Leaky Faucets

It’s been three weeks since my last update on our trip-a reflection of how little time I had for things like blogging because of parental duties and our hectic social calendar as we tried to see as many people as we could.

We’re finally back in Cebu still trying to shake off the stubbornly lingering effects of jetlag.  Almost gone now after three days at home.  It’s strange referring to the Philippines as home and the U.S. as a vacation destination.  My world is a bit upside down for now but I’m coping.

So let us rewind a little bit here.  We spent about ten days at my mom’s house in Cleveland-which we needed after the New York City debacle.  Ana was thoroughly happy there.  She had the entire newly carpeted basement to run around with no hazards and tons of toys.  She spent hours down there every day and never fussed.  Of course, we also took her out.  We went for walks around the neighborhood and hung out in the backyard.  She had her first visit to the zoo in Cleveland.  Unfortunately, the heat was oppressive that day and many of the animals-including the tigers-took to lazing under a shady tree.  Not too exciting.  And we missed the monkeys-my favorites.  We also went to a few parks-one in beautiful and historic Hudson, Ohio and the other was surprisingly lush and vibrant Edgewater Park, just west of downtown Cleveland.  During these trips to the park, I came to realize that one of the things that makes Ana the happiest is having a large grassy area to run as fast and as far as she can and to fall down and get up over and over again.  In New York’s Central Park she had a similarly grand time.

In Cleveland we got to spend a lot of time with family and friends including some people I haven’t seen in a long while.  Aya and I got to go out a few times leaving Ana at home with my mom.  We went to see “Sex in the City,” which was better than I expected.  I went to an Indians game with the guys followed by a trip across the Cuyahoga to Now That’s Class.  We even got to hang out with Paul several times which is a bit of a minor miracle.

After Cleveland we headed back to Pennsylvania for a few days. Maki’s bakery, Cupcakes Gourmet,which just opened a few months ago, is doing very well.  In fact, they were honored by a Philadelphia area magazine MainlineToday ,earning one of the “Best of the Mainline” awards.  On our last day there Maki invited us to the award party, which consisted of a smorgasbord offering ridiculous amounts of food.  As usual I could not stop from gorging myself.  The sliced steak from a local butcher was excellent as were the meatballs from an Italian deli.  Besides Maki’s cupcakes though, I wasn’t too impressed with the desserts.

While in Pennsylvania, we also snuck back to New York for about 24 hours.  This time we left Ana at Maki’s and took the bus like the old days.  It was certainly a lot easier in the city without her but it was still a hectic day.  We had brunch with Jocelyn at Café Henri in the Village.  Best damn almond croissant I’ve ever had.  They actually don’t make it there-they get it at another French bakery in the Village but I don’t know the name.  Henri has very good entrees and coffee too.  I recognized the waitress from the Long Island City location and she remembered me from there too, asking where the baby was.  This small moment gave me a fleeting feeling of home again after really feeling that I didn’t belong in NY anymore after my last visit.  After that, we separated.  Aya went shopping with Jocelyn and I headed to 59th Street on a special mission.

I had to hit the Conran Shop to get my favorite miniature pens.  Incredibly geeky and obsessive, I know.  I get this way when I find a product a like and then find out that there is only one place in the world or only a few places that carry that item.  Like the incredibly comfortable black Ralph Lauren socks that I’ve only ever seen in a non-descript store near Ditmars Blvd in Astoria, Queens.  I think they are knockoffs because I’ve never seen them on the web or at outlet stores or any other place that carries RL and this is the type of store that would certainly sell knockoffs.  There’s also my beloved Sirius 70% dark chocolate, which I’ve only seen in Whole Foods.  (More on that later.)  Anyway, the pens are important because they are small (like a golf pencil) and can fit inside the rings of the 3×5 notebook I usually carry in my back pocket in which I write down anything and everything from to-do lists to my ideas on saving humanity, etc.

While in New York that one day, Aya had a meeting with a client and I met our real estate broker in Jackson Heights, got the mail, had to have a key made for the mailbox and cashed in about $17 worth of change at Commerce Bank’s “Penny Arcade.”  Then we met up with David at Hotel Gansevoort’s rooftop.  A total ripoff but I knew that going in.  Just wanted to cross it off my list.  We did have a surprisingly good dinner at Vento, an Italian place near Gansevoort.  

