Frampton Still Alive

It was tradition growing up to spend a week with your buds out at camp on Lake Champlain. Armed with a carton of smokes, a couple of cases of Schlitz and a deck of cards, I hunkered down with my best friends to share some of life's precious moments. I thought we were laying the groundwork for the Big Chill, but then again, maybe we were just getting shit-faced.

This was back in the day when no one owned a $1,000,000 home on the lake. There were no year round structures in Mallet's Bay. But there were camps with plywood flooring painted gray. Camps with interior wiring and a dangling light socket stapled to an unfinished wall. Camps with barrack style bunk beds stacked two to a room. Camps with a musty padded glider on a screened-in porch. No one worried about sitting on the furniture with a wet bathing suit, and you swept up the beach sand twice a day.

In 1976, we descended on my friend Buck's camp just before summer's start with everything a man would need for a week - sleeping bag and pillow, chips and dip, bathing suit and the album, Frampton Comes Alive! For 5 days we drank and played cards from noon until sunrise all the while listening to Peter Frampton rock out on, Do You Feel Like We Do.

Somewhere just beyond 100 beers, and 100 hours of "whah, whah, whah, whah, whah, whah! good night, good night, good night!", Peter Frampton was killed (figuratively). Several of the guys couldn't take any more of the squawk box hero and, while no one was looking, they made a pie of sorts out of the vinyl in hopes of retiring it forever. I can't recall everything that got piled onto the 33 1/3 rpm, but I seem to remember mounds of shaving cream, leftover spaghetti, an empty beer can, a few cigarette butts and a cherry. And while we were able to salvage the record player, Frampton Comes Alive! was DOA.

Friday night a few of us brought him back. Frampton, now 57 years old, arose from the collective dead of our memories with a stirring live performance at Foxwoods Casino. He played all his classics - Baby I Love Your Way, Lines on My Face, Show Me the Way and Do You Feel Like We Do - along with renditions of Stevie Wonder's Signed, Sealed, Delivered, Soundgarden's Black Hole Sun, and finished by bringing down the house with the Beatle's, While My Guitar Gently Weeps.

The dude was (is) brilliant; pure electric guitar virtuoso!

Gentlemen, Start Your Engines

According to AAA, an estimated record 41 million people will travel for the 4th of July this year. Yippee!!! We're going to break the record! Bring gas prices down to $2.98 per gallon and you just watch what we can do.

Actually, with the 4th of July falling on a Wednesday this year, everyone is confused - no 3 day weekend. Do we get off Monday through Wednesday?

If you are trying to gauge it by the fireworks display, the 4th of July starts on June 29th and ends on July 15th. Of the 26 firework displays scheduled in Connecticut, only 9 are on the 4th of July. This is getting to be like Hanukkah.

Here is my patriotic schedule for the week:

Saturday - Pledge of Allegiance

Sunday - God Bless America

Monday - This Land is My Land

Tuesday - Gettysburg Address

Wednesday - Declaration of Independence

Thursday - America the Beautiful

Friday - National Anthem...and I'm done

Happy 4th of July....and 3rd, and 2nd, and 1st....

Filtering Out the Noise

Sometimes it is good just to be quiet.

The fruit of silence is prayer,

The fruit of prayer is faith,

The fruit of faith is love,

The fruit of love is service,

The fruit of service is peace.

- Mother Teresa

We're Going to be Fat(ter)

On a recent Sunday drive, we pulled into a local business plaza that had three buildings on a race car layout lot - New Alliance Bank, CVS Pharmacy and Dunkin Donut's. Newly constructed, each one had a drive-thru window. No need to get out of the car for my cash, a refill of Meridia, or a regular with cream and 1 sugar ("did you say milk with 2 sugars?"). Pretty convenient, but if this is the trend of the future, my waistline is going to suffer.

Not for Nothing

No thoughts of brilliance today (are there ever any?), but rather just a simple thanks for having the nicest person in the world be a part of my life. Sorry for the sappiness, but I awake on most days wondering how I ever got so lucky.

