The worst year of all time

The deaths (Nancy Reagan, Arnold Palmer, Jose Fernandez, Dennis Byrd, Muhammad Ali, Buddy Ryan, Gordie Howe, Pat Summitt, Merle Haggard, Glenn Frey, Prince, Paul Kantner, Lemmy, David Bowie, Maurice White, George Kennedy, Abe Vigoda, Alan Rickman, Gene Wilder, Garry Shandling, Mr. Fuji, Blackjack Mulligan, and Chyna, to name just a few).

This election.

Baseball.

This is officially the worst year in the history of mankind.

Two months off

1) I so want to say that I’m in love. And I am truly feeling it since I met her one month ago. But I read an article today that it takes 90 days for the initial feelings of infatuation to pass by. I was pretty surprised, I would have thought maybe 4-6 weeks should cover it. But as the male and the more experienced person in this relationship, it’s on me to set the pace. I really do not want to mess this up.

2) These last two days may have been the most boring two days I’ve ever had at this job.

3) The Mets absolutely broke my heart in the wild card game as they could not score even one run. The only good thing about them losing is the Cubs did not have a chance to end their season. Good luck to the LA Dodgers in the NLCS, regardless if Chase Utley and Carlos Ruiz are on the team.

4) As for football, the Jets are 1-4. They’ll probably lose Monday night to Arizona and be 1-5. The only thing left to wonder about is how good of a draft pick will they get for next spring.

5) With the pain of baseball and football, it’s a breath of fresh air to have hockey back. The 6) Rangers opened their 90^thseason last night with a home victory over the crosstown rival Islanders. They definitely look faster than last year and the offense appears more dynamic with the additions of Pavel Buchnevich, Mika Zibanejad, Brandon Pirri, and Jimmy Vesey. I definitely think they’re a playoff team if the defense just plays adequately. A Cup contender, that’s a little hard to fathom.

7) Farkle is a pretty outstanding dice game.

8) Garifuna Flava on the South Side of Chicago probably has the best jerk chicken I’ve had, certainly the best in the Midwest. That’s the one cuisine I wish I could find in the western suburbs.

9) Since when did a medium rare steak become warm and red on the inside? It’s all about the hot pink center for me. I don’t go to a lot of fancy steakhouses now, but it seems the more formal the steak place is, the rarer they tend to cook the steak. It’s stunning to me, but I think I need to start ordering my steaks medium.

10) Ring of Honor presents Glory By Honor tonight in Chicago Ridge. The main event is reDRagon of Bobby Fish and Kyle O’Reilly vs. Bullet Club, represented by World Champion Adam Cole and Hangman Page. By no means is this the best card they’ve ever presented in Chicago, but it’s always a treat and an exciting time when ROH comes to town. Tonight should be no different. And to think I’ve been attending ROH shows for 11 years now. It’s pretty remarkable how long I’ve been a dedicated follower of a product that has reignited my interest in attending live pro wrestling.

11) Less than one month till my week-long vacation begins in Costa Rica. I’m certainly excited to say the least. The only thing that doesn’t excite me is the dreaded thought of going back to work after a week away and catching up on e-mails and voice messages.

NHL Predictions

Eastern Conference

Atlantic Division

d-Tampa Bay

x-Florida

x-Montreal

w-Buffalo

Detroit

Boston

Ottawa

Toronto

 

Metropolitan Division

c-Washington

x-Pittsburgh

x-NY Rangers

w-NY Islanders

Philadelphia

New Jersey

Columbus

Carolina

 

Western Conference

Central Division

c-Dallas

x-Nashville

x-Chicago

w-St. Louis

w-Minnesota

Colorado

Winnipeg

 

Pacific Division

d-Anaheim

x-Los Angeles

x-San Jose

Calgary

Edmonton

Arizona

Vancouver

 

Eastern Conference Final

Washington over Tampa Bay

 

Western Conference Final

Anaheim over St. Louis

 

Stanley Cup Final

Washington over Anaheim

NFL Predictions

AFC East

b-New England 12-4

NY Jets 9-7

Buffalo 8-8

Miami 6-10

 

AFC North

b-Pittsburgh 11-5

x-Baltimore 10-6

Cincinnati 9-7

Cleveland 3-13

 

AFC South

y-Houston 10-6

Indianapolis 9-7

Jacksonville 8-8

Tennessee 6-10

 

AFC West

y-Denver 11-5

x-Oakland 9-7

Kansas City 8-8

San Diego 4-12

 

 

NFC East

y-NY Giants 10-6

Washington 8-8

Dallas 6-10

Philadelphia 6-10

 

NFC North

y-Green Bay 10-6

Minnesota 6-10

Chicago 5-11

Detroit 5-11

 

NFC South

b-Carolina 12-4

x-Tampa Bay 9-7

New Orleans 8-8

Atlanta 6-10

 

NFC West

b-Arizona 12-4

x-Seattle 10-6

Los Angeles 7-9

San Francisco 3-13 

AFC

Pittsburgh over New England

 

NFC

Arizona over Green Bay

 

Super Bowl

Arizona over Pittsburgh

New Mexico, day 3

For our final full day in New Mexico, Mom had a few places to visit. She was walking a little better, but still extremely limited. We first went to the Sweet Lily cafe for a quick breakfast. I think they made the best latte I've ever had. Just the right amount of foam, perfect temperature, intense flavor, and a lot of vanilla bean, which gave it another level of flavor. We also split a biscuit breakfast sandwich, which was wonderful too. The biscuit was hot and flaky, the cheese was melted and the eggs tasted very fresh, not poured out of a carton.

