.50 game started about 20 minutes before the $1 tournament. So by the time the tournament began, the $5.50 table had lost a few players and was moving at a much swifter pace.

Pokerstars software brings a table’s window to the top of your stack if action is called for. That comes in handy. There were only a few times when both tables needed me at once. I don’t remember playing a live hand on both tables at the same time. If I did, it wasn’t much of an overlap.

I did make the decision that the $5.50 table would take precedence if things got hairy, and I found myself watching that table more than the larger tournament. It was a strange game once we got to six. We were tightly bunched. In fact, we were tight enough to go from worst to first on a single win. That happened to me and probably others as well.

By four, one player was totally dominating the chips. He had over $10,000 with the other three splitting the remaining $3,500. The leader broke the fourth player, so we went to three with two of us nearly tapped out. By that time the antes were $400/$200.

Number three went in a few hands. By that time I didn’t even have $400 for the big blind. I won two in a row going all in before the flop. Finally, on the third hand, I went down too.

So, $5.50 invested and $13.50 returned for an $8.00 net. And, I was still live on the $1 tournament… but only barely.

I never really got excited in that game, probably because I never had cards. In a tournament like that, you need to be skillful and lucky. I did make one tactical error early, going in on a hand I should have folded. From there on in it was downhill.

I ended up finishing 444th out of 1068. No one above 99th was getting paid. Even then, if you outgunned 967 others to get paid it would only be $1.60, or 60&#162 net!

The ‘real’ money goes to the top-5, with $267.01 to the grand prize winner.

I haven’t mentioned where we stand recently. We had gone up $10 over our original stake and then, the wheels fell off the wagon. No matter what we got, no matter what we played, we lost. Earlier this week we had gone down nearly $150 from our original buy-in. As of tonight, we are down $102.40.

Considering we’ve been doing this since mid-August and the house takes 10% of each one or two table tournament entry we make, I think we’ve had some pretty cheap fun.

I’ll say this much… I am very much looking forward to our yearly trip to Las Vegas. I have more table time in the last three months than in the rest of my poker playing days. I was always able to hold my own at the low stakes tables in Vegas. I never won over the long run, but I never got hurt. It might be different now. I am much more disciplined and much better able to read the table, though still not the other players.

New York City trip – The Producers

Ivy the dog is still in the hospital There was some improvement today, which I’ll get to later. Still, Helaine felt it was best for her to stay home… and she did.

Steffie and I took our three tickets to see The Producers, got in the car around 9:00AM, and headed into New York City. After Dunkin’ Donuts and gas (there’s a joke here somewhere), we hit the open road, convertible top down.

This was actually risky. The mostly cloudy sky turned overcast as we moved west from Bridgeport (In Connecticut, the east-west Connecticut Turnpike is labeled north-south. This makes a geographically challenged adult population even more confused). I expected to have to pull over, under an underpass, at any moment to get the top up. But, by the time we hit the Cross Bronx Expressway, the sun had returned and the air began to get steamy.

The trip to New York, though shared with lots of other cars, was never hampered by traffic.

We followed the CBE to the West Side Highway (following the Last Exit in New York signs) and headed south along the Hudson River. The view to New Jersey was a little hazy. The river itself was pretty empty.

I parked the car ($30, thank you) on West 44th Street, just west of 8th Avenue. I always put up the top when parking, even in attended parking, and that was a good thing, since it later rained.

It was near 11:00 AM and the show wasn’t until 2:00 PM, so we headed into the subway at the corner and went downtown to Canal Street.

For some unknown reason, I thought the IRT #1 train would be the closest (it wasn’t). I mention this, because the subway stairs at 8th and 44th bring you to the 8 Avenue Line IND station with connecting corridors to the IRT (mentioning IND and IRT only helps to show I’m getting older. These labels, a throwback to the era when some subways lines were privately owned, haven’t been used in decades.) It seemed like we were walking to Canal Street as the narrow, tiled, dingy, hot tubes led up and down, left and right, until we were on the downtown platform. We took the express a few stops and then walked across the platform to take the #1 to Canal.

New Yorkers leave the city in droves during the summer, and I’m sure that’s especially true for Labor Day weekend. At the same time tourists pour in. Canal Street was jammed.