Birdies and Boners

I went to the Traveler's PGA tournament this afternoon to watch golf, and walked away with a strong desire for a great big hard on. I wasn't thinking sex when I parked the car, but amidst the backdrop of a beautifully landscaped golf course, subtle reminders of my male inadequacy abound.

Really scary when you think of it. Not only did the organizers of the tournament know I don't golf like Vijay Singh, and hence will pay $30 to watch him play, but they also know I can't get it up on demand anymore. Who the hell told them that?

So the PGA has a pretty good handle on the demographics of their fan base - balding 50 year old white male wannabees with a limp dick. Does that give them the right to let everyone else in on our secret? I would have preferred to get a private sampler kit sent to me in a plain white wrapper.

Then again, maybe it isn't such a surprise but just a sign of the times that everything has to be out in the open. No secrets, no mystery, no shame. Sex and golf? Why not?

From the 19th hole:

This guy is stranded on a desert island, all alone for ten years. One day, he sees a speck in the horizon. He thinks to himself, "It's not a ship." The speck gets a little closer and he thinks, "It's not a boat." The speck gets even closer and he thinks, "It's not a raft."

Then, out of the surf comes this gorgeous blond woman, wearing a wet suit and scuba gear. She comes up to the guy, reaches over and unzips a waterproof pocket on her left sleeve and pulls out a pack of fresh cigarettes. "Would you like a cigarette?" she asks him. He takes one, lights it, takes a long drag, and says, "Man, oh man! Is that good!"

Then she asked, "Would you like a drink of whisky?" "Oh yes" he replies. She reaches over, unzips her waterproof pocket on her right sleeve, pulls out a flask and gives it to him. He takes a long swig and says, "Wow, that's fantastic !"

Then she starts unzipping this long zipper that runs down the front of her wet suit and she says to him, "Would you like to play around?" And the man replies, "My God ! Don't tell me that you've got golf clubs in there !"

AND

Do you know the difference between a golf ball and a woman's G-Spot?

A golfer will spend 20 minutes looking for a golf ball!

FINALLY

Did you hear about the far-sighted golfer......who drove his caddies nuts?

Papa the Proletariat

Yesterday was Nathaniel's birthday. He is "free" years old. He is also on his way to becoming one of the bourgeoisie. He sang a little diddy he made up while doing the cha cha that goes like this:

Papa's godda work,

Papa's godda work,

Papa's godda work,

Work, work, work!

Daddy's godda work,

Daddy's godda work,

Daddy's godda work,

Nafaniel get's a plane!

Pretty darn perceptive for a 3 year old. He's got it figured out already.

Everybody Out of the Pool!

John and the crew descended upon us yesterday to help liven up the house and celebrate the day. Keyla had to remind Ayva not to put the Teddy Bear in the water, and Nathaniel went pantless for 10 hours. Julie cooked up a steak and shrimp dinner to feed the masses. It was scrumptious!

Long after the sunset, we were sitting on the deck in darkness when hundreds of fireflies lit up the night. Nathaniel yelled out, "Look at the stars!!"

I couldn't have paid for better entertainment.

Tailgating

Wednesday evening I was on a Northwest Airlines flight home from Detroit to Hartford. It was a dreamy flight except for one split second jolt that had the faithful leaping to their feet, and soda cans falling to the floor.

"Folks, this is Captain Stubbing speaking. I want to apologize for the little blip in the program we just experienced. The weather outside is delightful, but we hit a pocket of jet engine backwash from another flight that was about a 1,000 feet above us. We should have smooth sailing from here on in...and it looks like we'll only be about 20 minutes late pulling into Hartford."

1,000 feet above us? Gosh, that seems awful close, especially in the dark!

The rule of thumb for following other cars on the highway is to stay a minimum of 3 seconds behind; you need to give yourself time to react to an unexpected scenario. At 75 mph, you need 333 feet to give yourself those 3 seconds. So Professor Descartes, if a Boeing 747 travels at 590 mph, how far behind should one pilot be from another pilot to provide the 3 seconds needed to perform a barrel roll? 2,619 feet you say! Whoa, maybe I should stay buckled up from now on.