Two doors down was the Georgia O'Keefe Museum, one of the most popular tourist spots in New Mexico. Mom spoke for a while with the visitor coordinator about bringing a huge group in. She passed me off as her colleague so I could get in for free. Maybe not the most honorable approach, but it did the trick. It must have seemed weird to them when we said we were colleagues from Chicago and in town together to explore the area. As for the art, it wasn't really my style, between the faded oil colors and abstract approach. I appreciate that O'Keefe did do some paintings of New York though.

Down about a quarter mile on Johnson Street was the New Mexico school of cooking, another spot the tour group will be visiting. Their cooking studio was incredibly impressive, it looked like a studio from the Food Network. There were multiple cameras, a full wait staff, and an expansive southwestern menu. I went back into the shop and bought a jar of roasted green chile for the house and a bag of biscochito cookies for my co-workers. A biscochito is the state cookie of New Mexico, made like a shortbread cookie with anise and coated with cinnamon sugar. I haven't tasted one yet, but I think it'll go over pretty well.

Our next stop was the State Capitol building, which is also called the Roundhouse. The lobby was still under construction, so I went upstairs pretty quickly. They also have a very impressive art collection through the four story building. There was a buffalo head made of random trinkets like paintbrushes, spoons, and newspaper clippings. I took a picture of the state Senate chambers and also the display of the governor's office.

Mom was still limping terribly, so we decided to stay in the car and drive. She wanted to drive down Canyon Road. It's this little narrow road that goes about a mile and it's just filed with dozens of art galleries and shops. And they ain't cheap. I would have gone into the Palace of the Governors, but I wasn't spending ten bucks to just walk around the one level building.

With the weather looking decent, I made my reservation for whitewater rafting. Mom was not able to do it with her injury, so she just went up to Taos. As we began driving north, the rain started again. After an hour plus of driving, Mom dropped me off near Pilar, which is in the mountains, about fifteen minutes south of Taos.

My fellow rafters were a family of five Asians from Portland, so I guess I was the white sheep of the family. We had to put on helmets and life jackets. I was certainly pleased they had rain slickers for us as well. It was only about 65 degrees out, so the slickers were needed to keep us warm and dry. The rafting season was coming to an end that week and the water level had lowered, which added more rocks into the ride.

Since I had a little experience, I was named the point man, which meant I sat on the front left of the raft. There were a couple of times I had to dial it back because I was just using too much strength. The five miles took about two hours total. We did get stuck on rocks a couple of times, but came together well at the end.

Halfway through the drive back south to Santa Fe, the sun came out over the mountains. Not the best timing, but at least it did decide to make an appearance. Mom actually had it in mind to go to dinner right from rafting. I was wearing a bathing suit and nylon black t-shirt, so that wasn't happening. She wanted to get a steak and I barely felt dressed well enough to go through a drive thru.

We arrived at the hotel and had one happy hour drink, I went with a tequila sunrise. Even though the Bull Ring restaurant was only 0.3 miles away, we still drove since mom mom's walking was still painful to watch. We sat in the bar area, which was far more desirable to the main dining room's ugly mint green walls. The clientele was certainly locals and everyone definitely seemed to know everyone.

We started with the house salad, which was fine but skippable. The bread came late, but was warm and crusty. Then came the main event: the porterhouse steak for two. First, the server laid down hot plates with sizzling butter and a little minced fresh parsley. It not only adds flavor, but keeps the food warm. 

The steak had a great char on it, but the inside was cooked a little inconsistent. We asked for medium to get that pink center, but the tip was closer to medium well, while the inside was warm and red. It wasn't quite rare, but still a little underdone. The flavor was absolutely wonderful. For sides, we got Lyonnaise potatoes, sauteed with onions. The hot butter worked perfectly with them. Also, we got a bowl of creamed spinach. To be frank, it wasn't as good as mine. It just tasted bland, like it needed salt, pepper, and nutmeg. We finished the meal with a bottle of Australian Shiraz. There was definitely no room for dessert.

We got outside and it was raining again, so we headed back to the hotel. Knowing we were getting up at four am, and realizing Santa Fe didn't exactly have an exciting night life, it only made sense.

In terms of weather, I was amazed how cool it was in Santa Fe. Perhaps being 7,000 feet above sea level had a lot to do with that, but we never got above 85 degrees in August. The customer service was remarkable all the way around. Albuquerque was a little disappointing, as it seemed like I did everything I needed to do within one day. Maybe seeing a baseball game would have been fun, but that's about it. I might return to Santa Fe, if something brought me back, but I'm not sure what that would be.

New Mexico, day 2

I got up on Sunday at 6:15. My bag had never arrived so we headed straight to the airport. We wanted to get my bag before it left the airport and got placed on a van with some driver hauling it around all day to parts unknown. I marched into the baggage claim area and the lights were off with all the doors locked. There was a sign on the door and it said lost luggage didn't open until 10 am. Being that we were bound for Santa Fe, that was not acceptable. I walked out, and by this point, I was fed up.

Mom strode into the terminal and fifteen minutes later, came out with my bag. Certainly I was relieved, but a part of me wishes I had been resourceful enough to get it. Apparently she talked to a gate agent, who them talked to someone else. My bag was in the overflow of the overflow room.  

We drove back to the hotel for breakfast. Mom had told me I would enjoy this and she wasn't kidding. They have an omelet bar at the Marriott. I got one with bacon, two cheeses, and five vegetables. Plus sides of turkey sausage, wheat toast, and fresh fruit. And did I mention it was all comped?