Then on to the main event, and the main reason for the one-day excursion in NYC: the Aimee Mann concert at Highline Ballroom.  I had been looking forward to this for months and was so psyched that we were able to work this into our schedule.   We saw her Christmas Show last year, but I wanted tosee a real Aimee concert without al the holiday songs.  I had pre-ordered her new album”@#%&*! Smilers” before leaving for the States in June and after repeatedlistenings I was really starting to like it.  On her site’s message board, I peeked at the playlist fromprevious shows on the tour, and it revealed a heavy emphasis on Smilers.  I was glad to be prepared.  Truthfully, though, by the time the concert arrived we were both exhausted.  We were not quite in the mood to stand for three hours, but that is what we did.  There was also an opening band called The Submarines.  They were okay but not really my thing. Didn’t really like the Macintosh-aided orchestrations and the female singer’s act seemed a bit contrived. They are like a WB-band, the type played on “Gossip Girl” to rave reviews.

Then Aimee finally climbed on the stage around 10:15.  Immediately you could tell that she had done this thousands of times before.  She had an excellent command of the audience and the material and was completely comfortable up there in complete contrast to the giggling opening act.  Between songs she also demonstrated a great sense of humor and knack for storytelling and back-and-forth with the audience.  The show lived up to my expectations although I wish I wasn’t so tired and stressed that day.  When I was younger and was a frequent concertgoer, I always had this fantasy or daydream–usually while the band was playing-that it would be so great if I could see this group perform live from the comfort of my own bed, not standing on top of each other sweating profusely or wearing uncomfortable shoes.  But that’s not reality, and I guess part of the live music experience is putting up with the crowds and the unpredictabilities involved.  I won’t go into too much detail on the concert here, but I’ll post the setlist at the end of this post in case anyone is interested.

I bought a t-shirt, which I haven’t done at a concert in years.  Then we took a cab to Trina’s place in Greenpoint, where we hung out for a bit before getting a meager amount of sleep so we could wake up early enough to catch the 8:00 bus back to PA.

This one day in the city was like a capsulated version of my ten years as a resident there.  I crisscrossed the city from Midtown to Greenwich Village to the Upper East Side to Jackson Heights to the Meatpacking District to Brooklyn and back to Midtown.  This was all within less than 24 hours.  As I walked alone from place to place random memories stirred inside me darting in and out of my mind.  Each flashback was triggered by a certain locale.  Walking in the East 60s reminded me of when I played softball for Bozell in the summer of ‘98.  We would always hit the same Upper East Side bar afterward and then I would take the long and impaired walk to the train.  It was a bit lonely after I left the bar.  Being in the Village reminded me how much time I spent down there my first year in the city, often going to hear jazz at the BYOB Small’s.  Of course, Greenpoint reminded me of visiting Paul at his place there and also of running through the neighborhood during the marathon.  The Meatpacking District was a place I frequently visited during my hotel class in 2006 as our site was there on 15th and 9th Ave.  I also thought of the marathon when I passed by the Queensboro Bridge.  I used to spend a lot of time in that Manhattan neighborhood going to movies when I lived in Astoria since there was no decent theater in my neighborhood when I first lived there and it was only 10 minutes by subway.  Of course, Jackson Heights represented the final chapter of our New York existence, for now anyway.

Okay, this post is getting way too long.  This is what happens when I don’t write for weeks.  I’ll try to wrap it up now.

We stopped in LA for a few days and spent a lot of time with Angelica and Minh and James who came up from San Diego.  Went to the Getty Center which was unbelievable and we didn’t even get a chance to see the exhibits.  Just the grounds themselves were mindblowing.  We also drove all over the city in the Honda Civic hybrid I rented.   The car was only a few bucks more per day and we definitely saved on gas.  I got a lot of comments and questions from passersby asking about the car.  I give it high marks.  We had breakfast one morning at the pier in Manhattan Beach-it was takeout from Le Pain Quotidien, one of our old favorites from the other Manhattan.  Before driving in LA, I was a bit intimidated, but now I feel pretty comfortable driving there and sort of know where I’m going with the aid of a good street map.  Tried to avoid the freeway as much as possible but got stuck in traffic a few times on the 405.

