The Obsessive Neurotic Gardener

Category Archives: Family

Moving on to high school

Posted on by Posted in Family .

How the hell did we get here so fast? How is it possible that I have a son who can now be identified as a high school student as of last night? Damn, I always envisioned myself reaching a certain maturity level and having my shit together by the time my son hit the 9th grade and well, that didn’t happen. My parents seemed so much more mature and fatherly/motherly when I entered high school and now I’m realizing they may have just been hiding it real well. We need to have that conversation some day soon.

But this isn’t about me.

My son Jack graduated from 8th grade last night and as you would expect, my wife and I anticipated some emotions to bubble up during the ceremony. They already crept in leading up to last night so we knew it could get ugly real fast. I had a masculine front to hold up in front of the other dads so I had by best lip biting routine ready to go.

Turns out, I held up fine but my wife, not so much. I managed to keep it together during the slide show presentation of the students as babies, when each of the students presented their personal lesson learned from the school year and even when Jack was presented with his diploma. Maybe it was due to the gallon of sweat hiding under my shirt or concern with how long the salmon needed to sit on the grill when we got home, but either way, I survived the ceremony.

But it didn’t end there. What eventually got me was the following photo and it didn’t even move me when I originally snapped it last night based on my wife’s recommendation. Instead, it hit me like a ton of bricks this morning, when I was reviewing all of the pics from the festivities.

grad gym cleared out

The gym was all but abandoned as most had moved on to taking their obligatory outdoor photos with the family. I look at this pic now and the gym seems to be taking a much needed breath. You can tell that the gym has done this a few times in the past and has the routine down pat. It had already moved on and for some reason that saddened me. This locale was a huge part of my son’s world and I still needed time to reflect. He had been in this school and in this gym for 8 years (the beauty of a small town) so there our memories in every corner of that red and black gymnasium.

I remember our initial orientation back in 2008 when Jack looked like he saw a ghost during the entire tour.

I remember his first year of basketball here and biting my tongue every time he traveled and playing it cool when he scored for the first time, after traveling.

I remember the first “Back to School Night” and staring out at all of the parents wondering who we would get to know well over the next 8 years.

I remember the concerts and wondering if Jack actually knew what we was doing with that saxophone. It kind of didn’t matter, he looked cool.

I remember basketball practices together from this year, forever thankful that I got to coach and hang with him one last time.

And now we’re forced to move on.

If the first 8 years of school flew by, I can’t even imagine what we’re in store for with the next four years. Based on my research and through various forms of intel, I’ve determined that we should expect those 4 years to feel like 3 months. And I still have so many questions I need answered by someone if I have any hopes of feeling any level of control again.

Do I push him hard to pursue his passion or let him find his way?

When does the college discussion become a reality?

How does a new school and new bus route impact our family schedule?

When does that baby face transition to High School Jack?

Should I be more serious about Rogaine in anticipation of the high school graduation photos?

Will he still be as passionate about the Mets and can I book Spring Training trips through 2020?

Do we have any chance of him still liking us?

grad

If you have any of these answers, please provide immediately and you will be fairly compensated. In fact, that is my question of the day. Give me one piece of parental advice when it comes to managing a child in high school.

Thank you.

Next post we return to the gardening world where I have so much more control.

That was a joke.

Funny.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How one emotional journey led to apple trees

Posted on by Posted in Edibles, Family, Tree .

I will never give you gardening advice on this blog.

Never have, never will.

There are plenty of other places online and in killer books to find great info from experts all across the globe.

What I’ve enjoyed presenting here for the past 6 years is a peek into my own garden and what I’m doing, be it educational or smart or as you’ve witnessed many times before, just plain dumb.

I’ve also enjoyed sharing the emotions that come with hardcore gardening because yes, gardening is an emotional undertaking. There is anger when big plans fall apart over the winter. There is frustration when there is no answer as to why that stupid perennial still won’t bloom after three years in the ground. There is elation on those days when it all seems to come together. There is indifference when you get tired and start to question whether or not it is all worth it.

And all of those emotions occur within the same day.

I’ve also taken to sharing the evolution of not only the garden as a whole, but also that of specific plants. When I can, I like to capture plants in their infancy and then document their growth in subsequent years. I also enjoy sharing a plant’s ever changing look and feel from season to season. With that info in hand, it helps when deciding whether or not to purchase said plant and how it fits into your overarching garden vision.

I needed to dispense that background info before getting to the point of today’s post. Because all of that ties into what I’m about to show you.

A week or two ago my wife and I were enjoying one of our typical romantic soirees; both on our devices on separate couches while the kids watched Family Feud and the dog jumped from couch to couch trying to determine which was more comfortable and which adopted parent would offer up more attention (P.S. My wife wins every time).