It was time to leave Albuquerque in the dust and go north to Santa Fe. But we didn't take highway 25. We went with the Turquoise trail, which runs parallel to the highest, but travels through these old coal towns like Golden, Madrid, and Los Cerrillos. The tour was passing through this trail, so she wanted to explore this area to see what places were with stopping in.

Our first stop was the Sandia mountains and to take the tram from the ground up to the peak. As we approached the mountain, I looked up and my jaw dropped. This wasn't a train or a monorail, like I'd envisioned. No, it was like a hanging cable car that people use at a theme park to get from one side of the park to another. The difference was this car was climbing 4,000 feet straight up. We were going from 6,000 feet up to the peak of the mountain, around 10,300 feet.

Getting into the car was one thing, but that first push off towards the peak was something else. All of a sudden, a dozen people and I were right above the mountains. I felt pretty good as long as I didn't look straight down. As I looked around me, I was mesmerized by the amazing views. I could see layers upon layers of mountains. Downtown Albuquerque looked like a little village surrounded by brown squares of flat land.

The peak offered great views of Wheeler Peak, which is over 12,000 feet and the highest peak in New Mexico. I could also see Santa Fe and the San Pedro mountains. There was even a tiny square shaped rock cabin on the next crest for hikers to settle in.

After a half hour, we were getting ready to leave. We took the ride down to the terminal and I felt my ears popping as they adjusted to the chance in elevation. We were headed out the door with me in front, when I heard a thud and my mother growing in pain. From what I can gather, she tripped coming around a corner to the door. She reached out to grab the glass door to break her fall and her sciatica flared right up. She could hardly walk. Just to keep her from taking stairs, I drove the car illegally up a one way so it could be easier.

With mom in a great deal of agony, we resumed our journey north on the Turquoise trail. We spent some time in Madrid, which used to be a major coal mining town until the 1950s, when diesel began powering the railroad. This is like a hippie village, with eccentric art work and people riding on their cycles with wheels. I helped mom in the Mineshaft tavern and the staff gave her some ice, which helped her feel better for the moment. The tavern was a country-themed bar with a large outdoor patio, a cigarette machine, and a stage for live country music. We got a couple of iced teas and I ordered a green chile burger, one of New Mexico food staples. It was made from wagyu beef, which is a very high grade of beef, and it was topped with green chile strips, tomato, caramelized onions, and aged cheddar. The burger had a great beef flavor and the green chile added that extra kick off flavor and just a touch of heat. I think all I needed was some bacon for a little crunch.

This particular weekend was a challenging one to visit Santa Fe. They had a huge art festival, in fact, it was the largest Native American festival in the country all year. So in a city that is tightly crammed with loads of one lane roads and limited parking to begin with, it became that much more challenging to get anywhere in downtown.

Our hotel was the Drury Inn, which is just a block from the downtown plaza. Our room was ready early so we got our stuff set up before doing some sightseeing. It was quite a challenge with mom basically being so hindered by her pain. As we drove, the rain started, which would be the norm in Santa Fe over the next two days. It was like I was in Portland.

First, I went to Fort Marcy, which was the site of a battle in the Mexican American war. Right next to that is the Cross of the martyrs, a large white icon that I could easily see from my hotel balcony. There were only two other people there. Two teenagers making out. I'm just trying not to stare, but I was just thinking...they're making out next to the cross?! Still on a church kick, I visited San Miguel church, the oldest church in America. It was built back in 1610 and the original abode walls are still standing.

By this time, mom was getting crabby between her pain and not eating most of the day. I went back to the hotel and hit the gym for the next hour as the rain continued to fall hard on the roof. I did 45 mins between the elliptical and the treadmill with episodes of Bar Rescue playing in the background. I also did the bench press for the first time in maybe a year. I'm not lifting as much weight as I did when I was in the gym four days a week, but I still have my strength.

I was ready for a shower. Not just because I was sweating so much, but it was separate from the bathtub, and had a stone interior with dispensers of shampoo, conditioner, and soap. It was so nice, I just wanted to stay in there for an hour. Once I cleaned up, I headed down the hall from my room for Kickback, which is their version of Happy Hour. Every day between 5:30 and 7, guests can enjoy up to three complimentary alcoholic beverages as well as a food buffet. Unfortunately, there were only two beer options: Bud light and a local red ale that I didn't care for. Instead, I enjoyed a double margarita and a glad of Merlot.

With mom hobbled, I decided to get us pizza from Pizza Centro, a supposedly authentic New York style pizza joint. I walked fifteen minutes each way through downtown, which was a little confusing with the closed roads and dead end streets. But I arrived just as the pizza was getting boxed. I made sure to power walk through downtown and also not to make eye contact with a single soul, I didn't want anyone talking to me or possibly going after my pizza. I made it back to the room and we enjoyed the 18 inch Hell's Kitchen with marinara, sausage, caramelized onion, green chile, roasted red peppers, feta cheese, and mozzarella cheese. We left out the jalapenos and I just went with crushed red pepper. It was an amazing combination. First of all, they make their own crust and sauce so a lot of love goes into each pizza. The sausage was very well seasoned with fennel and Italian spices. The chile and peppers blended very well with the creaminess of the feta. I just settled in my bed with five slices, a bottle of sweet tea, and watched Summer Slam. Not a bad way to attend an evening, if you just want to indulge.

New Mexico, day 1

I got up at 2 in the morning on a Saturday. Now I'm used to getting up at 3 or so for a plane, but this was pretty extreme even for me. My plan was to take a five am plane to Dallas and then connect over to Albuquerque, arriving around noon MST.

