a Year in review

Mood... Sad and yet happy
Song of the day, Skid Row, I remember you

It has been a year since Gundy passed. An entire year. It is still very hard to believe. I had a phone call today from his other friend, Ray Smith. Ray really put my mind and heart at ease. There were questions I had and he very patiently answered me. We never met, we only know each other through stories that Gundy told each of us.

So. I learned my beloved friend learned to text. The little shit. I am having a beer. Please excuse my language. I'm still angry with him for the way it went down... him being Gundy. But, yet, I have to smile. He learned to text. The very last conversation I had with him was when I went to NY when Grandma had passed away. He came over one night that I was there and he met my kids and visited with my family, and most important he visited with me. He made it OK that Gram had passed and I was not "home" when it happened. We stayed up late and talked. He left somewhere around 3am. That was the last I saw him. A few months later I called the New Baltimore gas station and he yelled at me. It was something about having a cell phone shoved down his throat. I thought.. he was yelling at me.. What I heard him tell the other person in the booth was, "This is why I don't answer the phone at home, because  people get on it and want to talk." I hung up and never tried to contact him again. I am very thin skinned and do not take rejection well. But his friend, told me that Rich actually took to the cell phone and became an avid texter. I love to text. I'd have loved to wear him out on it.

I also learned that he got to see the new (F**king) Mets stadium. That Ray took him and he thought it was neat. Gundy thought everything was neat. That was his thing. If he really liked it, he called it neat. I choked on tears when Ray said it. He said it like Richard, and I'm not sure if Ray knew how life sometimes mimics art and at that exact moment... they were one. One with the word neat.

I have to recant on my prior post. I'd written it when I was grief stricken. I was talking to Ray and suddenly the night Gundy and I met came to clear focus. Yes it was foggy and it was dark. Scott C and I had broken up and I made a point to leave the hot shops after the pack because I just did not want to be near Scott or our mutual friends. Thin skinned. I'd cut across the NB parking lot and was about to Jump the guardrail and Gundy appeared next to me and spoke. Something like, "I don't like you walking across the parking lot alone." and I missed the guard rail with my hand and went ass over tea kettle over it; ending in a face plant in the parking lot. I then got up and started to run for my car. Gundy in pursuit. "I'm not going to hurt you. I work out here..." and other calming words being howled my way and me running blindly for my car. I unlocked the door and broke the door handle on that Dodge Charger. I turned to face my foe knowing I was dead. And it was then that I recognized who he was. It was then that I felt OK and knew he was the gentle giant that worked in the NB gas booth whenever he could.

Let us talk about the day of damnation. The day that sealed the pact that we were friends and there was nothing that " life the universe and everything - Douglas Adams" that could be done about it. We were across the Hudson at a car show. I'm thinking down around Rhinebeck. It was suppose to be 60' that day and windy. And it wasn't. He showed up at God's hour, or before 11am anyway. I had school the prior day and worked the 3-11 at one job and over night at the fox run. We had agreed to leave about 1pm. He showed up. Picked my ass up and threw me in the pool. Good morning Jenn. Yea, F U too.  Well he didn't quite throw me into the pool because I was fighting him by the time he carried me that far and yelling that if your going to wake me up to show the F up with coffee. So, my head got dunked over the side of the pool a few times with him laughing hysterical. yea.  So I took a quick shower and got dressed. We wore Jeans, T-shirts, and brought our flannels JUST in case. We ate when we got there. Well. Here is what happened. We were there about 30 minutes and clouds rolled in and the wind kicked up. I took his keys and ran to the truck and grabbed our flannels and met back up with him at the vendor area. We pulled on our flannels at the same time. I happened to hit my boob. Let me back up a second. My boob's grew in in middle school. I went from a training bra to a C cup and they were not firm. They were big squishy things. So, I was rather shocked when my arm whacked one and it was firm. I kinda stopped. Squished my boob a few times. By that time he'd turned and was watching me. His story was he was talking to me and walking and I wasn't there. Yea... peep show... lol. Anyway, he yells, "We are in PUBLIC, what in the hell are you doing?" and I leaned over and told him. He casually leans in and squishes my boob. Makes eye contact with me. and very earnestly states, "It feels like a boob to me, let me feel the other..." And squished the other. The other was still very firm because it had not been squished by warm hands a few times. He opened his mouth to say something, looked around, turned beet red, put his arm around me and walked me away mumbling about the people gawking. I looked around and there were like 5 people looking all aghast. Needless to say...he did pick on me forever and a day over that one.

