Post Sandy Post #1

Well, it’s been one hell of week here in NJ and for much of the east coast. The wrath of Sandy was one for the history books. I hope everyone effected by the storm is doing as well as can be expected and that you did not suffer too much damage.

I have lots of thoughts about this storm but for this post, going to stick with some photos from my home and the area. Here’s our house the morning after.At about 10 PM the night of the storm, we heard the sound of breaking glass. Never a good thing during a hurricane. So I did what any red-blooded American male would do. I got dressed and went outside to assess the damage, while Linda screamed at me that I was crazy. The branch that is laying on the ground in the photo above, was actually kissing my car. Luckily, the glass that we heard was from our lamp post that the spruce fell on. The good news is our peeing boy of Belgium got a new hat.

As can be expected during these types of events, the response from the utility company was slow, and that’s being kind. We live in Short Hills, which has many big houses and many more big, old trees. Last year during Irene and the October snowstorm, our area sustained tremendous damage but those 2 storms combined don’t come close to the devastation we sustained from Sandy. Below is a photo of one of the main streets leading up to the Short Hills Train Station.

I took this picture on Wednesday, 2 days after the storm. Today is Saturday and that area looks pretty much the same.
Earlier today, we took a walk in South Mountain Reservation behind Old Short Hills Park, a heavily wooded area with miles of walking trails. This is something Cosmo and I (and sometimes Linda) do almost every weekend, and I go snowshoeing in there when there is snow (yes, Jews do know how to snowshoe). I was amazed last year at the devastation that took place after the 2 storms that hit our area but you can add those 2 storms together, multiply by a factor of 5 – 10 and that’s what I saw today. A week after Irene, the trails were better than 50% cleared of trees, branches and debris. Today…well a picture is worth a thousand words.

Behind that mass of tree trunks and branches is a trail that I walk almost every weekend. Whereas last year the trails were cleared in a week or two, I’m thinking this is going to take months to clean up. The good news is, Cosmo has a new obstacle course to play on. In times like this, you need to find joy in the simple things in life – family, friends, community and the smile of a happy dog:
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10151229388087320

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My Eternal Flame

I like fire. Not in a crazy arson kind of way but in a warm, spiritual sense. At our home, we have plenty of candles, various candle holders and a small collection of hurricane lamps, which came in very handy last year during the blackouts after Hurricane Irene and the October snow storm.

For the past few days, a different kind of candle has been burning in my house – a memorial candle for my mom who passed away last Wednesday. The candle and light symbolize the body and soul, as it is written in the Book of Proverbs  – “Man’s soul is the Lord’s candle.”  In case you are wondering, I got that quote from a google search, not because of my Biblical knowledge.

This candle brings a different sort of spirituality into my home and I look at this candle differently than any other candle or flame I have ever seen before. It brings me sadness but at the same time I see my mother in that flame. She was bright and warm, life flickered and danced within her, and she illuminated the world.

In a few days, the light from the candle will fade but my mother’s flame never will. I will carry my mother and her eternal flame with me for all the rest of my days. When the memorial candle finally goes out, I will continue to light candles and hurricane lamps, and stare at the flame within. In each flicker, I will see my mother knowing that she continues to light my world as my own eternal flame.

One of those weeks

Did you ever have one of those days or moments or weeks when you just start thinking to yourself “what next?” Last few daze have been like that.  Nothing catastrophic, just little things that are piling up on my pysche.

Let’s start with last Friday night, when my MacBook decided it just wasn’t going to turn back on. Spent an hour trying to fix it but nothing. Finally, after just leaving it alone for an hour or so, I hit the power button and up comes a white screen (not the usually blue screen or full color desktop screen) with little blips that count up and the machine comes back on. So happy until Saturday morning when the story gets repeated and it’s off to the Apple store, where they tell me $310 and we will call you in 3 – 5 days. Nothing like having your whole life taken away from you…at least the digital version of it.