After one of the many Steve Harvey “survey says?”, my wife handed me her iPad to show me a blog she had been reading. The couple and their young children were picking apples from a tree while skipping and smiling and enjoying life to the fullest. A f’n Hallmark moment. The intention was for me to see that the apple tree was producing 4 different fruits on one tree. She had never seen that before and admittedly, neither had this so-called expert gardener.

I handed the iPad back to my wife with the intention of then researching this fascinating apple tree to see if it was legitimate. But I couldn’t shake the photo. Yes, I realized it was a staged pic and the kids more than likely were fooled into giving a shit for their mom’s sake, but it still grabbed my attention for two reasons:

1)How did my own children get so old (10 and 13) so fast and were they already beyond the age of wanting to really hang with us? Could we legitimately pull off this type of scene ourselves? How much longer do we actually have in our current home knowing we’d like to move south in the future because we both hate the cold with a passion. Maybe 12-13 years? How does that factor into what I still plant here knowing our rough timeline?

2)Why haven’t I tried growing an apple tree before?

I know, you probably think this is a convenient set-up for what is to follow but I swear on all that is holy that this is exactly how it played out in my head.

That night I went on to the Stark Brothers website determined to purchase an apple tree or two. I still had time to nurse these trees to the point of giving fruit before Jack headed off to college. Poorly draining clay soil be damned, I’ll figure it our some how.

Within ten minutes I had purchased three trees:

Honeycrisp

Red Rome Beauty Apple (as a pollinator for the Honeycrisp)

4 on 1 Antique Apple (yes, similar to what we had seen in that blog post referenced above)

Time was of the essence and I could not deal with the regret of not having at least tried to grow apple trees. Too spontaneous? One could argue that, but I got caught up in the moment and allowed the nostalgic wave to get the best of me.

So last weekend, the three bare root trees were planted. It was a bit cold (in the upper 40’s) and windy and real wet but I feared not getting these in the ground soon enough. After some careful planning for like 3 minutes, I knew where I wanted them.

Out came 3′ in diameter sections of the lawn and in went my 3-4′ sticks of joy.

apple trees

Those trees are further apart than they look and the trees are all dwarf, expected to reach about 8-10′ in size. I’m not that incompetent.

After digging the holes and planting, I tried my best to ignore the reminders of how wet the soil stays with our high water table.

wet lawn 2

wet lawn

Too late, I’m all in. And determined to make this work. I even mapped out a plan to massively expand an existing garden bed off of my deck that would include two of the apple trees and a nearby River Birch. I’m thinking a small seating area with some large pots since I don’t want to mess with the roots of the three trees.

nrew bed

So there you have it.

Another opportunity to share a plant’s origin with you from the outset and we can all watch them grow up together and hopefully bear fruit some day. That, or we can laugh at my not-well-thought-out attempt at an orchard.

Either way, you the reader wins.

My emotions got the best of me here but I’m glad that they did. This should be fun and frustrating and scary and annoying …

Learning to love a small dog

Posted on by Posted in Dogs, Family .

So I’m watching “Beverly Hills Chihuahua” a few weeks back and I’m about to have a panic attack. I shit you not.

In case you’ve never seen this 2008 classic (wink), it is about a bunch of talking Chihuahuas and some sort of need to rescue one of the dogs in Mexico or something. And there is a lot of George Lopez talking. That’s all you need to know. It is utterly awful and annoying, especially if you’re like me and hate talking animals or talking babies.

More on that in a bit.

As you may already know, we adopted a puppy back in December. Mia is now about 5 months old and we are all in love. We have no clue what breed(s) she is and have heard everything from Dachshund to Terrier to Mountain Dog. Who knows? We’re considering running a DNA test to get a definitive answer but truth is we don’t care at this point.

When we got Mia, she weighed 3.5 lbs.

mia 5

While she was this fragile little thing, we knew in time she would grow to be a nice and healthy and at least average sized dog. Right? I will always remember our Puppy Kindergarten trainer’s words when she first met Mia “She’s going to be a small one, huh?” What? How does she know this already? How small are we talking? We are not small dog people. What did we get ourselves into?

About a week or so after that, we had a friend over to the house to meet Mia for the first time. After the requisite “She is adorable” and “What a cute little thing”, the next words out of her mouth made me fall to my knees and weep, “She might be a “Chiweenie“. Come again? What exactly is that?

ChiWeenieLuigiVonHunkledinkSaboDog

Oh OK, that isn’t terrifying or anything, a mix of a Chihuahua and a Dachshund. Could this be true? I spent every waking second checking out Mia’s ears to see if they were transforming.

Mia

I didn’t sign off on this. Are we going to carry her around in one of those large purses too? Is she going to wear a dress? Listen, I’m not a fan of cats and will never comprehend their “way”, but I may be more willing to care for a cat than this bizarro hybrid we acquired.