There was baseball. We always promised to catch a subway series (even tho I didn't like either team) together. And he always went without me. I'd get so mad. But the first year we talked of it was the year I worked for the parks and rec in New Baltimore. We had a pilot program at the park out by my parents house. I went and hung out with the kids for 4 hours a day (between work and school and whatever young adult things I did). We scored free tickets for a few AC Yankee games. Daryl Strawberry was down because of his drugs (and what an ass he was) and the up and coming Derrick Jeter was there. Jeter stole my heart. He stopped and went under the yellow tape and knelt down and talked to the kids and signed what they had to offer for signatures. He said he would be a star some day. And he was so very cute. His eyes were soooooo very.... YUM. And then he tanked ME for bringing a car load to watch him play. I went to every AC Yank's game I could get tickets to. YUM YUM. I never met him after that time but I did enjoy going. So, that was what started the Subway series banter with us. Jeter got called up and I wanted to go and see him play with the big boys. Gundy said he'd only go if it was the subway series and he could see his boys play.

Gundy was a very private man about some things. Most things. We did have a tradition. I'm not sure when it started. And all stories prior faded in an instant. And all stories after held no Candle. It was the story when little Smitty got his Make A Wish. I never saw Rich cry. I never heard him speak softly. I never saw the twinkle in his eye like a new day. We were sitting at the dinning room table at my parents. It was my birthday. I'm thinking it was me being bummed about my birthday that started the tradition a few years prior. Anyway. Our tradition was to pick the best story of the year and retell it. Yes. A small speck of positiveness to break up the monotony of asshole relatives. I, didn't know about little Smitty. I pulled out the article (I'd cut it out of the paper and saved it.) and said, this is my fav story of the year. About a little boy I didn't know that had a serious medical condition and he got to meet the NY Yankee's. And that my attitude about the Yankee organization had done a U-turn. He looked at the article and grinned. It was just a little blurb I'd found reading the paper on a midnight shift. There was not much to it. I said, my only wish, would be to know more about it. How the kid felt. It had to have been the best day of his life.

Gundy, his eyes misted. He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. He then took a generous swig of his beer and got another one. "They showed up with Limos. The limos took little Smitty to NYC..." and the story went on. It felt like I was on the edge of a giant cliff. My heart was in my throat the entire time. Tears came freely. It was the BEST story ever. Then he said he wanted to tell me about little Smitty. And he told me the story of a little boy who was given a few years to live when he was born because of backwards organs. And he passed the few years. And that every year was a gift.

And every day is a gift. That is something in this day and age we really need to remember. You never know when your life will be taken from you. There is no room to be an ass. There is no room to not live each and every day to the fullest. It has taken me many years to understand this lesson.

I was friends with Gundy for 11 years. I left NY in the middle of the night in the middle of a snow storm and really did not look back until Gram died. It was like I suddenly grew up the day I had to go back to NY.

Favorite Christmas Story/Baseball Story

Song of the day, "Tears in Heaven" Eric Clapton

Quote of the day, "Cooperstown is the Greatest place on Earth" Bob Feller

Back in the day when I worked two jobs and went to college full time, oh and when I still had a heart and gave a crap about the world and it's going ons'. An curious thing happened. I was working my 2nd shift job at a gas station and one of the veteran employees came in and he said, "Jenn I need to tell you what I did on my days off." I said OK and listened and wept as Rich told me this story.

Background, Rich is a lifelong resident in Saugerties NY and a Mets fan. His neighbor and good friend Smitty had a son born with a genetic disorder where all his organs were in the mirror image of normal organs. All backwards even the heart was backwards and on the wrong side of the chest. Smitty was also the chief of police. His son had been entered in the "Make a Wish Foundation" and his number was up. He was 11 at the time and we will call him Little Smitty.

Little Smitty was not expected to live to see one say nothing about making it to the unheard of 11 years old. But a body born defective can only mature so far and then begin to compromise the promise of tomorrow. I know not the outcome of Little Smitty as I left New York and I weep as I write this.

His make a wish was drawn. His wish was to see a baseball game live. He loved the Yankee's. He is forgiven. He was only a kid. Boomer, Jeter, Strawberry, were all fresh. Joe was still catching and Darrell hadn't been busted for cocaine. And it was a night game in the fall. I remember there was the fear that little Smitty would come down with something.

A limo came to the house and took the Smittys and Rich to the ballgame. When they got there Little Smitty (not the entire family, just the one that counted) was invited to the dugout. He got to watch the game from the dugout! Lucky 4 star word. Joe talked baseball trash with him and Jeter tossed a ball with him and Boomer told him he could be a Yankee one day if he got his little butt better. They made the kids life. The Yankee's made a memory for me. They embraced this little boy and gave him the game of his life. They even won that night.