Arriving at the Avistar parking facility, I was pretty disappointed that I couldn't use any more Groupons with them. It was a huge help getting a few dollars off each day. But I'm not going to pay a comparable price to get slower service. After breezing through security, I checked the departure board and I saw my flight was delayed a half hour. That didn't get to me, I knew I'd have enough time to make my connecting flight. But my heart sank when I saw the third Dallas flight of the morning was cancelled.

I was number 20 of 33 on the standby list. Then, when the gate agent asked for volunteers to give up seats, I knew my odds were terrible. I got bumped to the 6 am flight, which was delayed 45 minutes. But much to my surprise, they called my name, so I hopped on. They said there wasn't room for my carry on bag, which I expected. So I gave my bag up and took my seat.

An hour must have passed by. I had fallen asleep when I heard the pilot say we were getting off the plane because Dallas could not take in any planes due to bad weather. After finding out from my mother that the flights from Dallas to Albuquerque were not looking good, I figured my best bet was to avoid Dallas. So I went to the rebooking center, gave up my Dallas seat, and asked to be switched over to the non-stop flight at 10:20, which was still three hours away.

After a sub par breakfast sandwich at Dunkin Donuts, I headed to the G concourse. There was only one other standby passenger, so I knew I had a pretty good shot to get on. I was feeling pretty good. As I approached the gate, I saw the plane was delayed an hour. The only two good things about that were I had time to recharge my phone and I saw this adorable blonde cocker spaniel that looked just like Hogan. I so wanted to pet him!

Two gate changes and three 20 minute delays later (apparently because they didn't have a pilot), we boarded. So I'm getting in four hours later than expected, which isn't terrible. It's just that I'm missing my bag. I'm thinking as long as it comes in tonight, I'll be good. I hadn't eaten since breakfast and that bag of mini pretzels and coke were way more refreshing than they should have been.

As the plane touched down, I was reminded of what a mountain looks like. Living in such a flat land, it's refreshing to be surrounded by nature. Mom picked me up and we drove to the northwest section of Albuquerque to El Pinto, a restaurant that specializes in New Mexican cuisine. Their red chili ribs had been voted in the top five ribs in America by the did network, so I knew I wanted to try them. We got an appetizer platter of ribs, guacamole, and queso dip. The ribs were very tender, but they were weird in that they didn't have a sauce or a rub taste. They had the smoked chiles on the outside. While they were certainly smoky, I was glad they weren't too spicy. The guacamole was fresh, just excellent. I was really pleased with creaminess of the queso dip, which was accented with New Mexican green chile.

From there, we headed south into Old Town. This is a section of several blocks on the northwest side that has loads of little shops and the center of it is a square shaped grassy plaza. I enjoyed looking at all the Native American artifacts, the uniquely designed crosses, and western themed clothes. I also enjoy hearing the unique music of acoustic guitars and wind chimes. It just relaxes me in a way that so few things can. I also went into the San Felipe de Neri church, which was built in the 1700s. I may not be Catholic, but I have great respect for those old traditional churches, so it was a very sacred place to visit.

We went over to the Route 66 diner, near the University of New Mexico. Mom had a lot of places to visit to meet the owners and to make sure that they could accommodate her tour group. This place is so vintage. There's an old school jukebox, they have hundreds of Pez dispensers, and the waitresses wear poodle skirts. One of the things I really liked was the Route 66 map painted on the wall that highlighted the trip. We each had a small shake, mom had a turtle and I had the Elvis (peanut butter and banana). Good stuff.

I think we were both feeling a little bored this point. We drove north to the casino and the setting was beautiful. It was at the foot of the Sandia mountains. The golf course on the outskirts of the property was very well maintained and there is also an outdoor amphitheatre that I imagine would be great for a concert. But once we were inside, it seemed like Mohegan Sun light. Just a typical casino. Lots of lights, lots of colors, and lots of sad faces. If you ever want to see a truly depressed group of people, go into a casino and walk around.

After a half hour in the casino, we were ready to go. We checked again for my bag at the airport and it was still missing so I filed a report with lost luggage. Knowing we were driving to Santa Fe the following day, I couldn't bear the thought of not having a change of clothes in the morning.

We went to the Marriott hotel and I settled in...well, sort of. Settling in basically meant taking my sneakers off. The staff gave me a grooming kit with deodorant, toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, q tips, and hair products. I really was imposed with the level of service on the trip and this wad just one example. I found out an hour later that my bag had landed in New Mexico. Since I had been told it would be delivered to the hotel, I let it go, and took an Uber to the Marble brewery. It was located outside the downtown area and I felt at home pretty quickly. There was a live band playing rock and roll, a Korean food truck was parked outside, and there were a lot of 20 and 30 somethings hanging inside and outside. Not having company, I went into the bar, sat down, and ordered a flight of six beers. My favorite was the Amber ale and I later drank a pint.

A few minutes after I arrived, a cute brunette girl in a jean jacket sat at the stool next to me. Her friend joined soon and it turns out they were mobile nurses from Louisville working in New Mexico. I had what I'd call a decent conversation with them before I took my exit and caught a ride back to the Marriott around ten.

N.Y. again, round 1

After getting home from work at 9 pm on Wednesday night, I was up at 2:45 a.m. I drove to the Avistar facility to park my car, which I didn't really want to do, but when I can save $20, I can usually handle lackluster service. The flight to LaGuardia was a breeze, I actually had a whole row to myself.

After landing, I took the M60 bus to north Manhattan. Although I didn't know ahead of time that they had just moved the bus terminal upstairs so I had to race to catch it! I took my subway on the 6 with no air conditioning on a 90 degree day. I knew immediately that the blue and orange polo shirt I was wearing was done for the weekend.