Good news is The Orange are playing in MetLife Stadium and it’s tailgate time.  Too bad it rained during the early part of the tailgate, the 2nd half was delayed by severe weather and eventually we lost the game despite a good effort. Not a bad day, just wish Ma Nature had been a bit more cooperative.

Now comes Monday and I’m off to the gym. One last check of emails before I start my workout and email screen on my iPhone is frozen. The phone is working fine, emails are coming in but I can’t do anything with screen. Easy fix just reboot the phone and it’s done but still another little annoyance.

Wednesday comes and my MacBook is fixed. Hooray! Off to the Apple store to see that everything is in working order and it is…or so I think. Bring the Mac back to the office, plug in the Time Machine back-up drive only to find out that I can’t back-up my files. Why is this? Glad you asked. Seems that when you replace the mother board, Time Machine thinks you’ve gotten a new computer because the ID numbers has changed…or something like that. My Time Machine back-up drive is looking for the old computer but only sees the new one because of the new mother board. Again, easily fixed for $90 and a new external hard drive. Just another little annoyance.

But the worst part of all of this is that for the very first time in my life, I couldn’t find my car in the parking lot at the mall. Could have sworn I parked on the yellow level but actually parked a level up.  I guess the excitement of having my digital life back was too much for me. Took me about 10 minutes to figure this out, which just really annoyed me and not just a little.

For those who know me, you all know that I have a savant like long term memory. Short term memory…not so much. Pretty sure I know what caused that but why dig up the past. You’d think all those brain cells I was killing way back when would be the memories I already had and was having at the time but for some strange reason, I’ve got all of those. The mind works in mysterious ways, just wish mine would have remembered where I parked the damn car.

The Summer of ’69

For those of you expecting my riff on Brian Adams or maybe something perverted (you know….69), sorry to disappoint. The recent passing of Neil Armstrong gave me one of those “where were you when” moments, and it got me thinking to the summer of 1969, hence the title.  Come to think of it, I could have also written this under the title of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.

1969 was my first year at sleep-away. I went to Camp Lenox in the Berkshires, a place of endless wonder to me even to this day. Many years later, my daughter Allie and my son Zach would follow in my footsteps, and make their own magic on that Berkshire Mountain high.

The owner of Camp Lenox was Monty “Coach” Moss, who still helps run the camp alongside his son Rich (a.k.a. Shiek, Rico, R. Moss, Pete, Oxygen Man) who was my counselor for 2 years and is a life long friend. To this day, if you ask Coach what was the worst summer of his career in the camping industry, he will tell you it was 1969, which I will get to in a moment.

But let’s start with the good. My first year at camp was a wonderful experience. I made friends, some of whom I’m still friends with some 40+ years later, I had great fun, and my summer was topped off when I was elected Color War Captain for my group. I can still walk into the Camp Lenox Dining Hall and see my name on the Color War plaque.

As for the “where you were when” moment, I remember watching the Apollo 11 mission on a small, fuzzy, black and white TV in the counselors lounge. The TV signal probably was coming from an Albany TV station and reception in those days was pretty bad but we sat and watched as history was made. I think of that moment every time I walk past the counselor’s lounge, which I did as recently as 4 weeks ago when Linda and I were up at camp to watch the opening day of Color War, so we could catch Zach in action as the General of The Orange Wild.

Now for the bad. Unfortunately, I also learned about death that summer. 2 counselors at camp, including my group leader, were killed in a single engine plane crash. Coach had to call all the parents to let them know and than inform the campers. The morning after the crash was damp and dreary (more on this later). I can still see Coach walking on the camp road towards our group line-up outside bunks 31 and 32 (32 being my bunk). I was only 9 at the time, and death was a new concept to me, but I knew that a life that had so touched mine in such a short period of time was gone. It’s a feeling I remember still.

As for the ugly, it rained, than it rained again, and than it rained some more. Of the 56 days of camp, it rained on 28 of them. Visiting day was spent playing games in the counselor’s lounge and in the lodge because it rained.