So when my daughter puts on “Beverly Hills Chihuahua” that was the last straw. I don’t know this world and don’t want to get to know it. I want my Labrador Retriever back. I get big dogs and I like big dogs.

Spoiler alert: As the weeks have rolled on, as have the visits to the vet, Mia continues to put on the pounds and as of yesterday, she is up to 18 lbs. That alone puts to bed the possibility of the horrid Chiweenie. She is small but tall, and has very long legs. I’m still rooting for an eventual 25 lbs but if we don’t get there, I’ll be OK with it. I’ve managed to adapt to the concept of the smaller dog, the lap dog if you will. Here’s our lap dog’s current routine:

  • Wake up between 6:00 and 6:15
  • Bathroom trip outside where she does “both” consistently
  • Wolf down the breakfast kibble
  • After the last kibble is downed, Mia races upstairs and jumps into our bed
  • Once in our bed, she greets Jodi with 8-10 licks and then climbs under all of the blankets and goes back to sleep at the foot of our bed
  • I get back in bed and fall back to sleep until 7:00
  • Jodi gets up for work
  • At 7:00 I make coffee and Mia trails Jodi wherever she goes and even partakes in some in some coconut oil
  • At 7:15 I place Mia in Jack’s bed so she can wake him up
  • At 7:25 I place Mia in Jamie’s bed so she can wake her up
  • By 7:30 Mia has put a smile on all of our faces

This is our new normal. And it ain’t so bad.

mia 2

And I should mention she is rather intelligent.

Time to sit back and enjoy the ride from here.

 

Why I Love Spring Training

Posted on by Posted in Baseball, Family .

The Markowski family “New York Mets Spring Training 2016 Extravaganza” came to a close earlier this week.

Put it in the books.

It’s outta here.

To say we are hooked on the experience is a gross understatement. It dominated our conversations all three days while we were in Disney World following ST, which is really saying something. Mickey ain’t got nothing on “The Big Sexy”.

bartolo-colon

After returning home late Wednesday night and somehow stumbling into the office on Thursday, I was bombarded with the requisite “How was your trip to Florida?” Normally I’m not a fan of recounting a vacation because you know, it’s over and I’m annoyed and you really don’t care much anyway, you’re just being courteous.

But this time was different.

Without hesitation, I went all tween:

 … and then we like, saw Harvey

I totally got a fist bump from Yo

Oh my gawd, Piazza was there and he looked like way skinny  

Yes I’m 43 and many of the players are of the age where they could be my son. Don’t judge.

As I provided detail after painful detail about the Spring Training experience I could see that my coworkers expected to hear more about Disney, the most wonderful place on earth. Sure it was magical or whatever, but it couldn’t hold a candle to watching overpaid men throw a baseball back and forth.

why i love spring training

At this point you are probably asking yourself, why the love for glorified baseball practice? Thanks so much for asking. You’ve aided in my transition to now listing all of the reasons why. Some will be obvious and others not so much, but collectively I hope I can effectively express why ST is a must-see for any baseball fan.

 

Florida is warm in February. New Jersey is not warm in February. If you hate the cold as much as I do, this is an easy one to grasp. My goal is to figure out how one becomes a snowbird and still keeps their day job at my age.

mets tradition field 2

 

There is no better player access than during Spring Training. I don’t know if all teams provide the same level of access as the Mets do, but it is phenomenal.

mets wright

The kids (and adults if they so wish) get fist bumps as the players race between fields and drills. You can listen in on the conversations between coaches as they watch/evaluate their players. Getting to watch the players hit in the batting cages from just feet away is worth the price of admission. Speaking of admission …

 

There is no admission cost. Yes, you heard that right. Attending ST practice is free, including the parking.

why i love spring training

 

The autographs. Good luck trying to score an autograph at a major league game. Those days have been over for a while now. But during ST, almost all of the players will sign at one time or another. With the success of the Mets last season, the crowds seemed to double in ST this year, as did those seeking autographs. Still, the chase is exciting and most of the players are as accommodating as possible, especially with kids.

mets wheeler signing

My son is an autograph freak. His collection has become super impressive over the past few years. I’m not going to lie, the hunt during ST is a bit like gambling and the rush is a hell of a lot of fun. This year, we were at the stadium for three straight days before 6:30 AM and were the first fans to arrive. Most of the time, the players arrived to the park and just waved, but there were a few who stopped to sign and that was awesome.

We also typically stay until the last player/coach has left the facility and have hit pay dirt from time to time.

Mets Collins

**Negative aside** There was one much more noticeable negative this ST in terms of autographs. We encountered way more “dealers” than last year and I’d have to assume that has to do with the team’s success. They had no problem pushing kids aside and shoving their way to the front of the line. My son is very laid back and not the least bit aggressive or obnoxious when it comes to pursuing an autograph. These a-holes made autograph pursuing a lot less fun this year for him and they don’t know a thing about the Mets to boot.