After unpacking, changing clothes, and setting up the fold out bed, I went from Pelham into lower Manhattan. I got my pizza fix at N.Y. pizza suprema, right near Penn station and Madison Square Garden. Most of the best pizza places don't offer slices now, they require the customer to order an entire pie. If it's 12 inches, that's usually fine, but 14 is really pushing it. This place does about twenty types of slices. I went with slices of chicken parmesan and suprema, which was pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, peppers, and onions. The crust was crispy all the way through, which way too many places do not get right. That soggy crust bottom is an unacceptable crime against pizza. The tomato sauce was bright and flavorful, and the toppings were well proportioned. Definitely a place I'll be returning to.

From there, I walked four blocks west to Foley's, a baseball themed pub in midtown. It looks like a collage, there is so much memorabilia crammed in the space. Balls, jerseys, and bobble heads adorn the walls. I watched just another Mets disaster for five innings while sipping on some Blue Point beer.

I then took the Long Island railroad to Ronkonkoma in Suffolk county to meet up with a friend. 14 bucks each way, and that's during the off peak hours. Anyway, she's a dog walker, so we had to drive 90 minutes east to North Fork, which is right near the eastern tip of the Island, north of the Hamptons. We drove to this house, which was more like a zoo. They had horses, cats, hosts, and dogs around. Looks like they had a few dollars in their wallet. We picked up Daisy and Curley and took them to the dog park. Driving through the eastern part of Long Island, I was surprised how much it resembled New England. A lot of winding roads, seafood restaurants, stores with matching fonts. We had the park to ourselves and we threw balls around for them and let them do their business.

After dropping them off, she took me to Riverhead, where we checked out the Alive at Five festival. It's basically a weekly dinner festival with food vendors and local bands. The restaurant she wanted to take me to was full and there wasn't a host to be found. So we found a nice place that served a lot of bison. I ordered a bison T-bone, which was really good with mashed potatoes and vegetables. She got salmon and penne. It was so sweet of her to treat me to an early birthday present.

She took me back to Ronkonkoma and we talked about everything from divorce to organic food to rock and roll. It took me 2.5 hours to get back to the Bronx between the LIRR, a five block sprint through the train on 33rd Street, and the 6 train. I got in around 1:30 in the morning.

After so much travel on Thursday, I was happy to not have to get on a bunch of trains and buses in Friday. I spent the morning in the house, which meant the web were watching gay real estate shows on Bravo. I think I rather would have been in Bed-Stuy, the crime-ridden section. Eventually G and I flipped through Netflix and watched a couple of episodes of Worst Cooks in America. I was really entertained, I now want to watch every season.

G, bless her, eats one of the strictest diets  I've ever seen. We tried like hell to figure out a lunch spot since she didn't want to drive far or go into the city or into Brooklyn. She mentioned the Yard House, which is one of my favorite places, but she said she gets sick every time she goes no matter what she orders. So we finally settled on Red Robin. I mean, it's freaking Red Robin, it's not that good and I can get it at home. They indeed made her food wrong and it took twenty mins to get the bill sorted since she had a discount. It was just a headache. I like her, but I don't know how I can cook for her!
She also drove me by City Island, a nice seaside area, before dropping me off at the house.

I left for Bryant Park for some people watching. I felt a little rushed, knowing I had to head to Queens. Then it was onto Citi Field for my Mike Piazza replica jersey. As for the game, they lost again. I left after the seventh inning.

N.Y. again, round 2

It was an odyssey to get to New Jersey. I was planning to take the 6 to the E and arrive at Penn Station. Well, it didn't work out that way. I took the 6 only to find out the E wasn't running. So then I took the 4 one stop to Grand Central, the S one stop to Times Square, and the 2 one stop south to Penn. Way too much work.

I took an early train to New Brunswick, and I
passed Metuchen and Edison along the way. I got a little sentimental, I hadn't been in those towns in six or seven years. I was playing "Jersey girl" and "Jersey boy" on my iPod. My father has a place with a "friend" near Rutgers university. Seems to be happy. I checked the flights homebound and saw the Newark ones were filling up. LaGuardia still had some space and twice the number of flights so I figured I'd go there Sunday morning.

We headed back into Manhattan and went to Brother Jimmy's BBQ. The best thing I can say is they played great music, a lot of southern rock. The brisket was mediocre at best. It was stringy. The letdown was the terrible cornbread. I'll say it for the last time. Corn kernels have no business in cornbread! The Carolina sauce was straight vinegar, I had to add regular barbecue sauce to make the pulled pork sandwich taste decent.

The fried brussels sprouts were really good. Dad had never been a fan of Brussels sprouts, but he enjoyed these. The beans had a nice flavor, but could have been thicker in consistency. This is definitely not a pace I'd return to.

We took a tour of Madison Square Garden, going through the concourses, Chase bridges, Rangers and Knicks locker rooms, suites, and arena floor. It was really a great experience to get so up close and personal with the Mecca.

We went down to Greenwich village, to walk around. I wanted to go to Wogie's, a Philly themed bar. But he wasn't hungry. Instead, we walked through a street festival. We got to a fruit stand. Dad wanted watermelon, but I didn't. And he took it personally that I didn't want it. These are the discussions with my father that make my moments with him so frustrating at times.

Halfway through the 30 block north, it started raining. I wanted to go to different restaurants, but we wound up back at Nathan's where I had two hot dogs and crinkle cut fries. They're some of the best dogs in the world, but it wasn't what I wanted at that time.