When all was said and done, despite the rain and the sadness, I returned to Camp Lenox for a total of  7 years and I still rue the day that my parents would not let me return for my last year as a camper, not to mention that I never returned as a counselor, a mistake neither of my children repeated.m

At my wedding, the best man was Eric, my life long friend, who I met at Lenox, when I was 10 years old. Eric, who is 6’4″ or so, wore boys size 20, 5 Year Lenox jacket. My sisters can be heard on the wedding video, singing the camp fight song in the background. 20 years later at Zach’s bar mitzvah, Rich, Eric and a few other Lenox alums were there to celebrate with us.

When I first returned to Lenox as an active alum and parent, the hairs on the back of my neck would stand-up. That sensation has worn off but not the wonder, the feeling that I can recapture a part of my youth walking the camp grounds.

So Mr. Armstrong, I’d like to thank you. In life and in your passing, you are an inspiration. You’ve brought back wonderful memories of that day in the counselors’ lounge and of the magical summer of 1969.

The Book Of Romney – Chapter 1

In the show The Book of Mormon, our reluctant deity Arnold is a Mormon missionary who doesn’t really know the first thing about his religion. In trying to convert the African villagers, he throws in liberal doses of science fiction and fantasy including Star Wars, Star Trek and Lord of the Rings and they soak up every word as if it were actually the word of God. At the end of the show, we are introduced to the the Book of Arnold. A great depiction of modern religion if you ask me.  Equal parts faith, fantasy and the SyFy channel.

Which brings me to Mitt Romney. Again, my standard political disclaimer. I’m a moderate and not registered to any political party accept my own, the Common Sense Party but let’s move on to Mitt and his utter lack of common sense.  In The Book of Romney, our man Mitt just can’t see to get out of his own way. I’m wondering if the republicans knew then what they know now if he would be the nominee? I know that many of my right-of-center friends are having serious doubts and it seems so are some in the conservative media. His faith was always a big concern with the flaming right wing Christian conservatives who do not view Mormonism as a real religion but now it seems like Mitt is hiding lots of goodies that could prove fatal to his campaign. Every day comes some sort of revelation that he or his campaign have to defend.

As near as I can tell, his campaign has become a one trick pony (or so it seems to me), that being the only thing he can say is the economy would have been better, faster if he were now president. Here’s a question I have for you Mitt.  Exactly whose economy are you talking about? Ours because I don’t ever hear you talking about jobs you’ve created in America. You talk about American companies you’ve saved but not American workers. If you did save American jobs, where are they and why don’t you show some of them off? But in the Book of Romney, companies are people too so, I guess that’s good enough for Mitt.

And in the Book of Romney, Mitt walks through the streets of America covered in a holy cloak…The Shroud of Bain, in which you can clearly see the image of young man suffering with the burden of off shore bank accounts and all those tax returns he knows he can’t make public. Mitt, I gotta tell ya, by not disclosing those tax returns you are telling me everything I need to know because what you are hiding has to be a hell of lot worse than the consequences of revealing exactly what’s in Chapter 1040 of The Book of Romney.

Well children, that’s enough of The Book of Romney for today. Look for upcoming chapters as we follow Mitt on his quest to become president of the USA. Chapters to include Ann Romney – Is She The Only One and Why Do All The Romney Sons Look Approximately The Same Age. Until then, here’s hoping Mitt ends up exactly where he belongs…Orlando.

Memo to the Boy Scouts

Dear Mr. Leader of the Boy Scouts,

I have a little story to tell you. Many years ago, I rented a house from a very nice, very single gentleman. I’m going to call him Tom. From time-to-time, Tom would stop by our house to make sure everything was OK. One of these times, he was returning from a Boy Scouts camping weekend, as he was a scout leader. Tom was single and had no children, let alone any boys. I never gave it a second thought except thinking that it was great that he was involved in such a worthwhile organization.