True story: a group of 5 guys came up to my son and asked him to identify a few players they had on a photo they were looking to get signed. I shit you not, it was Jacob DeGrom and Noah Syndergaard. I’m sorry, if you don’t know who they are by now, stay the hell out of Tradition Field. There should be a basic entry test before one is allowed into the facility. I’ll design it and even implement it next year.

 

Fan camaraderie. This is the most underrated benefit. The majority of the fans at ST are the diehards. Those that remember every Met dating back twenty years. They remember Butch Huskey and Danny Heep. They know who plays second base in AA and what WAR means.

At least 15 casual conversations are had each day with someone you just met and there is that immediate bond. I could listen to stories about how entertaining Rickey Henderson was in ST in 1999 or how much more out of shape the players were upon arriving to ST back in the 80’s. Every fan had a story and one was better than the next.

 

Taking an interest in a player’s personal life. Since the access is so fantastic and often times you get to chat up a player, it makes you interested in the person as much as the player. You feel like you got to know that player on a more intimate level even for a brief moment and it inspires you to want to know more about what makes them tick.

I’ve taken a liking to the Mets relief pitchers, specifically those who are on the bubble for a roster spot. You can see their appreciation for getting another chance and you cannot help but pull for them to make it. During the season you may scream at the TV “How can you walk a .225 hitter?” but then think back to that interaction in ST and realize they are more than just a number on the back of a uniform.

That player for me this year is Buddy Carlyle.

mets - jamie and carlyleSuper nice guy and beyond signing for my daughter, I watched him chat with another little girl who reminded him of his own daughter and all I saw was the human, missing his child, but having no choice if he wanted to continue in his current profession. I’m pulling for him.

 

A chance to watch the “up and comers” before they explode on the scene. Since ST includes those players who will start out in all levels of the minor leagues, you get a chance to get a sneak peak at the future stars. You get to see the players go about their business quietly and humbly since they are just starting out and learning the ropes. You get to see glimpses of their skills and why they were so highly touted in the first place. You get to see them before they have a chance to become hardened to the never ending carousel of fans and media requests. That player was Noah Syndergaard last year.

mets thor 2

Now he is “Thor” and has taken New York by storm in only one year’s time.

mets - thor hitting

 

Your fandom becomes a richer experience. Last year was the perfect example. As the Mets season developed into a special one starting in July and running all of the way through October, I got that feeling of “I was there from the beginning. I literally watched certain players meet on the practice field.”

I watched players get criticized in ST (Ruben Tejada) only to bounce back and play well at times during the season. I watched players come into camp as potential starters only to be gone at season’s end (John Mayberry). I watched pitchers who were up an coming really up and come within no time (Thor).

It’s the reason you start calling the team “we” instead of “the Mets”.

 

On a more personal level, here are additional reasons why I plan on heading down to Port St. Lucie, FL for the foreseeable future:

Photographic opportunities. If you read any of my posts from the past week, this one is obvious. ST allows you to feel like you were granted special access to the players. The photo opps for a wanna be professional photographer like me are endless.

Mets - Wright

 

Inspiration watching someone do what they love. Maybe it’s just me and where I am in age and professionally right now, but I walk away from ST determined to also pursue what I love as a profession. It may not last beyond the plane ride home, but watching these young dudes do something that requires such skill and athleticism and all of it done with a smile on their face is a thing of beauty. You can’t help but get caught up in it. It even extends to the photographers and the beat writers and the security guards and the coaches. It is a contagious thing and I gladly allow myself to soak it in.

 

The crew grows larger year after year. My wife and daughter and another friend attended ST for the first time this year and they have all admittedly been converted to lifers. It’s fun to watch someone experience it for the first time and we hope to up the crowd even more in 2017.

Mets - all of us

Who’s with us?

 

 

 

 

 

2016 Mets Spring Training – Day 3

Posted on by Posted in Baseball, Family .

Quick one today.

Made it to the field by 6:00 and while we greeted almost all of the players, no autographs. Still don’t regret it one bit.

And this may have something to do with it.

mets - field

A gorgeous day for baseball.

And a gorgeous bagel I might add.

mets - bagel

DeGrom and Syndergaard acting like 2 year olds and clearly not listening to a very important message.

mets - pitchers

Batting practice coordination at its best.

mets - teufel bp

Guest instructor Mike Piazza.

mets - piazza

Autograph insanity was the theme of this trip.

mets - autograph

Even the greatest strategy in the world couldn’t make up for it.

mets - strategy

Jamie battled on though.

mets - jamie and carlyle

Kevin Plawecki with the good guy award for the day.

mets - plawecki signing 2

mets - plawecki signing

After three days, insanity kicked in.

mets - kids mrmet

But damn if we didn’t have a good time.

mets - me and jack

mets - train to reign

I could have watched for another week.

mets - granderson

On to Disney.