So we got to rainy Citi Field for the Mike Piazza jersey retirement ceremony. It was a fantastic ceremony, even with the Piazza themed tarp on the field. The train slowed to barely a sprinkle and as soon as the ceremony ended, it rained again.

After three innings, that crap game was over too. This season has spiraled completely out of control. With a few days to look book, I'm disgusted the Mets traded their second baseman of the future for another left handed outfielder who strikes out a lot and can't play defense.

We got back to New Brunswick and I figured I'd check the flights again. With rain in the area, I wanted to be sure I could get on a plane in the middle of the day. And what did I see waiting for me? Nothing but red flights all over New York. I knew right then that breakfast and bagels were not happening on Sunday. I had to get to LaGuardia as early as I could.

So on my 35th birthday, we left at 5 am and I got to Newark airport around 5:40 a.m. I was the first one there actually, aside from the one guy sleeping on four chairs. The counter didn't open for another twenty minutes and by that time the lobby was filled. There must have been 30 people and I had a feeling a bunch of them were there for the same reason I was.

I paid $31 and I got on the first shuttle, which left around 7. The van was totally full with even people. We got to Kennedy airport in about a half hour. On the way, we passed over the Verrazano bridge and went into Brooklyn. It felt only right that I was near my grandparents old house on that day.

We arrived at LGA around 8:30 a.m. I was set up for a 12:29 flight. I could have picked a earlier flight at 10:30, but I figured I'd be safe since you never know how these shuttles will go. So I checked my bag in and got through security. But something caught my eye when I was checking in. I checked the departure board and saw that the 6:45 a.m. flight to Chicago never went out, it was delayed.

I knew this terminal had a rebooking center, so I headed over to list myself on an earlier flight. I also listed myself as a D1, which as a standby, gives me higher priority than my typical D2. I get six D1s a year and this was a time to play that card. After waiting maybe a half hour for two guys, it was my turn. She moved me to the earliest flight. Apparently it was delayed because one of the flight attendants went MIA. And that's not Miami. When I got to gate D7, the boarding had just begun. On the standby list, I was #11 out of maybe 18. About half the people were on, but it wasn't happening in order. Numbers 1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, and 13 were on. So at this point I had no idea how many people were getting on this plane or what the criteria were.

I navigated through the crowd of people to get to the counter, I wanted to let the agent know I was there. She seemed a little annoyed, not with me, but that the rebooking center was adding more people to the flight and it was going on after they should have been let on. Within three minutes, I had a boarding pass, seat 14C. I gave a big fist pump as I headed down the ramp. Sure I had to wait a couple of hours for my bag, but that's well worth it.

20 Beers

These are the 20 beers I tried at the Naperville Ale Fest, ranked from my favorite to my least favorite.

FIVE STARS
Double Double Barrel Ale (Firestone Walker Brewing Co.)
Hasen Fuss (Urban Legend Brewing Co.)
Gumball Head (Three Floyds Brewing Co.)
Zombie Dust (Three Floyds Brewing Co.)
Blonde (Guinness)

FOUR STARS
Green Apple (Angry Orchard Cider Co.)
Oatsmobile (Bell's Brewery)
Fascist Pig Ale (Finch Beer Co.)
Pshycogaze (Solemn Oath Brewery)

THREE STARS
APA (Brickstone Brewery)
Hexafoos (Solemn Oath Brewery)
Mountain Livin' (Crazy Mountain)
Summer Solstice (Anderson Valley) 
Little Brett (Allagash Brewing Company)

TWO STARS
Shower Beer (Champion Brewing Co)  
Quinannan Falls (Bell's Brewery)
5 Vulture Oaxacan Style Dark Ale (5 Rabbit Cerveceria)
Hickster (Scorched Earth)

ONE STAR
Consensus (Penrose Brewing Co.) 
French Toast (Small Town Brewery)

Five things I'd like to accomplish

1) Visit every state in America
2) Own my own residence
3) Become a respectable painter
4) Get a legit job promotion
5) See my six pack again

Six weeks

I'm so much better at writing when I'm in a bad mood. Wish it wasn't that way.

The one thing I really want to say is this. If you're a friend to someone, don't trash them in front of other people who don't know you well.

Contemplating the future

I've never been more open to moving than I am now. The cold has a little to do with it. The fact that I don't want to be here when the Cubs win the World Series has a little to do with it. Yeah, I said it. The lack of close friends in this area and growing number if friends around the country has something to do with it. The fact that my father had talked about moving somewhere for two decades and never did also has something to do with it.

But here's what it really comes down to. I feel I'm progressing personally and professionally pretty quickly. As a result, I'm gaining confidence to a point that I have more to offer than what I knew. And that's saying a lot, considering the confidence issues I've had since I was a kid. I do enjoy the culture of Chicago, it's truly special. I have been here on and off for 19 years and all of the last 13. It's a home. But I don't believe this is where I want to live the rest of my life.

I do not know what city I want to move to, though I have a few ideas. The advantage I have is working at the school that I do, there are dozens of locations across the country. I have no lack of options. And with the work I've put in with this company, and ten years experience in this industry, I know what I have to offer. I'm just keeping my mind open and I believe by this time next year, something in my life will be different. It better be, because I want to be willing to take more chances and take a more proactive approach to my life.

Lead me oh Lord. Guide me along the way. Show me how to listen to you first, before anyone else. Amen.