Maybe I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m sure Kate Spade, Christian Dior or Louis Vuitton (is there really a Louis Vuitton?) would clutch their collective chests and fall to the ground in cardiac arrest if they ever saw Canal Street. Everything is a knock off… but a nearly perfect knock off.

When a bag says Prada on the outside, it also has Prada on the hardware and Prada “franked” on the leather inside. It’s a pretty thorough job.

Today, I actually stopped as I bought a bottle of Poland Springs water from a vendor, thinking maybe it too wasn’t the real thing. Hey, it’s Canal Street, who knows?

I continue to look, to no avail, for a Breitling combination analog/LCD watch. Obviously, Breitling has them, but that’s a little out of my price range for a watch… maybe not for a car, but for a watch.

Steffie went bag, wallet and shoe shopping. Is it an obsession? Sure. There should be some 12 step program to get her back on the right track. But, at least on Canal Street you can indulge your fantasy. She bought a few things, including some shoes she had been lusting after.

I found a few computer books. One was on Perl, a computer language (which will not make my spell checker happy) used on websites like this one, that I want to learn. The second had to do with Cascading Style Sheets. Again, it’s a concept used on this website and something I had heard about for years without understanding. Like Perl, if I’m going to administer this site, I need to learn at least a little bit about it. Books on Canal Street go for 1/2 retail price or a little less.

A few Canal Street observations. There is a street side display ad for Tag Heuer watches. These watches are sold on Canal Street… they’re just not real. It’s an odd place for an ad like this.

Canal Street is old and tired. There hasn’t been new construction here since the 1930’s or maybe earlier. Little shops are crammed into spaces no larger than a small closet. And, my guess is, this was never an upscale neighborhood, even back in the day. That’s why it was interesting to see beautiful detail work on some of the older industrial buildings.

Finally, even in the midst of urban congestion, people find comfort in things growing. I found this ‘city garden’ on a fire escape. There’s no doubt it’s against fire code, but it is nice to see.

With a 2:00 PM curtain, we headed back into the subway and north to the 42 Street stop on the E train. Up the stairs and, astoundingly enough, we were a half a block from the theater. But, there was a problem. We had Helaine’s ticket!

A try outside the theater yielded nothing. It didn’t seem like the right place to sell it. So, we headed to the TKTS booth in Duffy Square. This is where you’d likely find people looking for tickets, and Producers tickets were always tough to come by.

I walked parallel to the line at TKTS. “Single ticket to The Producers.” Once, twice, three times… and then as I was about to try one more time, Steffie turned me to a woman in line who was interested. She asked how much? I hadn’t thought about it, so asked her to make me an offer. She said half, and the deal was done.

As it turned out, she was Japanese, in New York by herself (though she said she had friends there) and had only come in earlier in the day. She was about to sit dead center in the 6th row, and I was subsidizing 50% of the cost.

The Producers was excellent. It is everything the movie was, though the story has been adapted and simplified for the stage. The current cast is considered “B” next to Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane. Even then, like most New Yorkers, some of the biggest players were out-of-town, replaced by stand-ins. Lewis J. Stadlen, the lead, was replaced by John Treacy Egan, which meant Egan was also covered by an understudy.

I would very much like to see the show again, with Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick. As the originators of Bialystock and Bloom, and with the theatrical clout to be a little ‘over the top’, my guess is they bring the show up a few notches.

The dialog and sensibility of the show was pure Mel Brooks. You could hear his voice in nearly every line. And, in fact, his voice was heard (lip sync’ed by an actor) during Springtime for Hitler; “Don’t be stupid, be a Smarty – sign up with the Nazi Party!” I believe he did this line in the film as well.

Brad Musgrove as the astoundingly gay Carmen Ghia was a hoot. He got the biggest ovation of the non-principals.

After the play broke, we headed away from the car, and back toward Times Square. Steffie wanted a henna tattoo, which we never found.

We did see a few things in Times Square that you only see in Times Square. The most notable is the “Naked Cowboy.” It is, stripped to its essence, a man wearing a cowboy hat, boots and underwear. That’s it. He charges to pose for photos, and does a pretty brisk business.

For the cowboy challenged, there was also Spiderman, available for a price. In the spirit on New York, I doubt any of his take goes to the copyright owner.