Mostly in LA we shopped.  It’s a Filipino thing.  I didn’t understand it when my in-laws used to visit and all the wanted to do was shop, my now I completely get it.  There are many things you cannot buy in the Philippines and other things that are much more expensive there.  So we spent the entire day before our departure shopping with the highlight being the trip to Costco to pick up mostly non-food items such as my cherished Charmin.  We also had to buy a bunch of items for Aya’s family at various places.  I feel like I did enough shopping to last me until I come back.  One unfortunate shopping related thing was that Whole Foods did not carry my Sirius chocolate bars.  The WF outlets in NY and Cleveland always have plenty of the white-wrappered bars, but apparently they don’t have them in the California stores, so I could not stock up until my next trip.  I had bought two in Cleveland thinking that I would get more in LA.  Of course I ate one before leaving so now I have one to last me five months or so.

Okay, I’m stopping soon, I swear.  Told you I’m obsessive.  The flight back to Cebu wasn’t so bad-guess I’m getting used to these double-digit flights.  I must say that the international terminal at LAX is pathetic.  It’s under construction and there is only one place to eat inside the checkpoints and the prices of the mediocre food are insane.  Then, after Ana was getting cranky again during the wait, we had to board a bus to take us to the plane where we had to climb the steps in order to board.  Ana was asleep by that time and slept for another five hours.  When she was awake she was pretty well behaved though we had to make frequent trips up and down the aisle where she couldn’t help trying to wake up every sleeping passenger.  Fortunately, none of them seemed to be too annoyed.  I occupied myself watching movies as usual as I have a hard time reading or writing or working on these long flights.  I can only survive by reverting to my childhood vegetative TV watching state.    Watched “Cool Runnings” with the late great John Candy, which I had never seen and was mildly entertaining.  Then “What Happens in Vegas” and “Run Fat Boy Run.”  All were entertaining to varying degrees–as I’ve said before, my standards for movies on airplanes are drastically reduced.

That’s it.  Our exhausting whirlwind six-week trip that took us to six states (seven for Aya) is finally behind us.  Many lessons learned which I hope we’ll remember next time we try to plan a trip like this.  We’re home.  Good Night Now.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *

Aimee Mann @ Highline Ballroom, NYC 7/30/2008
Stranger into Starman
Looking for Nothing
Freeway
Phoenix
Great Beyond
Save Me
Wise Up
Calling it Quits
4th of July
Invisible Ink
You’re with Stupid Now
Little Tornado
31 Today
Borrowing Time
Today’s the Day
Red Vines
How Am I Different?
Little Bombs**
I’ve Had It**
Deathly**

**Encore

When we moved to Jackson Heights from Astoria four years ago, I got rid of the old turntable that I purchased in 1996.  I had every intention of getting a new one, but I didn’t listen to records much anymore after getting an iPod.  I missed the crisp and authentic sound of vinyl and of the hundreds of slabs of wax I owned, many were difficult or impossible to find in mp3 format.

So last summer I decided to do some research on turntables and I found that J&R Music World in downtown Manhattan had a audio-technica model that would allow you to plug it directly into your PC in order to convert your vinyl into digital music suitable for playing on a computer or iPod.  So I bought one.

But it wasn’t as simple as I hoped it to be.  First, I’m an idiot when it comes to electronics, and this model is not a basic turntable.  It’s a DJ-quality player with many controls that I wasn’t familiar with such as anti-skating and tracking force.  Anyway, I tried to get it to work but I couldn’t.  I had to wait until Aya’s cousin came over one day for a party.  He was a former DJ and was able to help me set it up.  The next problem was that I could get the records to play but I could not figure out how to record.  Nothing I tried worked out.  And the timing wasn’t right.  It was only a few weeks before we moved overseas so I really couldn’t devote too much time to it.  I decided I would just wait until we got to the Philippines since Gahum is a whiz with electronics and computers and he was also a DJ for many years.

I had to ship the turntable via Johnny Ocean so even though we got here in the first days of January, my precious package did not arrive until late February.  We were so busy for a while unpacking our other 17 boxes that the turntable just sat around for a while.