The bump in the air on Wednesday was a little disconcerting. I had just dozed off when we hit the invisible wall, but had no problems staying awake for the balance of the flight. Ironically, I read an article in the WorldPerks Magazine about the increased number of aircraft taking to the skies since 1970, the year of the last air traffic control system overhaul. There are 6 times as many jets flying around the friendly skies today (26,000) as there were when Tricky Dick was in office (4,300). Traffic is projected to triple again by the year 2025.

I'm starting to like the idea of building a better railroad!

Taking the Day Off

Happy Father's Day to all my compadres. Put your feet up and enjoy the day, but don't forget to remember your own dad! My Dad was a real good and decent man in his day.

Thanks, Dad, for all the love you gave to me. I've held on to many of your words and deeds, and they still serve me well.

Turning Orange

If I rummage through the memorabilia box, I can probably find photos of me and my good friend, Shawn, going back to 1963. Somewhere there are pictures of the two of us together at a 1st Communion, a flag football game, and a high school graduation. Despite both leaving our home town of Burlington long ago, we've stayed involved in each other's lives for more than 45 years.

His oldest daughter, Katie, graduated from high school yesterday. We celebrated the first of Kate's many milestones by breaking bread at a wonderful Italian restaurant with the extended family. She'll be going to Syracuse in September.

The evening opened a floodgate of memories - some my own, others belonging to Katie. I won't ask where the time goes because I can recount the days; there is a story for every one of them. While I know I still have chapters yet to write in my life, Katie has a whole book in front of her.

There is a piece of me that would love to keep the kids in floaties bobbing up and down in the backyard pool. There is a piece of me that would love to keep them fitted with a new pair of soccer shoes for the coming season. There is a piece of me that would love to keep them seated on my knee in front of the campfire at Groton State Park.

But I wouldn't want to deprive Katie, or any of the children, of the richness of life experienced only once you step outside of the safety net of loving parents. The world is filled with wonderment, and beautiful people abound.

I've got a ton of advice for you, young Kate. If I gave it to you, it would only ruin the ride. Get on out there and bring back lots of good stories for the reminiscing!

Butt Ugly

While staying at the Hyatt in Milwaukee, I had an unexpected guest drop by my room. Shortly after 8:00 a.m., while ironing a shirt dressed in only my birthday suit, a window washer appeared outside the 15th floor room!

I am not sure who was more surprised, me or him. Window washers probably fantasize about peering in on a super model. Getting a glimpse of my white Irish ass had to be a disappointment.

I called down to the front desk to let them know he missed a couple of spots on the window.

Truth in Advertising

A little humor from the road while passing through Waupaca, WI today. Shoosh, don't tell anybody!

Black Market - illegal trade, commerce, or currency exchange which evades taxes, governmental oversight, or both.

Playing Big

Little John, a Quebec City Pee Wee star, joined the Green Mountain Glades of Vermont for a weekend of Bantam hockey. The Glades made it to the semi-finals of the Mini Chowder Cup Hockey Tournament before bowing out.

Most of the boys were a good 2 years older than John, but despite the age and size difference he came to play. Julie's nephew potted a goal in the quarterfinals and added an assist in one of the qualifying games. I got a chance to see him play on Saturday, and he didn't miss a stride.

He's going to be a player in his time!

Homer Confirms Catholics #1

Heaven is real and the Catholic faith is the one true path to salvation; Homer & Bart say so! Click twice to view.

Getting Away from it All

I was stuck in a traffic jam yesterday while coming back from White Plains. Pretty common occurrence.

So while I was sitting in traffic, it got me to thinking about what other people do while sitting in traffic. Here are some of the activities your fellow drivers partake in when stuck behind the wheel:

• text messaging (should this be illegal?)