What we did find was rain! What had been a sprinkle as we left the theater turned into a downpour. We were near 42nd Street by this point, so we headed to the ESPN Zone. With a 30 minute wait, we turned back up Broadway and ended up at Planet Hollywood.

When in Times Square, Steffie and I eat at Planet Hollywood more often than not. The food was fine, but more importantly, the restaurant was dry. We were soaked when we got in. Luckily, the camera, books, bags, shoes and the like were in plastic bags. Steffie’s purse had been outside, but tonight, it seemed none the worse for water.

We headed back to the car, only to run into the New York City Fire Department. Something was going on above West 44th Street. Four or five pieces of fire rolling stock and at least a dozen, firefighters (each wearing oxygen packs) stood around chatting as a ladder was extended from a truck and two firefighters climbed to the roof of the theater adjacent to the St. James (where The Producers plays).

If there was cause for alarm, it was well hidden. No one was breaknig a sweat. Steffie wanted to stay and watch, which we did for a few minutes. But, as time went on, it became clear that whatever was going on, was going on out of sight… and wasn’t all that dramatic.

By 6:00 we were in the car, turned north on 8th Avenue, and headed home… with the top down.

Best of New Haven Advocate

Ivy the dog is still in the hospital There was some improvement today, which I’ll get to later. Still, Helaine felt it was best for her to stay home… and she did.

Steffie and I took our three tickets to see The Producers, got in the car around 9:00AM, and headed into New York City. After Dunkin’ Donuts and gas (there’s a joke here somewhere), we hit the open road, convertible top down.

This was actually risky. The mostly cloudy sky turned overcast as we moved west from Bridgeport (In Connecticut, the east-west Connecticut Turnpike is labeled north-south. This makes a geographically challenged adult population even more confused). I expected to have to pull over, under an underpass, at any moment to get the top up. But, by the time we hit the Cross Bronx Expressway, the sun had returned and the air began to get steamy.

The trip to New York, though shared with lots of other cars, was never hampered by traffic.

We followed the CBE to the West Side Highway (following the Last Exit in New York signs) and headed south along the Hudson River. The view to New Jersey was a little hazy. The river itself was pretty empty.

I parked the car ($30, thank you) on West 44th Street, just west of 8th Avenue. I always put up the top when parking, even in attended parking, and that was a good thing, since it later rained.

It was near 11:00 AM and the show wasn’t until 2:00 PM, so we headed into the subway at the corner to head to Canal Street.

For some unknown reason, I thought the IRT #1 train would be the closest (it wasn’t). I mention this, because the subway stairs at 8th and 44th bring you to the 8 Avenue Line IND station with connecting corridors to the IRT (mentioning IND and IRT only helps to show I’m getting older. These labels, a throwback to the era when some subways lines were privately owned, haven’t been used in decades.) It seemed like we were walking to Canal Street as the narrow, tiled, dingy, hot tubes led up and down, left and right, until we were on the downtown platform. We took the express a few stops and then walked across the platform to take the #1 to Canal.

New Yorkers leave the city in droves during the summer, and I’m sure that’s especially true for Labor Day weekend. At the same time tourists pour in. Canal Street was jammed.

Maybe I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m sure Kate Spade, Christian Dior or Louis Vuitton (is there really a Louis Vuitton?) would clutch their collective chests and fall to the ground in cardiac arrest if they ever saw Canal Street. Everything is a knock off… but a nearly perfect knock off.

Today, I actually stopped as I bought a bottle of Poland Springs water from a vendor, thinking maybe it too wasn’t the real thing. Hey, it’s Canal Street, who knows?

I continue to look, to no avail, for a Breitling combination analog/LCD watch. Obviously, Breitling has them, but that’s a little out of my price range for a watch… maybe not for a car, but for a watch.

Steffie went bag, wallet and show shopping. Is it an obsession? Sure. There should be some 12 step program to get her back on the right track. But, at least on Canal Street you can indulge your fantasy. She bought a few things, including some shoes she had been lusting after.

I found a few computer books. One was on Perl, a computer language (which will not make my spell checker happy) used on websites like this one, that I want to learn. The second had to do with Cascading Style Sheets. Again, it’s a concept used on this website and something I had heard about for years without understanding. Like Perl, if I’m going to administer this site, I need to learn at least a little bit about it. Books on Canal Street go for 1/2 retail price or a little less.