Gahum is always so busy and is rarely home so I was never able to have him take a look at the recording process.  Last month, I decided to give it another shot myself.  I pored over the manual reading every step carefully.  I finally stumbled on something.  One of the settings on my PC was incorrect.  I changed it and suddenly it worked.  So I began recording the few records that I brought with me in my carry-on luggage in January.  (My vinyl is too valuable to ship and I wouldn’t trust the airline baggage handlers so I plan to bring a handful of records securely bubble-wrapped each time I go back to the States.)  It’s a time-consuming process as you have to let the record play in real time to record it.  Then I need to copy the songs to my iTunes and convert them from .wav to .aac files.  Also, since the record player is only a few feet off the floor and within Ana’s reach, I can only record when she is either sleeping or not home.

Still, I enjoy the process and get excited every time I can hear something on my iPod that I haven’t listened to in years because I only have it on vinyl or cassette.  Most of my vinyl collection is old punk and hardcore records but I also have a small amount of jazz, classical, old rock, hip-hop, comedy and novelty records such as the “12 Days of Cleveland Browns Christmas” 45 from 1980 that I bought several years ago at a record convention in Manhattan.  My friend Jimmy had this record when we were kids and I remember that 1980 season vividly.  Listening to my punk and HC records like Life’s Blood and Plasma Alliance is taking me back to my junior high and high school years when I used to spend hours in my basement either by myself or with Paul or friends just listening to records spin on the turntable.

Yep, that’s right. Monday. Here in the Philippines the game kicked off around 7:30 am Monday morning. We stayed out at Plantation Bay Resort last night since we were offered a free room. The resort is about 30 minutes away from the Bravio Poker Room where we watched the game so we had to wake up really freakin’ early for the big game. My whole life-well at least since 1979, the first Super Bowl I remember watching-I’ve been accustomed to staying up pretty late to on a Sunday night to watch the game, but this morning I had to set the alarm for 5:45 a.m. in order to make kickoff. The early start time and the fact that it’s Monday made it an odd experience.

That, and watching it in a country where very few people care about the game of American football. NBA basketball is beloved here as is boxing but not football or baseball. That said, the atmosphere was pretty fun at Bravio. There were about 25 people there-mostly American expats along with some Filipinos. My table featured Aya, my brother-in-law Gahum and Tito Antolin, a family friend who seems to be around almost every day. Aya paid scant attention throughout the game but she enjoyed the free wi-fi access and managed to get a lot of work done on an office design she’s doing. She finally focused on the game during the waning seconds when I exhorted her to pay attention because the Giants were about to pull it off. Gahum isn’t really a sports fan but he lived in New Jersey for five years and was excited about the Giants. I’m glad he was able to get his ass out of bed this morning because we needed him to drive there. He’s a night person who rarely wakes up early; in fact, he was out playing pool last night until 5 am. Bravio was his idea. I was searching the web for places to watch the game in Cebu and stumbled on a sports bar called Badger’s (perhaps owned by someone who spent time in Wisconsin?) supposedly frequented by foreigners. Gahum found out that Bravio , where he plays poker, would be showing the game, which was only available on the Solar Sports channel via satellite. Tito Antolin was very interested in the game as well, though he had no rooting interest. He has seen football before but never a whole game, and spent most of the time asking me fundamental questions about the game; I didn’t mind explaining the significance of the yellow line on the screen, scoring, penalties, touchbacks, etc., though I did kind of miss watching the game with someone who could discuss its intricacies.

The Bravio crowd mostly consisted of Giants fans with only one person in a Pats jersey. There was a guy with a Shawn Alexander Seahawks jersey and another guy who said he was from Dallas and didn’t like either team but especially despised the Giants since they beat his Cowboys. I was rooting for the Giants. My real allegiance will always be with my hometown Browns but I grew to like both the Giants and Jets in my 10 years in New York. It really took hold during my first few years there in the late 90s-the interim period after the Browns moved to Baltimore and before the new team started. Some of the New York teams I don’t like-particularly the Yankees and Knicks-but I’m at least neutral on the others. As for the Pats, I didn’t want to see them undefeated. I’ve also developed a real dislike for Boston, partly because of the obnoxious Red Sox fans. Going into the game I felt the Giants had a chance, but I was amazed at how well the defense played. They were all over Brady. Actually, I think the entire defense should have been given the MVP rather than Manning, who played a solid but certainly not spectacular game. He did make some clutch plays on that last drive, though. All in all, it was one of the best–if not the best–Super Bowls I’ve ever seen, partly probably because I was pleased with the outcome and also because I just miss football over here. It was the first postseason game I got to see this year, other than part of a replay of the Giants-Packers game. (We don’t have a TV yet, but I plan to get one in the next month or so along with a satellite so I can be ready for next year.)