2016 Mets Spring Training – Day 2

Posted on by Posted in Baseball, Family .

Up at 5:45. We are not good with 4 of us sleeping in the same room. Another rough night of sleep.

In the car by 6:10. Why the hell are we doing this?

At the stadium by 6:20. Oh yeah, this is why.

mets - stadium sunrise

Hot damn I love baseball.

mets - stadium sunrise 2

While we were the first fans to  arrive, a lot of the players were already there. Which means we have no choice but to get there even earlier tomorrow. Don’t challenge us.

Even though we witnessed so many players arriving, only one stopped over to sign for my son. And that was the “Big Sexy” himself, Bartolo Colon. He allegedly never signs for fans so we considered it a big win.

By the time the gate opened for practice, we had already been there for over three hours. The feet burned from all of the standing around but who’s complaining, this is a good time.

The players soon arrived on the field and began their stretching and warm-up routine and I focused solely on Matt Harvey, Jacob DeGrom and Steven Matz.

mets - harvey, degrom, matz

They literally laughed through the entire thing and gave it around 57% effort. Nice way to make a living if you can get it.

mets - harvey, degrom, matz 2

Like I said, a very serious atmosphere.

mets - harvey, degrom, matz 3

Once the 15 minute stretching ended, the players left the field and we all gave them a hero’s welcome.

mets - harvey and team

mets - flores running

mets - verrett

mets - wheeler

We spent the next hour or so jumping from field to field watching the pitchers only as we all know they are the stars of this team. There were a lot of fist bumps and high fives and I’m pretty sure we’re now allowed to say “us” rather than the “Mets.”

mets - familia

mets - matz

mets - thor

Have I mentioned how much I love these pitchers?

mets - thor hitting  mets - matz hittingAs practice started to wind down around 11:15 or so (yes, you read that right, less than 2 hours of practice, my kids work harder in gym each day at school) we headed to the “autograph spot”.

Jacob DeGrom and Matt Harvey walked over to the relatively small crowd ready to sign.

mets - harveyAnd we got neither of them.

Jacob seems a bit shy and eager to run and Matt, well he makes sure the photo opp is there and then bolts. I find myself more and more down on Mr. Harvey each passing day. If David Wright can sign for 20 minutes or more at a time, so can you big shot. Trade him to the Yankees now and get it over with.

While my son was temporarily disappointed, he quickly had that smile back on his face when Yoenis Cespedes picked he and his sister out of the crowd and signed for them both. He is a good dude with the kids and I’ll never forget that. I was so excited that I forgot to snap a picture.

Soon after, Wilmer Flores stopped by and not only signed for a long time, but interacted with the fans in a fun way which reminded us all as to why he has become a fan favorite.

mets - flores signing kids

Yes, that is my son anxiously looking for the next victim signer. I will now remind him to appreciate the moment more.

Done.

But by far the “most patient and willing to sign for all” player was uber-prospect and former 1st round pick Michael Conforto.

mets - conforto

He literally signed until no one was left. Beyond impressive.

And me thinks my wife has a crush on him. Jerk.

One last thing and a really killer one at that.

My daughter was picked to be interviewed by the Mets TV channel – SNY – where she will be featured with other kids throughout the year on the show “Kid’s Clubhouse”. What a natural she was. Comfortable in front of the camera like she had done it many times before.

mets - jamie sny

Get those DVR’s ready people.

One more day to go in Met Town before we turn our attention towards Disney.

Mets - all of us

Who would have guessed that Disney World would be a welcome sight for rest?

The alarm is set for 5:35 tomorrow …

2016 Mets Spring Training – Day 1

Posted on by Posted in Baseball, Family .

Up at 5:55. Horrific night’s sleep.

Breakfast at 6:50. Need to fuel up for the long day ahead. Give me plenty of those funny textured eggs.

Leave the hotel at 7:10. 58 degrees never felt better.

Arrive at the stadium at 7:15. I could live and work down here.

About 15 others are there already. Within 2 minutes I despise 80% of them. They are all “dealers” seeking autographs and are clearly not Mets fans. We enjoy giving them dirty looks throughout the day.

We watched about half of the team arrive for the first full day of camp in ridiculously expensive cars. What a way to make a living. No autographs but fun to get immersed in this world of spring baseball.

By 9:30 the gates open and we are ready to go.

mets - kids

Within minutes, the players are out on the field ready to stretch and warm up.

2016 Mets Spring Training

Yeah, that is the “Captain” David Wright leading the way.

A quick team meeting and then the players scattered among the 5-10 different fields.

2016 Mets Spring Training

Before they arrive, I try to get as many equipment photos as I can.