Portland, Day 2

We got up around 7 and I walked straight into the gym. The one good thing about my balcony was it was just steps away from the gym. It was your typical cheap hotel gym: a couple of cardio machines, a water fountain, and a universal lifting machine, which is impossible to figure out. I ran 3.5 miles in about a half hour, as I recall. It's not as fast as I used to go, but I did use some inclines. And it gave me the confidence that if I wanted to do a 5k again, I can still do really well with some training. I'm convinced I'm still the only person who likes the treadmill over running outside. I'll say it again if the temperature is under 50 degrees, I ain't running outside.

After cleaning up, we headed to Ohno cafe near USM for breakfast sandwiches. I got us each an egg, bacon, and Vermont cheddar on a bialy. Good stuff. In the cafe, it was a lot of people who looked like they were ready to take a hike. Lot of beards, colorful clothes, a homeless guy with long shaggy gray hair just came in and got a custom coffee for himself. The night before, we're driving through a quiet part of downtown and we saw a series of people high as can be just stumbling their way through the middle of the street, totally oblivious to the possibility that a car might be oncoming. Portland, Maine and Portland, Oregon are so similar, it's frightening.

Anyway, it was a very overcast day, there was a 90 percent chance of rain forecasted. Mom forgot her wallet, so we had to go back to the hotel to get that. Thankfully, the hotel was only about 6 or 7 minutes away from the ferry terminal, so it was just a way to kill a few minutes. She had arranged for us to take the mailboat route off of Portland and to all around the surrounding islands. Unfortunately, on a day like this, the visibility was so low had we could not see more than a couple of yards off of the boat. Also, it was quite cold off the coast; my rain slicker wasn't quite enough.

What a lot of people do is take these large boats just to get around to different places. I can't imagine living like this, where I'd require a boat that only runs every few hours and costs $16 to take me to the mainland and supply all my groceries, mail, supplies, etc.  The whole ride took almost three hours and we were both anxious for it to end.

I did notice that the area was incredibly pet friendly. I guess a lot of the residents keep animals. The boat we took had at least five or six dogs at a time.

After getting into the car and turning the heat on, we drove north on 295 to Freeport, home of LL Bean. This was a really intriguing town, with tons of outlets and shopping spots. By this time, mom's knee was so bad that she was really struggling to walk. She did buy a pair of black shoes from Clark's, which will be getting mailed to her in the coming days. I hope this pair works out, she has so much trouble finding shoes that are comfortable on her feet.

I checked out the Bass stores, and it seems every time I go into a Bass outlet, I make a purchase, usually shoes of some kind. This was no different, as I got a pair of chocolate brown sandals for about 45 bucks. I almost brought a blue and white checkered shirt from Brooks Brothers, but the truth is I could really use dress slacks more, so I passed. I did try out the LL Bean outlet, but nothing in there caught my interest. I guess if I was into fishing or camping, it would be more my speed.

We did grab two bowls of clam chowder at the Lobster Cooker. They came in paper bowls with a side of oyster crackers. Eight bucks per bowl seemed like a lot, but it was an excellent chowder and I could really taste the large pieces of clam as well. Very hearty and satisfying on a chilly day.

By mid afternoon, mom appeared ready to collapse. But we stopped at a place called Wilbur's chocolates where I got a bag of salt water taffy for my co workers and a slice of blueberry pie for myself. Maine is well known for their blueberries and they were incredibly bright and flavorful in this pie. We went back to to the room (the chlorine condo) and mom napped for maybe two hours. As for me, I watched the Bar Rescue marathon and Family Feud. This Mets game didn't quite turn out so well.

By 5:30, we were ready for dinner. I had made a reservation for the Grill Room at 6:30. But we just have a knack for being early, so we figured we'd try. Mom actually had been hesitant to go, because she didn't want me spending too much. Granted I'd spent over $150 already, but I knew this looked like a great spot.

We got a spot on the street, that I never would have taken because I hate to parallel park. After mom bought the first two glasses of wine, we got a table. The coarse salt came in a bowl, not even a shaker. We were given focaccia with a distinct salt and rosemary flavor. The olive oil that accompanied was definitely aged, it had a notable sweetness to it.

We started with scallops topped with a bacon truffle vinaigrette and a frisee salad. Two scallops for 14 bucks! That's really steep, but they had an excellent flavor. And now, I'm all for adding bacon to any vinaigrette.

Mom got the swordfish special with lobster mashed potatoes (which likely jacked that price up about 10 bucks) and fiddle heads. They're a green that look like kiwi fruit but have a bitter taste to them. I guess they're used often in Maine cooking. Why they have that name, I have no idea.

As for me, I knew for a week in advance that I'd be getting the coffee and ancho chili rubbed pork chop with creamed corn, spinach, crispy onions and cider glaze. The spice of the coffee and ancho complemented the corn beautifully. Somehow the onions were gone almost immediately! The chop was very well cooked, no pink, but still very juicy. I would rate it almost as good as da pork chop at Ditka's. I also enjoyed a wonderful glass of Malbec for just seven bucks.

We were so loaded that dessert wasn't even a thought. Back to the room for more Bar Rescue, Beat Bobby Flay, and a few minutes of the NBA finals, which was over quite quickly. I would've watched ROH until mom said it was time for bed!

Flying back was a little tough. Security was actually the easiest I've ever had since 9/11. I didn't have to take liquids out of my bag, I didn't need to remove my shoes, and my computer stayed in my bag. I just took out my phone and belt and I walked right through.

Even though the flights looked wide open from Portland to Philly really on, we would find out it wasn't so easy. The weather from the previous night resulted in American cancelling flights. So all those people showed up the next morning. Mom got on, but I wasn't so lucky. I got bumped off two flights, which did give me a chance to listen to Joe and Evan on WFAN.

