ALMOST FORGOT TO REMEMBER

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (06-10-21)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     To some, Memorial Day means a weekend at the shore, or at a summer house. We decided to get away to, (wait for it), Poughkeepsie. We didn't want to travel too far or get mired in traffic, and it was going to be a rainy weekend at the summer house, and further, we don't have a summer house. Every hotel in the tri-state area was either booked or charging exorbitant rates, but we managed to find a reasonably-priced motel that appeared to a great place to hole up after committing a series of felonies. That doesn't bother me, I've stayed in great hotels, and I've stayed in lousy hotels, and the shower head doesn't come up past the small of my back in either one. 

     The crappy weather didn't stop us from going to the local tavern, and proof of vaccinations meant no masks. It was so vibrant it felt like the scene in "The Wizard of Oz" where the movie goes from black-and-white to color. The evening felt shot out of a cannon and it was a pleasure to see, but it's worth noting that 20-something girls with masks on used to screech more quietly. 

     A gaggle of them on a bachelorette's night out had me surrounded within seconds. "We're on a scavenger hunt...." "And let me guess," I interrupted, "You're looking for either an 'old dude' or an actual scavenger, correct?" "NO," they all said at once, "Is your name 'Roman?'" I'm of Swedish descent, but I suggested, "You might have to go all the way to Rome to find someone whose name is Roman, but there's a Rome right here in New York. It's about 150 miles from here." (They eventually found a guy named Roman, and I'm assuming the wedding was back on.)

     The next day's weather was still uncooperative, so we hung out at the indoor pool for a while, then ventured out to browse the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College. It contains works dating from the Hudson River School to the modern masters. Highly recommended, especially for rainy days in Poughkeepsie. There was a Jackson Pollack, and I'd like to think I could do something almost as good by parking my car's leaky oil pan over a tight canvas for a couple days. Well, why didn't I? Because I couldn't fit my car through the art studio door, smarty-pants. There are also works by O'Keefe and Picasso, among many others. I always wonder what would have happened if Picasso became an architect instead.

     When it cleared up we went for a walk with Gidget-the-Dog at the Nyquist-Harcourt Wildlife Sanctuary in New Paltz. It felt good to get a little exercise, and I feel more physically fit if my clothes physically fit. The property has at least 120 species of birds and fields full of wildflowers surrounding a large pond. We saw at least four and twenty blackbirds, and also a great blue heron, and that's a lot of name to live up to.

     After we got home I realized I had lost one of my sandals at the motel pool. Maybe someday the Beautiful Princess who worked at the front desk would find me. "I know why you're here!" I'd say. "See that zucchini over there? One magical night it turned into a Dodge Dart and carried me to your motel! You see that football cap and baseball jacket? They turned into a beautiful ball tuxedo. You see those ants on the kitchen drainboard? They aren't in the story but I can't figure out how to get rid of them. You found my other sandal didn't you, and now I can live happily ever after!" She says, "No, your credit card was denied."

     This year a trip to the Art Center and nature sanctuary made for an uncharacteristically quiet Memorial Day weekend. But you don't have to have a parade or go anywhere boisterous on Memorial Day if you don't feel like it. All you have to do is remember, all by yourself if you want. Remember what it must have been like, remember what someone's family feels, remember what it was all for. And at least for one day, don't forget what Democracy looks like.
 

PARADISE BOUND, PART II

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD ( 06-03-21)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     Jamaica properties are running at 40 percent capacity right now, a figure that is sure to rise as the country continues to dose up. But after four days we we had exhausted the available supply of restaurants so we traveled on to our next destination, Jewel resort at Runaway Bay. By now we knew what to say: "Wa gwaan" (how ya doin'?), and you say, "Mi deh yah" (I'm here, I'm good).

     SCUBA diving lessons were included at the all-inclusive water sports area, but I don't see myself poking around 100-feet below sea level looking for inhospitable vertabrates. I'm not really the adventurous type- if it were up to me to explore the seven seas, the Earth would still be flat and it would be a whole lot easier to get around on a bicycle.

     Instead, we bribed ourselves a couple of masks and snorkels, and swam the reef near the beach. If you see something underwater that looks like a purple porcupine, it's a sea urchin, so avoid it because its spines are slightly venomous. If you step on one and have a bad reaction, an old wives tale has the number one remedy, but I can't tell you what it is here (actually, I just told you).