• talking on cell phone - with & without hands


• eating food


• reading a book or newspaper


• doing work on laptop computer


• listening to iPod


• watching a movie


• playing Play Station Portable (bus driver fired)


• putting on makeup


• drinking coffee


• drinking booze


• smoking cigarettes


• smoking weed


• singing along with the radio


• practicing a presentation


• daydreaming about your lotto winnings


• rehearsing an excuse for why you are late


• brainstorming about work


• thinking up new blog material


• masturbating (goes hand in hand with watching movie)


• having sex (perfectly legal in Germany)

The last two aren't my ideas! Apparently this is very popular in Russia where a poll indicated 25% of all drivers have had sex while driving. Who would have thought of the highway as being such a popular place for a romantic rendezvous? Cheaper than a motel, I guess.

Leap of Faith

Sometimes in life we are just too chicken to take a step forward, even when we have no other choices. Julie has always been a great role model for our children when it comes to sitting still, or getting started. Her lifetime motto has been, 'just jump!'

Sage advice.

Ayva is a bit too young for any lectures on living, but I think she inherited the genes.

Goddamn the Pusher Man

I keep making promises to myself that I won't eat fast food anymore. It's bad for you. Tell me, one hour after eating a meal consisting of a Big Mac and McFries, are you really happy? Maybe, if you enjoy sitting on the pot.

But when in a hurry, there is nothing more convenient, or as fast, as Wendy's, Burger King or McDonald's. Did you know that for the disoriented traveler, McDonald's offers an online trip planner to chart all the Golden Arches stops along your route? Unfortunately, this is not a spoof.

I did a drive-by luncheon at Wendy's today, ordering a $0.99 cheeseburger with a small coke. Wendy's definition of small is 20 ounces. I'm not sure if my bladder is big or small, but I do know that at about the time I slurped down the 19th ounce, it was time for a bathroom break. I think my body is trying to tell me something.

Wendy's isn't the only one with big eyes, and an odd sense of scale. Burger King offers the hungry man the BK Stacker - a quadruple layer of beef and cheese topped with bacon and sauce. 4 burgers on 1 bun? Don't forget to take your Lipitor in the morning.

Someone ought to make a movie about how these companies are exploiting our eating habits and slowly killing us, fifty french fries at a time. Someone already did? Well then, tell them to make a sequel. It's the summer of sequels, and we didn't listen the first time around.

Stepping in Shit

7 months ago (November, 2006) I wrote a blog about my brother's early retirement . Retire v: go into retirement; stop performing one's work or withdraw from one's position.

Last night, I went to a dinner in honor of my brother for being named the 2007 New Hampshire High Technology Council Entrepreneur of the Year.

Can somebody please tell me how this works?

Okay, I admit it! I was pretty darned proud of Joe L.

Bottom of the 9th

When the last out is recorded, does it really matter what the scoreboard says? The game itself is worth the price of admission. Everybody gets to play!

Rumble in the Jungle

Ayva took a left hook to the right eye from a vicious Massachusetts' mosquito. Diggers swelled up like George Foreman after being bopped by Mohammad Ali in Zaire!

Keyla's got her in the corner icing down the eyelid as we speak.

Photo courtesy of Ayva's trainer - Keyla.

Sunday Driver

I was out this morning running errands and when I pulled out onto I-84, I merged behind a guy who was creeping along in the right lane. While 3 lanes of traffic kept time with the clock, the car in front of me was running interference.

Like any good Nutmeg driver I gripped the wheel and swept in on his bumper to help bring him up to speed. No go! My guy was tweaked out at just the right RPMs for his liking. If I wanted to pass, I'd need to do some work and look over my left shoulder.

He rolled down his window and emphatically waved me on. I looked in my review mirror, peaked over my shoulder and looked down at my speedometer...60 MPH. Gosh, it seemed so slow relative to how fast the other cars were zipping along the race track. But, you know, it was plenty fast enough for a Saturday morning.

I let off the accelerator, backed off his car and gave a friendly wave. I was getting in line to enjoy the day just like my new friend. The next guy coming off the entrance ramp behind me was a bit dismayed, and after running his 4x4 up my ass, he jerked out to zoom past my bumper at 80 MPH. I took a sip of coffee and waved to him, too.

"Have a nice day! I'm going to."