2016 Mets Spring Training

mets - equipment

A thing of beauty.

Manager Terry Collins runs between fields, tending to his troops.

mets - collins

I spend a good deal of time trying to get candid shots of the players.

Mets - Wright

Mets - Ces

mets - lagares

Mets - Reed

mets - walker

mets - d'arnaud

As practice drew to a close, some of the players started to sign autographs and it was absolute friggin chaos.

Mets - autographs

My kids are buried somewhere in that crowd and while my daughter scored big time with a David Wright signed ball.

mets - wright ball

My son was nearly trampled to death while trying to get a Yoenis Cespedes autograph. He was knocked to the ground by grown men acting like immature 10 year olds. It was an insane scene and completely different from the more laid back atmosphere we experienced last spring. Guess that’s what happens when you go to the World Series.

Mets - Robles

After recovering from the onslaught of overzealous fans, we headed out of the facility with one last stop at the media gate to see if we could hunt down a player or ten.

Mets - Jack media gate

Tomorrow we are getting up at 5:45 with plans to be at the stadium by 6:30. Either a brilliant or asinine move. The goal is to see every player arrive and stalk welcome them.

I’m exhausted but excited already.

Some other tidbits from the day:

  • I am badly sunburned and my face looks like a raccoon. What is this sunscreen you speak of?
  • We admittedly allowed Ruben Tejada to pull out in front of us when leaving, and subsequently chased his car down for an autograph.
  • We saw Wally Backman at lunch after practice and knew to stay the hell away based on his negative body language.
  • Shopping at Walmart in Port St Lucie is remarkably the same as shopping at WalMart in New Jersey.
  • Never underestimate the beauty of a hotel pool for children.
  • Always overestimate the fun time spent at a chain restaurant on a Friday night.

Until tomorrow.

 

Vacation Day 1 – Travel Day

Posted on by Posted in Family .

We are in Florida for the next 6 days – 3 days at Mets Spring Training in Port St Lucie and then 3 days at Disney World. I’m hoping to write a post at the end of each day, loaded with kick butt photos and all that we accomplished that day.

Right now the four of us are slowly decompressing in our hotel room after a long day of travel, laughing uncontrollably at the Republican debate. Even my 10 year old daughter understands the joke that is our presidential candidates. We’re exhausted but cannot take our eyes off of this train wreck.

We are also desperately missing our 4 month old puppy and her endless supply of puppy kisses. Luckily she is in great hands with the family that is house watching for us so we’ll make it through OK.

We plan on waking up at 6:00 AM tomorrow in order to make it to Tradition Field before the Mets players arrive for their first full team workout. My son aggressively seeking autographs and me acting like the team photographer. Fun times.

One quick story before I go to bed.

We flew out of Trenton, NJ this afternoon and upon entering the plane, the stewardess excitedly greeted me after seeing my New York Rangers hoodie. She had her hand up for the high five and I had no choice but to oblige. I had to put down both of the bags I was holding and held up the line behind me. I realized that I had to use my left hand to complete the deal based on the way I was standing. On top of that, I was a good foot taller than this woman. To say that I gave an all time awkward high five is an understatement. It was a left handed downward slap that missed the mark.

I’m still embarrassed and trying to get over it.

Good night.

 

The end of an era

Posted on by Posted in Baseball, Family .

I am writing this post on Saturday morning as I sit outside, a balmy 57 degrees, and watch my daughter’s softball fielding practice. People are looking at me strangely as I type and they chat nonsensically among themselves. I am not in a social frame of mind today so the laptop is a great crutch.

He must be doing important work so let’s leave him alone.

I am at Diamond Nation, an impressive baseball/softball facility where there are 3 softball practices and 3 men’s college baseball games going on at the same time. As interesting as a 3rd/4th grade softball practice can be, I’ve walked around quite a bit, watching the baseball games and allowing my mind to wander.

More on that in a moment.

** Quick warning – this post will include time travel so please read in small chunks in order to fully comprehend it. **

This weekend was more than likely the last basketball game my son will have ever played. He is in 8th grade and isn’t looking to continue playing when he enters high school next year. I’ve coached him this year for the first (and last) time and I am so thankful that I had the opportunity to do so. It’s been fun to run along side him in practice, shove each other while scrimmaging and get in a little trash talk along the way.

When I originally started writing this post, I envisioned exploring how sad it felt to see the end of my son’s basketball career. But now it is Sunday afternoon (FYI, first jump in time), I’m at another softball practice (batting practice this time) and turns out the final basketball game was in fact not all that sad. The sadness morphed into more of a melancholy feeling and a look towards the future.