But after the second bump, I had a two hour wait and I was off to the bar especially since I hadn't eaten all day. I got a tall shipyard export ale, which was an outstanding beer. Medium bodied, copper in color, smooth finish. I had a chicken and bacon sandwich, which wasn't great, but it was ok. I was actually proud of myself for getting steamed veggies instead of fries as my side. I chatted with a local guy who is a power line worker in Maine. He had one of the classic lumberjack beards and the New England accent. Very cool dude, but that accent should just not be allowed.

I did get on the 1:20 plane out to Philly. The strange thing was when I got off the plane to the terminal, I saw the departure board, and there were no Chicago flights listed at all. So I had to run back to the main board two terminals away, only to find out I had two more terminals to go. Two days prior, I was slowly pushing my mother through these hallways in wheelchair. Now I was running to get to the gate on time.

I got there and it looked like a sardine can. There were 14 standby passengers, and I was 13, which was crazy. The key was I went up to the gate and made myself a thru passenger, meaning I was making a connecting flight. All of a sudden, I moved up from 13 to 6 and got a seat.

As I type this, I'm just flying over the eastern border of Michigan. As I reflect over this trip, I'm grateful I got to travel. I don't really have any interest in returning to Portland though. Hopefully New Mexico or Washington state will be checked off the list in the next couple of months.

Portland, Day 1

I hadn't been to Maine in 14 years. But it was mom's birthday weekend and I hadn't been there in 14 years. American airlines had only recently gained access to their airport after the merger with US Air. But they only fly into D.C., Charlotte, and Philadelphia. I think the last time I had to take a connecting flight on American was when I went to Mexico.

We missed our first plane, so we took a 7 a.m. to Philly. I'd never flown there before, but I was impressed week ask the so on the wall and city history on display. For instance, on one of the moving walkways, there were posters displayed of movies that had been shot in Philadelphia. Since mom's knee is still in really bad shape, I pushed her around in a wheelchair over the terminal. We went to Tony Luke's and split a cheesesteak, which was absolutely tremendous.

The flight to Portland took off a little bit late, but the gate agent never gave us a reason or timetable. So everybody was just sitting around wondering what was going on. We left about 45 minutes late. The disappointment was we had to cancel our boat trip that afternoon. We landed and picked up our rented red Nissan Altima, which only had 1100 miles on it and cost just 20 bucks a day.

We drove south to Kennebunkport, which is well known for being the Bush's residence. It's a classic New England coastal town, very little space to move, and a lot of little local shops right off the water. And of course, there was plenty of seafood. We went to Mabel's, one of the best known seafood joints in the state. Mom asked recommendations and wound up getting a two pound stuffed lobster with shrimp, crab meat, drawn butter, and God knows what else. I was fine with broiled scallops. We also split some fried whole belly clams, maybe my favorite fried seafood. It wasn't a cheap meal, but it was wonderful.

The weather in Maine is pretty crazy, I would actually call it bipolar. When we got off the plane, it was around 80 and sunny. By the time we finished lunch maybe two hours later, it was maybe 65 and the sun was tying to fight its way through a completely a gray sky. We did walk around Kennebunkport and they had a lot of nice souvenirs. Very classy, not trashy. But finding a parking space is just brutal. It's one lane roads with tons of pedestrians. So the traffic moves at the speed of kites and the space is so limited. After fifteen minutes, we did find a lot.

From there, we headed a little farther north to Old Orchard beach, where mom used to spend summers when she was really young. As we drove down Route 9, which is the coastal road in that town where everything is going on, it reminded me a lot of Coney Island. A huge amusement park, a lot of families, and a demographic that was very lower middle class. I also noticed a ton of Canadian flags. I guess they like to come down in the summers and warm up in Maine. We also went through the neighboring village of Ocean Park, which is another beach community. As we approached the old summer camp where my grandfather used to be a camp counselor, mom just started crying. She was thinking about growing up and how much it hurts her to think about how fractured her family has now become. It's not easy to watch, but I just figured it was best to give her a few minutes to get some more emotion out. Both of my parents have become absolute softies when it comes to crying, over the last 5 years.

By now, it was approaching 6:00 and I just wanted to go to the hotel, check in, and clean up. We checked into the Clarion, near the airport. I hadn't seen one of these hotels since I was last in Newark. We got a room on the first floor, which I'm not used to. I was happy about not needing to use elevators. Until we opened up the door to the room and then it hit us. The pungent smell of chlorine and bleach. The balcony of our room overlooked the indoor pool. After I was in the room for about 5 minutes, I got more used to it. But every time we'd return to the room over the weekend, we would open the door and that brutal chlorine smell would hit us fresh all over again.

Mom napped for an hour and I tracked the end of the Mets victory in Miami. Around 6:30, we drove six minutes east into the arts district of downtown Portland. We had dinner at Slab, a Sicilian style pizza pub with a really nice bar and dark interior. I had a German lager and one square piece of pizza. To us, it really tasted like pizza bread. The crust was pretty chewy and the cheese was really hard to notice. It was ok, but if I went back, I would have tried something else.

From there, we drove a little bit east on Congress St and walked into Blue, an intimate live music venue. They had a jazz trio playing, a sax, bass, and drum. I like that they didn't charge a cover, but the suggested donation was $25. Most covers for these kind of venues are maybe $10, $15 at the most. So I felt it was steep, but I figured they did that because they hope people will be extra generous. I drank a bourbon sweet tea, with black tea, simple syrup, lemon, and Bulleit bourbon. Pretty good cocktail, and it was satisfying, especially with spice of the bourbon.