A few Canal Street observations. There is a street side display ad for Tag Heuer watches. These watches are sold on Canal Street… they’re just not real. It’s an odd place for an ad like this.

Canal Street is old and tired. There hasn’t been new construction here since the 1930’s or maybe earlier. Little shops are crammed into spaces no larger than a small closet. And, my guess is, this was never an upscale neighborhood, even back in the day. That’s why it was interesting to see beautiful detail work on some of the older industrial buildings.

Finally, even in the midst of urban congestion, people find comfort in things growing. I found this ‘city garden’ on a fire escape. There’s no doubt it’s against fire code, but it is nice to see.

With a 2:00 PM curtain, we headed back into the subway and north to the 42 Street stop on the E train. Up the stairs and, astoundingly enough, we were a half a block from the theater. But, there was a problem. We had Helaine’s ticket!

A try outside the theater yielded nothing. It didn’t seem like the right place to sell it. So, we headed to the TKTS booth in Duffy Square. This is where you’d likely find people looking for tickets, and Producers tickets were always tough to come by.

I walked parallel to the line at TKTS. “Single ticket to The Producers.” Once, twice, three times… and then as I was about to try one more time, Steffie turned me to a woman in line who was interested. She asked how much? I hadn’t thought about it, so asked her to make me an offer. She said half, and the deal was done.

As it turned out, she was Japanese, in New York by herself (though she said she had friends there) and had only come in earlier in the day. She was about to sit dead center in the 6th row, and I was subsidizing 50% of the cost.

The Producers was excellent. It is everything the movie was, though the story has been adapted and simplified for the stage. The current cast is considered “B” next to Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane. Even then, like most New Yorkers, some of the biggest players were out-of-town, replaced by stand-ins. Lewis J. Stadlen, the lead, was replaced by John Treacy Egan, which meant Egan was also covered by an understudy.

I would very much like to see the show again, with Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick. As the originators of Bialystock and Blum, and with the theatrical clout to be a little ‘over the top’, my guess is they bring the show up a few notches.

The dialog and sensibility of the show was pure Mel Brooks. You could hear his voice in nearly every line. And, in fact, his voice was heard (lip sync’ed by an actor) during Springtime for Hitler; “Don’t be stupid, be a Smarty – sign up with the Nazi Party!” I believe he did this line in the film as well.

Brad Musgrove as the astoundingly gay Carmen Ghia was a hoot. He got the biggest ovation of the non-principals.

After the play broke, we headed away from the car, and back toward Times Square. Steffie wanted a henna tattoo, which we never found.

We did see a few things in Times Square that you only see in Times Square. The most notable is the “naked cowboy.” It is, stripped to its essence, a man wearing a cowboy hat, boots and underwear. That’s it. He charges to pose for photos, and does a pretty brisk business.

For the cowboy challenged, there was also Spiderman, available for a price. In the spirit on New York, I doubt any of his take goes to the copyright owner.

What we did find was rain! What had been a sprinkle as we left the theater turned into a downpour. We were near 42nd Street by this point, so we headed to the ESPN Zone. With a 30 minute wait, we turned back up Broadway and ended up at Planet Hollywood.

When in Times Square, Steffie and I eat at Planet Hollywood more often than not. The food was fine, but more importantly, the restaurant was dry. We were soaked when we got in. Luckily, the camera, books, bags, shoes and the like were in plastic bags. Steffie’s purse had been outside, but tonight, it seemed none the worse for water.

We headed back to the car, only to run into the New York City Fire Department. Something was going on above West 44th Street. Four or five pieces of fire rolling stock and at least a dozen, firefighters (each wearing oxygen packs) stood around chatting as a ladder was extended from a truck and two firefighters climbed to the roof of the theater adjacent to the St. James (where The Producers plays).

If there was cause for alarm, it was well hidden. No one was breaknig a sweat. Steffie wanted to stay and watch, which we did for a few minutes. But, as time went on, it became clear that whatever was going on, was going on out of sight… and wasn’t all that dramatic.

By 6:00 we were in the car, turned north on 8th Avenue, and headed home… with the top down.