Up until 5 seconds remained in today’s game, Jack had yet to score in a game this season. Dude has a killer jump shot but just hasn’t had any luck this year. But yes, I shit you not, he scored the last basket of the game today. While it had no outcome on the game itself, it couldn’t have been more appropriate and the perfect ending to his 8 year basketball career. Jack hasn’t scored much over the years, but he knows the game better than anyone and that bodes well for his future. After the shot went in, we looked at each other across the court, smiled (me with a slight tear) and without saying a word, knew we were OK with the end of this era.

Baseball season will start in a few weeks and this could potentially be Jack’s last season with that as well. Baseball is his true love and we’ve all thoroughly enjoyed trekking out to all of his games over the past eight years. I still remember the first time he pitched in a game and how terrifying and exciting it was. I remember tears after losses. I remember catching him in the driveway after the snow had cleared. I remember throwing “high pops” off of the deck and into the backyard. It’s cliche, I know, but where the hell did the time go?

jack baseball

Just like with basketball, Jack most likely won’t play in high school next year and again, we’re all OK with that.

Back to Saturday morning’s softball practice. Fun, right?

As I watched these college kids play baseball, completely cognizant of the fact that they were of an age where they could be my son, I felt two different and distinct emotions:

Jealousy – these kids are at their physical peak doing something they love. Bastards. Even though each had a .01% of making it to the major leagues, the possibility was still there. Not to mention, they have their professional life still ahead of them as well, with endless options. I’m struggling with where I am professionally right now and would kill to go back and take some chances. They’re still young enough to mess up and recover, multiple times.

A quick selfish aside – I was let’s say, an above average basketball player while in high school. I was a smart player with decent size and a solid jump shot. Athletically, I was 6 foot 3 inches tall but skinny as a bone. I can remember my father pushing me to work out more and add more muscle. I never heeded his advice and to this day, still wonder what could have been if I worked harder and dedicated myself more. It still burns me inside. That little bit of backstory hopefully helps explain my aforementioned jealousy.

Excitement – I just love being around baseball. The sound of the pop in the glove. The sound of bat on ball. The routine of warming up and stretching. Don’t laugh at me, but baseball is sport and art. I truly believe that. The family is going to New York Mets spring training next week and my photos will further cement the idea of baseball as art.

But what really excited me as I watched these youngsters play, was the knowledge that my son will some day be involved with the sport (and other sports like basketball) in some capacity; be it as broadcaster, as writer or as reporter, this will be his world.

announcer

For years now he has known his future profession and I know he will dominate when the time comes. I just hope he invites me to hang around with him on the job once in a while.

So while the sports playing may soon be coming to an end, a new era is arriving. I look forward to stories he writes for the school newspaper. I look forward to hearing him announce games. I look forward to watching him develop into the man I know he will be. A super compassionate, quietly funny and ridiculously knowledgeable dude.

Will I miss the little league games and catches after dinner? Sure I will. But I now see that all of that has led to where we are today.

And I’m pumped to see what is next.

To hug or not to hug

Posted on by Posted in Comedy, Family .

This post may make future functions with friends and family incredibly awkward or it may resolve a decades long unspoken issue between many of us. My gut tells me it is the latter, so I’m willing to push on, all in the name of improved familial relations.

The truth is, steps were taken this past Saturday night to address something that has stressed me out for decades – the process of greeting and saying goodbye to friends and family. I know, you all go about it without a care in the world, a mere afterthought, but I’m just not that fortunate. If someone had created and distributed the rules when I was younger, I’d be fine. Simply follow the rule book and move on. But as far as I can tell, that set of rules was never created and that is a shame. I could have enjoyed life a whole lot more up until this point.

Back to Saturday night.

We were enjoying a hearty wintry meal with extended family, impeccably prepared by my better half, with the six of us (all sans children) seated around our dining room table. The wine was flowing as was the conversation. A lot of laughs were had and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to broach a lighthearted yet vital topic.

“Hey guys, on a scale of 1-10, how comfortable are all of you with greeting each other, friends and other members of your family?”  

Crickets chirped.

Silence.

Shit, I ruined a fun and carefree moment.

But I waited it out. I was all in now.

“Are you kidding, I never kiss HIM hello.” Yes!

“We see each other so often, there is no need for a physical embrace.” Amen sister!

“That dude goes right in for the kiss every time and I barely know him.” You’re preaching to the choir!

Nice, let’s get into it.

I am not an overly touchy feely type guy. No deep seated psychological issues and no parent to blame either. I am not anti affection, just overly sensitive to how others perceive my affection. I don’t want to ever do it wrong. I respect others’ personal space and hold it sacred as well. I also know that from time to time my breath can be somewhat questionable (TMI, I know, but I drink a lot of coffee). If I had to sum it up, it’s not that I don’t feel warmth from a hug or genuinely enjoy seeing someone who I haven’t seen in a while, I just struggle with the formality of the initial embrace.