Another difference in watching the game in the Philippines is the food. No wings, pizza, nachos or beer this early in the morning. Instead they served a substantial breakfast for Php 200 ($5). They billed it as an American breakfast in honor of this quintessentially American event, but actually it was only part American. Pancakes and bacon and fruit. The Filipino part included garlic fried rice. There was also a side of baked beans, which I think is actually British. Beans and toast I think. The food was decent but the coffee was lousy. Nescafe instant 3 in 1 coffee. Just add hot water. Sickeningly sweet. Bravio doesn’t served “brewed” coffee apparently. Don’t think they’re usually open in the morning.

As for the much-hyped Super Bowl commercials, they didn’t make the translation. The spots were all local and were mainly from two companies: Alaska, maker of a powdered milk drink, and JVC. I don’t really care about missing the commercials like some who look forward to them. I’m just glad I got to see the whole game this year. Last Super Bowl Sunday, Aya and I went to the hospital at half time so that she could be induced into labor. Ana was born about 27 hours later. Her first birthday is Wednesday.

Don’t have much time to write while I’m here. No wi-fi at Mom’s house so I have to share the computer which is often occupied. Ana’s napping so this is the time.

It’s so quiet here at night that you can hear each second of the clock. Tick. Tick. Tick. Eerie, eh?

Didn’t expect to see snow so soon, but it doesn’t usually happen this early in New York. One snowfall was all I needed to remind me of how much I hate winter. Won’t miss it at all. Cleveland seriously has the worst weather. The sun rarely breaks through the clouds this time of year. It’s just grey, grey, grey.

One thing I do miss is the simple joy of leafing through the sports page with my morning coffee. I never buy the paper any more in New York, and wouldn’t find much joy in reading about the Knicks or Yankees anyway. At least here, I can read about my own teams. Usually, I get most of my sports news from the Internet, but something about the sports page brings me back to high school or something when the sports section was the only section that existed as far as I was concerned.

We’ve been going to the gym almost every day since we’ve been here.  Mom got Aya and I guest passes for the week.  It’s a sweet facility–just opened last month.  Was a Gold’s Gym, but has now changed to Urban Active.  I’ve gotten the chance to play some basketball since no one seems to use the half court that they have.  Unfortunately, I’ve just been playing alone.  The men’s locker room even has an XLERATOR hand dryer.

Why is Cleveland losing the game tonight and almost for sure the series tomorrow? It’s not the starting pitching. Or the weak bats. It’s the lame-ass song that Fox Sports has decided epitomizes Cleveland. “Cleveland Rocks.” Shut up already, you idiots. “The Drew Carey Show” sucked and so does that theme song. I don’t know anyone in Cleveland who liked that show (although I haven’t asked too many.) They’ve been playing the song incessantly throughout this series. At least Boston has a decent song, “Dirty Water” by The Standells. There’s gotta be a better song about Cleveland that they can play. There’s one by Tom Waits and another by Randy Newman. Although I don’t know either, I’m quite sure there better than that shit song they keep playing. It’s bad enough my team is chocking yet again without this further embarrassment. The classic ‘70s Cleveland punk band, the Pagans, has a song about Cleveland (“Real World”) which refers to public square and proclaims that “the west side is the best side.” I forget the name, but if they start playing that the Red Sox are toast. By the way, Fuck Boston.