There were more words than that. The Story from Rich went well into the night. He kept remembering little things that they could see from their prime seats. In the end, it was good. Real Good. Little Smitty even got a Christmas Card that year signed from everyone on the team.

Cute Baseball Story

Song of the day: Take me out to the ball game

Quote of the day: "A baseball game is simply a nervous breakdown divided into nine innings." ~Earl Wilson (More Baseball quotes)

I played ball. I liked to get dirty. I liked the smell of clay soaked into sweat soaked skin. And that was only the first day I tried out way back in 3rd grade. Yes. You used to have to try out to make a ball team. Back when we were not a sensitive crowd. Back when there was no crying in baseball.

I can recall 3rd grade. Tryouts were up and coming. I'd been practicing with the boys on Juniper street in 29 Palms. Baseball season was the only time we took breaks from playing war and shooting each other up with BB guns. I had run into the 5th grade teacher, Mr Gimby, and he was singing "Take me out to the ball game" and there were a group of kids do-whopping around with him. I watched the whole course of the song. They finished up and he addressed my by common name, "Hey Kid, why didn't you sing along?" I introduced myself and informed him that I just made the team at Knotts Berry Park. Then I drew in breath of deep and blurted the horrible awful truth, "I didn't know the Dodgers had a theme song."

Let me back up a second. I was not stupid by any means. I was in the top of my class as far as brains and common sense went. I watched Baseball and the President on TV and once in awhile Felix the Cat. I'd just never heard the song.

"Well Kid (ignoring I had a name now) it is Baseballs Anthem and not the Dodgers theme song. But we all know the only team that plays good ball is the Dodgers."

I was not one to speak back to adults or grown up's in general. Spanking was allowed in schools, teachers were Gods, and parents were to be listened to and not argued with. I spoke. "I favor The Indians. They played good ball last week." And they had. We had a minor debate about players and stat's and he started to walk away.

"Hey Mr Gimby, will you teach me that song one day?" And he promised to jot the words down and pass them to me at recess if I promised to only sing it with the "Dodgers" and not some ambiguous team in his presence. I agreed.

Now as an adult I think of the song from time to time and you know what? I am an Avid Cardinals fan. Converted from being an Indians fan for over 30 years! To this day the words only sound right in my head with the Dodgers as the team of fame. It is their "theme" song.

The words he wrote down and I memorized were:

Take me out to the ball game
Take me out to the crowd
Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks
I don't care if I never come back
Because it's Root Root Root for the DODGERS
if they don't win it's a shame
Because IT's ONE TWO THREE STRIKES YOUR OUT
in the old ball game!

I hurt

I hurt. It started about noon today. I am just in so much pain, my back, my lower hips, up my back on the left side. UGH.

I wanted to take a minute to tell you about yesterday (Tuesday, October 21, 2008). I had another incident with Lulu and the police. This time, I was at fault 100%. Molly gave Lulu a penny (Why? I have no earthly clue.) I just so happened to catch a glimpse of that in the rear view mirror before the girls went to fighting over the penny. I did ask what was going on and Molly did tell me that she gave Lulu the penny. I asked her why and she retorted with the infamous, “I dunno.” And I grabbed a handful of junk mail off of my (as you have seen in prior pic’s) dashboard and chucked them at her and told her to trade Lulu something for the penny. Well, when I did this I ran over the yellow line a bit.

Well, GSP just so happened to be pulled off the shoulder on the opposite side of traffic when this happened. Wait; let me back up about a half a mile. I did deliberately swerve over the line to miss a Sprite box that was in the driving lane and it could have been full of cans, I didn’t want to take the chance but there was no oncoming traffic and it was a broken line on my side. So, there was a pretty good chance he saw both cases of swerving. And he wasted no time in turning around and getting behind me with the ominous blue lights flashing.

I slowed down and eased off the road (you have to be careful here because if you do this in the wrong spot, you’ll go in the ditch!) and came to a stop where I could be far enough off the shoulder so we and the cop did not get hit. He did the classic approach to the car, touching the left QP and all. He asked me if I knew why he’d pulled me over. I said, “Well, I know it wasn’t for speeding because I just crossed the 4 lane (southern lingo for the divided hwy with two lanes of traffic going in each direction) and I was going up the hill.” He smiled and asked for my license. Um, OK. I also grabbed my tag receipt (registration down here) and my insurance info. He just took the license. He looked at it and then at me. And boy was he ever a hottie! OOOOH.