A couple of years after we moved in, Tom stopped by our house with his “friend” who happened to be another man and it was pretty obvious this “friend” was gay. Let’s call him John. I like that…Tom and John. I guess at this point Tom came out of the closet.

Eventually the two of them moved back into that house and we moved up the block to another rental. We’d see them all the time, helped decorate their Christmas tree and even helped them out when Tom was injured in a motorcycle accident. My son was probably 3 or 4 years old at that time and he got a big kick out of the headless statue in the living room complete with stuffed jock strap. I’m sure you’d love it too.

The elderly neighbors really liked John, who was very helpful, just like a boy scout. We’d see him mowing the lawns, working in the garden and taking care of things around the house. Not only at his house but at the neighbors too. You would have loved his uniform. Black leather work boots, black leather hot pants and a black leather cap. On warm days, he wouldn’t wear his shirt but he did wear his medals of honor, 2 silver nipple rings.

Eventually Tom and John split up and moved out of the neighborhood. We spoke to them once or twice but eventually lost touch. It’s really too bad because I’d love to know if Tom is still involved with your organization and how he feels about your policy excluding gays. Personally, I think it sucks but I’ve learned that there is justice in the universe. Pretty sure this ruling will come back to bite you in the ass someday…or maybe someplace a little more personal.

Sincerely,

Ira Berkowitz

Common Sense Cell Phone Ban

This morning I was driving to work behind someone who was most definitely a distracted driver. When we got to a light in town and I pulled up next to him, the reason became clear. He was texting on his cell phone.

As many of you know, I constantly bitch about folks who drive and use their cell phones at the same time. When presented with the opportunity, I’ve actually been known to politely (cough, cough) ask these folks to not use their cell phones and drive at the same time. Time for a disclaimer before I continue: I do talk on my cell phone but only in some sort of hands free mode and I do not text or read emails while driving.

Recently there has been some discussion on a total ban on cell phone usage while driving a car. Who are these people kidding? Ain’t gonna happen, no how, no way.

There some towns, cities and states that do have some sort of cell phone use restriction laws on the books, which don’t work because they ain’t enforced. If I were to go stand outside my office, on the corner of Millburn Avenue and Main Street, in a  few minutes dozens of cars would drive by with drivers holding their cell phones while talking on the car, which is illegal in the state of New Jersey. Problem is it’s a secondary offense, $100 fine, no vehicle or insurance points assessed, so no teeth in this law. When school lets out, that corner is manned by township police, which does not stop this offense from taking place. They are more concerned with getting the young folks across the street safely, as they should be.

When it comes to these types of issues, my mantra has always been “common sense.” In this case, common sense tell us you cannot stop people from talking on their cell phones while driving. It is now as common as eating, drinking or listening to the radio while driving. Hell, folks driving with their dog in their lap is the craziest and most unsafe thing I can think of, if you want my opinion (and doesn’t everyone want my opinion). The car manufacturers make cars with hands free technology, and millions and millions have dollars have gone into the goods needed so that folks can drive and talk at the same time.

However, common sense also tells us that you cannot be looking at your cell phone and typing on your cell phone while driving a car. If you have ever driven behind someone attempting to do this, the results are pretty obvious. So what should we do? Simple, enforce the existing laws in states that already have them, create new laws where they don’t and put some teeth into. Big fines, points, suspended licenses for multiple offenders.

Now about that doggie in the car window…

The Company You Keep

This is one that’s been bouncing around inside me for quite some time but I just couldn’t bring myself to throw this one out there….until now.  Before I continue I need to state that all the names you will read have clearly been changed, not all examples cited relate directly to me (others having told me similar relationship issues they have) and I may overstate things for dramatic effect (but who doesn’t).  Oh, and I think some folks out there are not going to be happy with me (if they believe I’m talking about them and can prove it) but what the hell. Let’s begin.

