ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (10-09-25)
Two weeks ago Gidget (The Cutest Dog in the Land) and I showed our civic appreciation by attending "Celebrate Somers" day at the Towne Center. We met some nice people, browsed the local businesses, saw some adorable little dancers and enjoyed the beautiful 80-degree weather. That's celebration enough, although I was hoping that there might be cake. Gidget did score some dog treats, which she saved till later. People often tell their kids not to accept candy from strangers, but I never subscribed to that advice, because in a candy-accepting relationship, I find it hard to believe that I would not be the stranger one.
As we strolled around the square, we made some new friends, and ran into some old ones. And when I say "we," I am referring to Gidget, and the guy she drags around at the end of a leash (me). If she could answer questions regarding the makeup of her breed, how old she is and whether she sheds or not, she wouldn't need me around at all, and I'd have to come up with a convincing reason to hang around.
There were cheerleaders and dance teams of all age groups, and each group gave a little performance. There were some tiny little munchkins who were learning at a very early age that you could get people to do just about anything you wanted simply by virtue of being adorable, and whatever you couldn't get done that way, bonking them over the head with a pom-pom would probably do it. As one progressed farther up the age scale, it became apparent that if your Mom thought she could get you to clean your room by letting you join the group, it still wasn't going to happen unless they actually made it part of a dance routine.
There were a bunch local businesses represented, and they make you realize that you really need to get out of the house once in a while and interact with other human beings. It's getting to be a lost art. There was a Pilates studio, for instance, which I'm told is a great way to stay in shape. "Wow, you do Pilates?" You ask. Well, I just did the one Pilate. If I did more, I might wake up my endorphins, which surely would make fun of me.
Also represented were a chiropractor's office, a dentist's office, even a recruiting booth for the Somers Volunteer Fire Department, where you can save peoples' lives in your spare time. There was a booth for a day spa, so called because you can't spend the night there, even if you think that being covered head to toe in mud is preferable to hearing your husband dissect the reasons why the Giants offensive line is so offensive. Write me separately if you wish to do that.
There was a basketball player from the Harlem Wizards there who entertains every year. He teaches kids the finer points of ball handling and stunt dribbling, while dishing and goading them to distraction. It's fun when they do it right, and even more fun when they don't. Are these life skill you can eventually bring to the workplace? I say, YES! "Did you happen to look over my proposal?" You ask. "Yes I did, and I thought it was stupid." "Well give it back to me then, I'm going over your head." "Well, a.), I'm on the top floor, and b.), I took the proposal, passed it behind my back, through my right leg, then through my left, tossed it in the air and bounced it off my butt and out that open window." "Dude! we're on the 30th floor! Is that it down there? Didn't there used to be a hot dog guy down there? I guess he's not going anywhere for a while." "Not if he submits that proposal he's not."
There was a whole parking lot dedicated to classic cars, and you could just wander around and check them out- I thought I recognized the back seat of one of them. Some had their hoods up, and my gear-head friends would love that. There was a Ford Taurus with its hood up that didn't look that classic, it just looked like maybe the battery was dead. But there were some nifty muscle cars, Camaros, some old Mustangs and Corvettes, and even a restored Model T. My very first car was a rusty, fusty, musty Fiat 128. I'm not saying it was a muscle car or anything, but consider that the stapedius muscle, while the smallest in the human body, is also extremely insignificant. My Dad once had a Dodge Dart "Swinger" the color of a banana that was suffering from extreme carsickness. As you might imagine, the amount of actual swinging you could do once an eligible female found out what your ride was, was minimal at best. "What you driving, Sugar?" "I roll with a Dodge Dart. It's got a slant-six engine, with a- Hey- where are you going? Did I happen to mention that I have 170 cubic inches under the hood, soaking wet?"
There were many other dogs enjoying the day with their owners, and I tried to get Gidget to make some friends, but she prefers cats, and there were no cats that had penciled the day into their schedule . I told Gidget, you have to learn how to make friends with other dogs. Sneaking up behind somebody and sticking your pointy nose in their butt is no way to introduce yourself. It hardly ever works for humans, at least that's what I'm told.
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