“I pulled you over for swerving over the yellow line.” He stated.
“Oh, back there coming off the 4 lane? There is a sprite 12 pack in the road” (now mind you I was nervous and it didn’t really dawn on me that he was speaking of … Oh.. Where I did it right next to him!)
Officer- I didn’t see a soda box.
Me- I looked him dead in the eye and then in my rear view mirror. “It is right there, I can see it from here” And he trustingly turned and looked.
Officer – OH, well, no, I meant right there where you compromised the line right next to me.
Me- Yeah, that.
Officer – Well, what happened?
Me – I told him what I did.
Officer – Let the back window down.
I did and he looked in the window and verified the story with the girls. He asked Amanda If she did what I said.
Molly, “Yes sir.”
He asked Lulu if she was fighting with her sister.
Lulu- Yes.{Pause} Tazer?
Officer – No. And then he gives the girls a very short lecture about how they need to be good and not fight when Mommy is driving because mommy’s job is to pay attention to the road.
The kids both looked like they had been forced to swallow hard boiled rotten eggs. Molly was as white as a sheet; Lulu was leaning back in her car seat and staring at him. He asked if they understood.
Manners Molly – Yes sir.
Lulu –Yes. {very weak and quiet voice} tazer?
Me –{snorting down and choking on fits of laughter, eyes watering}
Officer-{suddenly at my window} Do you own a tazer?
Me – No, the girls watch COPS of G4.
Officer – Look me in the eye (the one thing I don’t want to do because I don’t really want to bust out laughing in the mans face, it is not his fault, he had nothing to do with this and I in no way shape or form want to show ANY IOTA of disrespect).
Me- I don’t think I can. (hopping he hears the strain of laughter in my voice) but I comply and look at him. He is as tickled as I am about the kids and he holds this serious GSP face but is eyes are glistening with tears. He hands me back my ID and tells me to please keep it between the lines esp. on hills. I thank him and we head out.

So, that is twice now in six months that Lulu has got a GSP officer. I reckon now they are going to start pulling me over to get a laugh or something.

Other then that I would like to know how much Obama is paying for this 24 hour paid ad on Dish Channel 73.

Lastly, I would like to hit on the topic of Paris Hilton and her BFF show. I succumbed and watched it again tonight. Hell, why not, it is clean entertainment. When it came down to elimination time and she asked the one girl who she would choose… Man, I wanted the young lady to get a back bone and say both of them. Honest to God. Although I think Ms Hilton is going about this BFF thing the wrong way, I do find this to be clean entertainment. This is very light weight stuff for Ms Hilton. I have really enjoyed watching this show. The few times they do show Ms Hilton, she does seem very real and very interesting. I still have problems with what she is looking for in a BFF, but the show is a good idea for her image. It has been kept very professional and I feel like I have a very different opinion about Ms Hilton. But, I am not stupid either. NAH NAH NAH, I know that there is a crew of highly paid people that are editing, air brushing, coaching, etc to keep this show clean and running smoothly. I know this. But on the same hand, Ms Hilton needs some credit for taking part in it and how she is displaying her image. She does get a lot of bad press and there are some very jealous people out there saying a lot of really negative things about her based on half truths and what they see but don’t really know. I see a person that I would be friends with if I met her tomorrow at college and didn’t know her from a hay seed. She has a really fun idea of life and likes to go where she is embraced in a positive manner (like the Japan show). She is coming off as playful (joking about the fried live baby chickens, WAS VERY FUNNY AND ORGINAL) as well as her genuine interest in how the competitors work under pressure (tonight’s show) and I am really getting wrapped up in watching this. If you go to MTV.com and search BFF you will find highlights of the show and a schedule of the show. No it is not a replacement for EUREKA! And I was working on my homework while watching that.

I also took a few minutes tonight to watch some of Game 1 of the big baseball game. That was fun. I haven’t got to watch Baseball in years and the game at inning 4 was still moving very fast.

Go Thome

One thing you would never expect of me is that I love Baseball. I used to be an avid follower and my most favorite player has always been Jim Thome. OK, let me qualify that. Jim played for the Cleveland Indians and I loved the Indians. I was a Chief Wahoo fan for as along as I can remember. Then Jim joined the team. I loved to watch him play. Wow. I would be all like, JIM marries me! He was awesome. I heard the radio news this morning. White Sox going to post season. And thanks to Thome's batting. WOOOHOOO. Go Jim, Go… Take the White Sox to the end. I was so happy. It reminded me of a few months ago. When baseball season opened this year I put a Jim Thome Rookie card up on E-bay. I put a reserve of $500 on it (mostly because I didn't want to part with it). I had someone email me a rude letter stating that Thome was not that good of a player. I emailed him back to check his stat's. Plus this card has always been kept in a plastic cover. So, I didn't sell the card, but …. Hmmmm…. Should I now?