Little in life gives me more pleasure than seeing one of my Cleveland teams take down a New York team. Don’t get me wrong. Despite the fact that I’m leaving, I love the city of New York. But when it comes to sports, it’s different. Particularly with the Yankees. Oh the joys of listening to local sports talk shows or scanning the Post or News after a game like last night’s. (I remember riding the subway back in 1997 when I was in New York looking for an apartment. The Tribe had just knocked off the Yanks and I was enjoying a morning read of one of the tabloids. I moved to NYC a few weeks later-a week after the Indians blew the World Series-and the Yankees have been on top or close most of the time I’ve been here, so similar moments have been hard to come by.) Caught a bit of Chris Russo’s show on WFAN while I was at Physical Therapy this morning. He’s a bit obnoxious, but I like what he had to say about the game. I guess he’s not a Yankees fan but he is a New Yorker, and a realistic one at that. I definitely like him better than his partner Francesa, who is a bit of a homer. I certainly don’t want to get cocky here because the Yankees can still pull this out. For one day at least I can revel in the misery of the Yankee fans. I’ll even go so far to say that I get more joy out of seeing the Yankees lose than seeing the Indians win.

And the bugs? Well, that’s just part of living in Cleveland. You have to be able to deal with harsh winters and disgusting summers. This is certainly not the first time a baseball game in Cleveland has been swarmed by flying insects, but perhaps it was the most pivotal moment for such an infestation. Joba Chamberlain couldn’t handle it. Jeter cried about it. (What else is knew?) Carmona didn’t flinch. And Rivera? Of course, it didn’t faze him. Dude is a freaking robot.

Aya and I saw Gogol Bordello last night at the House of Blues in downtown Cleveland. Our dinner ran long so we rushed to make it on time and ended up missing the first few songs. Still, we saw well over an hour of frenetic energy, well-orchestrated chaos and great music. Definitely one of the best live shows I’ve seen in a while. With nine members-not always on the stage together-the band created a beautiful cacophony of punk, traditional Eastern European gypsy music and many other types of music all mixed together with instruments you don’t see everyday in a rock atmosphere. Violins, accordions, cymbals, dancers. Of course, there were guitars, a bass and drums.

Singer Eugene Hutz is a tremendous showman. It was a great coincidence that they happened to be playing in Cleveland the same time that we are here. I’ve always wanted to see them in New York, but they always seem to be on tour elsewhere so I never had the opportunity. I wasn’t sure what kind of crowd would show up for them in Cleveland, even though I know they have a pretty big following. I was pleased to see a few hundred people-most of who seemed to be having a good time. I was reminded that Cleveland is a music-oriented city and people will show up to see good live music. Since I went to my first punk show in Cleveland 20 years ago this summer, I’ve seen a lot of great live shows, and much of them were in Cleveland. (In case you are wondering, that first show featured Half Life, the Plague, Knifedance, Blowout and Blank Schatz.)

I first heard of these guys a few years ago through the book “Crossing The Boulevard,” which chronicles the diverse stories of immigrants from all over the world who all came to Queens, New York. Queens Library had an exhibit on the book and a few of the guys-I think it was the accordion and violin player-came to the opening and performed a few instrumentals, much more low-key than anything I saw last night. I helped them find the F train, which they had to take all the way to the other end near Coney Island I recall. Other than that, I didn’t talk to them much.

Actually, I wasn’t sure we’d go at all because these days Aya often changes her mind about going to things like this. Even before she was pregnant, she did that. Tiredness was the usual reason. But she ended up loving it too, saying it was one of her two favorite concerts-the other being Radiohead. (Of course, she has only been to a handful of concerts.) It reminded us both of our early days together, days when we both did things to please the other until I relationship was cemented. She went to see the Italian punk band Raw Power at CBGB with me and later braved a Slayer concert at Roseland. But, a few weeks ago she declined my offer to see Manu Chao in Prospect Park and we had a brief spat about it. I was upset because we no longer shared this, but perhaps more because I don’t have many friends in New York anymore who would go to a concert like this with me. Last year, I saw Manu by myself, but didn’t want to do that again even though I had a great time and get buzzed from the contact. Now, Aya wants to see Gogol live again and perhaps other shows will follow. Of course, in New York we have to pay for a baby sitter and arrange it in advance, so there won’t be any spontaneous concert-going and the band better be worth the outlay for childcare. I think this was my first show since Ana was born and I gotta tell you it was quite liberating.