In order to deal with this silly yet very real hang-up, I have created a robust, albeit imaginary, spreadsheet in my head that outlines the greeting tendencies of various friends and family members. I access it daily in order to best prepare for the inevitable greetings. This one is a “hugger”, that one is a “fist bumper”, that one practically wants to make out and that one finds an excuse to walk away at the right moment. With that important info in tow, I can navigate the sitch.

What made our Saturday night dinner discussion so enjoyable, beyond the beef tenderloin and popovers, was that I learned that I wasn’t alone. My sister-in-law and cousin-in-law paddled in the same boat as me. They clearly had analyzed personal embraces as much as I had. I wasn’t so strange after all.

The more wine that was poured and the more we chatted about bear hugs and high fives, the more we collectively realized that people could easily be placed into categories. Categories of how they said hello and goodbye. The extremes of physical touch and last second head turns.

Luckily for you, I’m here today to provide you with these specific categories. It is a great reference for those of you who struggle with social interactions. Feel free to bookmark it for future reference.

THE ALL-IN PERSON

You know who I am talking about. The individual who goes all in aggressively regardless of your relationship to them. A massive hug, a kiss on the lips and maybe even a face squeeze. I actually find these people to be easy to deal with. I simply sit back, let them do their thing and survive it. I don’t have to worry about my actions because they are oblivious to what I am doing.

hugging

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE BRO-HUG

These dudes scare me. Aggressively male and the hug usually follows with an unnecessary punch to the arm. The biggest question is whether or not there is a slap or two on the back after the hug. I usually let the aggressor make that call and I try to quickly return the slap(s).

Bro-hug

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE BRO-HUG LITE

The most terrifying embrace by far. It requires one to recognize that a “lite” hug is coming and not the full-on version. Any mix of the two becomes unbearably awkward. Even if it is properly identified ahead of time, it is still difficult to pull off. One must rotate about 45 degrees and the other must remain with both shoulders facing their counterpart. The head tilt down is optional. And both parties must remain stoic throughout the embrace, with no words spoken. Terrifying.

bro hug 2

 

 

 

 

 

 

STANDARD HUG

This one seems easy at the surface, but it is anything but that. First decision, are you going in with your head tilted to the left or to the right? I prefer the left and decided a long time ago to stick with that in all circumstances. Second decision, how long is the hug? A quick 1 second or do you linger longer? I think of it as a formula where you have to factor in how close you are to your fellow hugger and how long has it been since you’ve seen them. There is also a height differential issue that comes into play. I’m 6 foot 3 and have to contend with this often. The last thing you want to do is rest the chin on the head because you cannot pull that off and not look creepy.

hug

 

 

 

 

 

 

STANDARD HUG WITH A CHEEK KISS

Oh lord I hate this one. I hate it when I know it is coming because I turn my cheek in anticipation and that looks weak. I hate when I am caught off guard and had assumed it was just the standard hug. It sends the message that my counterpart was not worthy of the standard hug with a cheek kiss. There is also a decision to be made post cheek kiss. Do you time it so the kiss and hug occur at the same time, or do you allow yourself to be kissed and then go in for the hug. And similar to the “standard hug”, how long does one linger with the hug. And for future reference, I am never the “kisser”, unless it is my wife or kids.

kiss

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HANDSHAKE

Relatively easy one between two dudes. One challenge is to up the other in terms of the handshake firmness. I like to win that one but some times the other dude is just built like an ox and it is hopeless. The other challenge is to determine if your partner may be a germaphobe and may not want to shake at all.

Where it gets really awkward is with the opposite sex. Is a handshake a bit disrespectful to a woman? Should it really be? What justifies the jump to a hug? Is it easier to just wave “hello”? Is it possible to pull that off without looking like a tool? I’m exhausted.

handshake

 

 

 

 

 

THE DEAD FISH HANDSHAKE

The biggest challenge with this one is to not immediately react to the corpse like hand and to some how garner respect for that same individual.

dead-fish-handshake1

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE FIST BUMP

I guess this is the alternative to the handshake but I never include it in my arsenal. I think it is now officially a thing of the past. So 2010.

fist bump

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE NO CONTACT PERSON

This is the one who establishes early on that you will not be making any physical contact with them. Easy to deal with when someone has already been identified as a “no contact person”, a simple “Hi” is all that is needed. Where it gets tricky is when you do not know for sure. It may be someone you met once before and didn’t get a chance to determine how they embrace. Or someone you’ve come to know better over time and when you see them it would make sense to now hug. Or someone who comfortably greets someone of the same sex but has different rules for the opposite sex. Even more of a reason for the mental spreadsheet.

No-Hugs

 

 

 

 

 

Look for an upcoming post where I’ll address the rules of workplace interactions including the holding of a door and how to navigate the men’s room.

You’re welcome.