Groucho Marx stated that “I would never want to be a member of any club that would have me as a member.” I’m going to make this a little more personal and say “I would never want to be friends with anyone who would have ____________ (you can fill in the blank) as a friend.” There are a lot of things that I can look at that have effected my friendships over the years:  I don’t like their spouse, their spouse doesn’t like me (I know, hard to believe), our kids don’t get along, we don’t belong to the same club anymore, distance, divorce (you always have to choose sides) growing apart, yada, yada, yada.

A few months back, I had a conversation with my friend Woody (remember, not his real name) where I asked him how one of his friends was. He told me that he doesn’t really speak to Buzz, that they didn’t really socialize because he didn’t like Buzz’s other friends and he always had one of them in tow. When it came down to it, he realized that he had outgrown Buzz.

I thought that was interesting and began to wonder if Linda and I had any friends that we didn’t see for that same reason. The answer was yes and no. Yes, we see these people but we probably don’t see them as much because of the whole “other couples” thing. As some of you may know, I’m not shy about stating my feelings and opinions on these types of matters, so if I don’t like someone, there’s a good chance other people have been informed of who and why folks are on my shit list.

When Bob and Carol tell us they are going out with Ted and Alice (who I really want to have nothing to do with) and would we like to join them, we say no. But what I really started thinking about was does the fact that, if Bob and Carol really do like Ted and Alice, what does that say about me? If, in my humble opinion, Bob and Carol have such bad taste in their other friends, do I really want to be one of their friends.  If I consider Ted and Alice less than worthy human beings and Bob and Carol put us in their same friendship bed, am I less than worthy as well?

This topic came up recently when my friend Luke and I were talking about our mutual friend Han. We always questioned Han’s taste in woman but he has some friends that we really don’t like, including Leia who is a real princess. Does Han’s relationship with Leia make Luke and I less of a force? Not really and in the end, we agreed that Han was a well loved friend but he had some issues picking out friends, especially when his Schwartz was involved.

What I’ve come to decide is you just have to take people as they are. If you ask most of my friends, who the most obnoxious person they know is, chances are that I’m close to the top of that list but they still love me and value my friendship. So I guess I’m in in no position to judge other people based on who else they choose to spend their time with.

Ira In The Morning

I have a confession to make. I am not a morning person. There, I’ve finally admitted this publicly. Actually, it’s really no big secret. Linda will tell you I’m one lazy shit when it comes to crawling out of bed most every morning. Hey, it’s not like I commute into the city. Sleeping late is one of the many benefits of having your office 2 miles from you house.

Anyone who has ever heard one of my many Iraisms knows that my favorite one is “There used to be 3 things that got me up before dawn: Skiing, golf and sex. Now there’s only golf.” Unfortunately, middle age has added a new twist to that statement. It’s now golf and my bladder. Most nights (or mornings depending on how you look at things), right around 4 or 5 AM, the urge hits, I stumble out of bed, into the bathroom, relieve the urge and stumble right back into bed.

Lately, this is where the trouble begins. Getting to sleep at night doesn’t seem to be an issue but getting back to sleep after the late night/early morning jaunt to El Juan is. Toss, turn, toss some more, look at the clock, turn some more, side, back, front, upside down, look at the clock, again. It’s like something a well choreographed scene out of A Chorus Line – Step, kick, kick, leap, kick, touch…Again!

Now the problem is I not only do I now I’m going to wake up but now I worry about getting back to sleep. I even worry about getting back to sleep before I go to sleep in the first place.  And when I do wake-up, my head spins round and round like a top.  Work stuff, ideas for client projects, am I going loony, what should I write my next blog on and why don’t I write more often, is this male menopause, I wonder how my folks are doing, I wonder how my kids are doing, I wonder what the hell I’m doing up at this hour and how does Linda sleep through my all this?

I guess this is just another one of life’s phases that is now part of the nightly routine. I really preferred it when sex was one of the options of that “got me up before dawn.”