As I write this, I’m listening to NPR’s live broadcast of Gogol Bordello’s show at the 9:30 Club in DC. (I went to the 9:30 many times during college when it was in the old cramped quarters on F Street. Now, it’s a huge venue I believe.) This is pretty cool. I never knew that NPR did this. You can check it out later because it will be archived here. The song that is playing now-”Start Wearing Purple”-was definitely the biggest crowd pleaser and appears to be their most popular song. It was in the movie “Everything is Illuminated” which included singer Hutz in a prominent and quite comic role. In “Purple,” he refers to himself as a clown, and he definitely lives up to that live, although clearly, that is only one part of his persona.

Anyway, check out the band and go see them live. It’s a must.

I swore long ago that if I ever had a kid I wasn’t going to be the type of parent to blow ridiculous amounts of money on designer label clothing for someone who would outgrow it in a matter of weeks. Whenever I saw an infant or toddler outfitted head-to-toe in Sean John or with Air Jordans, I hissed to myself in disgust. Well, call me a hypocrite, but I couldn’t help myself…

Exiting I-271 at Cedar, making the turn into Acacia Park and onto Kilbourne I immediately sensed something different about the neighborhood where I grew up. It was the trees. It seemed like they were gone and the surroundings were suddenly naked. Naked and ugly. Without the trees, the bland suburban homes were on display. Trees make places like this tolerable. But more and more these days, it seems that people care less and less about them.   I mentioned this when I got to my mom’s house and Dennis said the trees are the same.  But, when you haven’t been somewhere for a  long time and you come back, you notices changes like this.

Then, as I approached Winchester-the street where I grew up-the ugliest blight of all stared me down. A new condo development attached to the golf course at Acacia Country Club. It’s barrenness and incompleteness were stark. Things here have changed, and mostly for the worst. My appetite for suburban living has shrunk even further in these few days that I’ve been here in Lyndhurst.

It’s been a while since I was the beneficiary of the buyback policy at a bar. That’s why I expected my free drink-the buyback–after my second beer last night. But, I didn’t get it until after my third (two Killian’s and an Amstel light-all drafts), by which time I didn’t want another but I had to take it because it was free. Right? I was only at the bar-Legends sports bar around the corner from my apartment-too watch the basketball game: Cleveland vs. Detroit Game 6 with a chance for my long-suffering Cavs to finally make the NBA finals for the first time in team history. Since I don’t have cable and didn’t want to listen to this pivotal game on the radio or follow on the Internet like I did the previous five, I had to go to Legends to catch this game which was on TNT. It wasn’t worth it for the other games, but this I had to see. As I posted a few days ago-and as most sports fan knows-Cleveland teams have a history of choking in crucial postseason games. This time the Cavs came through, although they didn’t really win anything yet so it’s far too early to celebrate. That said, I didn’t expect them to get past Detroit so it seems like a huge deal. According to Paul, people in Cleveland were going crazy last night. I guess it’s been a while since the city had a reason to celebrate. And I’m not just talking about sports.

Despite being at Legends by myself, I had a pretty good time. I was mostly just focused on the large TV in front of me. The two guys next to me on my left-obviously good friends with one badly slurring his words the whole time-were fixated on the Stanley Cup Finals, which was on most of the other screens. I don’t miss hanging out in bars with people like this, and I rarely go to bars these days unless there’s a game to see that I can’t see at home. I certainly don’t go to bars by myself just to drink like I used to when I first moved to New York and didn’t know anyone and just happened to live across the street from McGrath’s, the world’s best dive bar, which unfortunately closed a few years back, falling victim to the expansion of the world’s worst grocery store, Food World.

Anyway, back to what I was saying. There were only a few other people in the bar, and most, I think were regulars. There were two black guys on my right rooting for the Pistons and talking about basketball in general. We didn’t talk at all. Another guy came in and watched most of the second half. He was pulling for the Cavs, but by his accent I knew he was not from Cleveland, and assumed he was the new type of Cavs fan-you know the type that was born the day the drafted LeBron, and not the type that was going to games at the Richfield Coliseum to watch John Bagley, Phil Hubbard and World-Be-Free in the early 80s. That team sucked but I still loved them. The bartender, Jerry was pretty friendly and didn’t bother me too much. At the end of the night, someone came in with a bag of White Castle burgers and starting passing them out to the few of us left at the bar. I wasn’t going to have won, but in the end I did. Why? I never eat fast food anymore and White Castle is the bottom of the fast food barrel. I guess it was just in the spirit of the night.