     We saw a flatfish just sitting there on the bottom, blending into his surroundings. He looked like he was floundering, but that's kind of a compliment to a flatfish. It's a little creepy to see him looking at you from both eyes on one side of his head, but at least his heart was in the right place.

     Back on shore we joined the resort's doubles tournament, and were awarded a bottle of Kingston 62 rum as the winners, when it was determined that we were the only two people foolish enough to show up and play tennis in the 97-degree sun.

     At night the DJ came out and spun some songs to the dolled-up, mask-free, sun-burned crowd. It was the closest whiff I've had of a live bar in quite some time, and it felt good. The music filled up the room and the laser lights flitted deep into every corner. All I could think of was letting a box of cats loose in the place and then running for the hills. I was getting my mojo back. By the time 11:30 rolled around I could barely keep my eyes open. Maybe it was all that sun, or maybe I was just out of practice.

     The next day there was a letter under our door, and I knew the end of our vacation was approaching because it was time for our return flight covid test. The suspense of sweating out the result was killing me, like waiting for the responses to my college application letters. But when they finally handed me the envelope, the outcome was a whole lot better. 

     Our last evening we joined a tour to the "Luminous Lagoon," which is a rare brackish water habitat to millions of dinoflagellates, micro-organisms that light up when disturbed, in a natural light show of bioluminescence. My wife told me to snap some photos while she swam around and bioluminesced with them, but I said no way, I'll go first. Once she's had her organism, you think she'd be interested in mine? All I had to do was figure out how to disturb them. I played some AC/DC real loud, sang two verses of the "Kars for Kids" jingle, made a few cracks about their moms, but it turns out all you have to do is swim around with them, and it's annoying enough.

     All too soon it was time to wind up our vacation and fly back to Earth. I'm going to miss swim-up bars, good coffee roughly the consistency of 10W-30 motor oil, trees that look like cell phone towers that look like trees and pretending to use hand sanitizer. Eight days of fun in the sun was perfect, but it wouldn't have mattered where we went. The important thing is that we went. We're rounding the home stretch of finally leaving our homes. Get vaccinated. Join life.

PARADISE BOUND, PART I

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD ( 05-27-21)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     It's been a long 14 months of uncertainty, inactivity, canceled plans and isolation. The perfect antidote seemed like a long overdue vacation, some sunshine, a warm beach and a slight hangover with not enough symptoms to be mistaken for anything else. It finally felt like the right time.

     The Caribbean is the birthplace of a million beautiful memories, and I was more than ripe to go and look for a few more. Taking a trip to Europe, stalking around museums, booking day tours and hotel hopping will be back in style soon, but right now, an all-inclusive island paradise close to home was the ideal place to get our feet wet. If you have been dreaming of a vacation but aren't quite in the ready-zone yet, please feel free to live vicariously through mine.

     I had an eight-day stay in Jamaica planned in my head, but when it came time to make the booking I couldn't decide between two gorgeous properties, so I chose four days at each. A trip abroad in the Covid Era comes with its own challenges. The airline asks you to get there three hours before the flight during pandemics, so that they can spend  what seems like the whole extra hour looking over your negative test results while you sweat like a drug mule carrying 20 pounds of cocaine in your pants. Our plane to Montego Bay was three-fourths full, but since I'm an optimist I thought of it as three-fourths empty. There was no drunken stewardess-abuse, no anti-maskers or fist fights, and I wondered if I should start one myself to get it over with.

     Jamaica hasn't procured enough vaccine to reach the hospitality industry yet, and as a result, masks are plentiful but salt and pepper shakers are all but extinct. They pointed thermometers at me frequently, although I'm not sure how you can tell whether anyone has a fever since I felt roughly the same temperature as a grilled cheese sandwich the entire time I was there. They took safety very seriously, or as seriously as possible while chasing me around with a spray bottle of hand sanitizer.

     Our first night at Couples resort in Ocho Rios there was an outdoor buffet and a live show with a fire-eater. The band could take any song and make it sound like a great reggae song. They did a fine version of "Buffalo Soldier," although they must have forgot it already was a reggae song. I don't know what the fire-eater did after the show, but he might have been fun on a date. The kerosene breath is a romance killer, but at least he could warm up your coffee.

     If you happened to lose your luggage there is an "au naturel" beach around back. I decided to go topless on the regular beach, as I forgot my hat. Either way, sit in the sun only after 3:00 PM on your first couple days, or you'll feel like something the fire-eater just dragged in. Sunbathing is something to ease your way into.

     The next day we went out on the glass-bottom boat, and they took us to a great snorkeling spot, a vessel they had sunk on purpose to make an imitation reef for the fish. At least that's what they told us, and I couldn't swim down far enough to see if the wreck had a glass bottom or not. I told the captain to keep his eyes on the road- sinking a boat here and there is fine, but I wouldn't make a habitat of it.
     On our last day we joined a tour to Dunn's River Falls, a unique experience where you assemble at the beach and, forming a human chain, walk up natural rock steps to the top of the 600-foot falls with the water cascading around you. It was a lush setting, and I can't think of anything more awesome than a perfect natural staircase, other than a natural escalator. 

     On the way back we got behind a car that was going about 25 miles an hour, and the New York in me surfaced, and I started getting itchy and sweaty and looking around at the traffic to see if we could pass safely or, as we do in New York, unsafely. What if this unforeseen delay affected my nap? I settled back in my seat and realized that the feeling I just experienced is what vacations are designed to cure. There is no word for "late" in Jamaica. I'll continue my journey next week.
 

ONLY IN THE MOVIES

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD ( 05-20-21)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     I've been in quarantine for a while now, and I've seen just about every movie and television show that was ever made. I've also been living in the real world for, well, actually never, but I've certainly observed others doing it and it looks pretty straightforward. But there's a difference between what happens in the movies and what happens during a normal day, and they almost never intersect.

     For instance, you often see something called "quicksand" in the movies, but you never see it in real life. It's usually in the middle of a forest somewhere, and instead of simply walking around it, somebody goes right in it, and starts sinking down, down, down to nobody knows where because they always gets rescued just in time. It's about the same consistency as Rice Krispies with too much milk and not enough sugar. It always looks exactly the same every time, as if there was only one guy in Hollywood who knew the recipe. Every time I see some sand in the jungle I stand on it while I time it with my watch to see it it's any quicker than usual, but so far, nothing.

     There's no finesse in killing anyone anymore. In a James Bond movie you could take a rattlesnake and stick it under somebody's pillow, and during an inopportune fluff, CHOMP! A slow painful death, unless Rick Melén is there to save the day. "Rick! You did it! You sucked the poison from the wound and spit it out! You're my HERO!" "Wait, you're supposed to spit it out? What the hell, no one ever told me that part!" Nowadays no one even takes the time to strap me onto a moving conveyor belt heading towards a giant ripsaw. It makes me feel as though I wasn't even worth it.

     How many times in films do you see a guy say a whole bunch of rude things to a girl, and she says a whole bunch of nasty things back, and before you know it, they're rolling around on the floor, pulling at each other's hair in wanton abandon. In real life, one of the nasty things she says to me is that it looks like I haven't vacuumed the floor in at least two months so she's not rolling around on it. And one of the rude things I say to her is don't pull my damn hair. She says don't bother calling her, and I tell her I can't because I don't have her number, so she gives it to me and THEN reiterates the not calling part. And before she slams the door in my face I tell her that I wouldn't call her if she was the last woman left on Earth. Unless she wants me to. Also that it's my apartment, but she already slammed the door.

     I was in driving in New Jersey about to go over a bridge and a barrier comes down in front of me. Turns out it's a drawbridge, and I had to make a split-second decision on whether or not to bust through the barrier and jump the drawbridge. I've seen it done a million times in the movies, but I don't recall anyone ever doing it in a Dodge Dart. My mind races ahead, and I realize that not only will I not make it to the other side, but my fender will have a huge dent from the barrier, and I'm going to get a bill for the hole I put in the sailboat that was coming through at the time, and they're going to charge me to replace the barrier I busted AND I'm going to get a ticket for going 60 MPH trying to get my speed up. So I just stopped, and after 20 minutes I wish I had tried it.

     In the movies, those two platonic friends have been through a lot, and one of them realizes he's in love with her. They share a glass of wine and a long look, and his mouth embarks on an excruciatingly long journey toward hers. Finally they embrace and kiss frantically, their arms and hands moving all over each others' backs and hair and their lips smushing against each others' teeth. Thank god they got it in one take, says their dentist. In real life, we share the wine and the long look, and without taking my eyes off hers, I move in for the big moment, and I'm almost there, and she says, "What the hell do you think you're doing? When I asked you, 'is that the bathroom over there?' it sounded to you like, 'we should kiss now, cue the music?'" When she comes back from the bathroom not only has the moment passed but now I have to go too. Only in the movies.