What?
Obama sells out Israel!
It is clear to me -- based on Obama's speech at the UN today -- that he does not understand the history of the plight of the Palestinian people. It is NOT Israel that has created the dire conditions they are in-- it is a combination of the Arab... countries throwing them out over the years, and their own leaders caring more about hate and power than they do the successful lives of their own people. Golda Meir once said there can be no peace until the Palestinains love their children mor than they hate Israelis.
Regardless of your politics -- left or right or center-- regardless of your support or lack of it for Obama -- you should understand that Obama is selling Israel, the only true democracy and our ally in the Middle East--that he is selling them out.
I hope and pray that Israel has the political will to do what they need to to survive.
http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2009/09/23/obama-world-dont-expect-america-fix/
Regardless of your politics -- left or right or center-- regardless of your support or lack of it for Obama -- you should understand that Obama is selling Israel, the only true democracy and our ally in the Middle East--that he is selling them out.
I hope and pray that Israel has the political will to do what they need to to survive.
http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2009/09/23/obama-world-dont-expect-america-fix/
Blog
I just redesigned my blog and my website. I am going to try and dedicate some time to do more writing. But--that's all I have to say for now.
Birthday Bike
The big present from my folks on my ninth birthday was a bike. It was a shiny, black bike with big fenders and two metal baskets on the back. It was for a big boy… I had graduated from the smaller “kids” bike I had been riding up until then.
A bike was a big deal for a boy back in 1959. My friends and I would leave our homes early in the morning on a non-school day and not return until it was time for dinner. We always knew it was time for dinner because that’s when our stomachs couldn’t take the hunger any longer. Up to that point in the day, we would scrounge what food we could from the money we had between us. One of my friends, Sam Smith, had a Grandfather who owned a small general store and sometimes we would ride our bikes the few blocks down Forest Glen Road to get a Yoo-Hoo (my favorite chocolate drink) and a pickle from the large wooden pickle barrel that was kept in the front of the store.
There were no malls to ride to and hang out; there were no game arcades to go to. But we had a nearby creek to visit and get wet and dirty and bother the fish and toads, the railroad tracks were always fun—especially when we would put a penny down on the track and wait for the train to run over and flatten it. Not too far away was the Knights of Columbus parking lot (but that was really only good for riding your bike in circles).
Near the K of C was a large cemetary. It was always fun to invent games at the cemetary. Sometimes we would park our bikes and see who could touch the most headstones in one minute. We would run through the cemetary as soon as the timekeeper would yell “go” (whoever had a watch was the timekeeper) and count out loud for each headstone we touched. Now the inherent problem with this was that everyone running around and screaming out a number as they touched a headstone would cause some of us (maybe just me) to lose count. Also, who could really trust any of us to tell the truth about how many we had touched. Another game we played was to ride your bike from one end of the cemetary to the other using the headstones as obstacles you had to drive around. Much like going through a maze. We didn’t often get to finish this game because many times one of the caretakers would run out of a little house near a large crypt and scream at us to get out.
This birthday night in 1959, all of my family, the four kids and my mom and dad, finished dinner and then I was offered up the cake. I can’t recall exactly what kind of cake it was, but no doubt it had to be chocolate, as that was about the only kind of cake I ate as a kid. I had not yet refined my tastes to include carrot cake, one of my grown up favorites.
After I made my wish (which I certainly don’t remember what it was for—but I can tell you it was not for world peace or good health) my mom rolled a brand new bike into the dining room. Having a bike in the house was not unusual. We lived in an old four story farm house and you could make a complete circle going from the dining room to the living room to the front entrance hall to the kitchen and back to the dining room. And we kids made that circle all the time with roller skates, bikes and sometimes just running the circuit. So, although I was pleasantly surprised that I got a bike for a gift, I was not shocked to see it in the house.
I was very excited to get the shiny new bike. There was a metal basket attached to each side of the back fender. These two baskets looked like they would hold a lot of stuff. And, when you are nine years old you need lots of places to put stuff. And on a bike, well, that’s the best, because the stuff could be transported from place to place, and you could then empty the baskets and put new stuff in them—and transport that stuff where it needed to go. Stuff could be rocks from the creek bed, headstone tracings from the graveyard, Yoo-Hoo from Sam’s Grandpa’s general store, a slingshot and its ammo, all kinds of good stuff.
My ninth birthday coincided with the weekly meeting of my Cub Scout Pack and I was dressed in the blue and gold shirt and pants and familiar kerchief and kerchief slide. It was almost time for me to leave the birthday party and go to the Cub Scout meeting. But, I had taken my bike outside and figured I had time to give it a quick ride before my dad was ready to drive me to scouts.
Our house on Forest Glen Road had a gravel driveway at the back of the house which led down to Glen Ave that ran along the side of our house. Glen Ave. was a short street of about four or five houses on a little hill, with our driveway at the top of the hill. When you left my driveway and made a right you went down hill and quickly encountered a stop sign and the street turned right onto Holman Road. This part of the road, this asphalt spot at the stop sign at the intersection of Glen Ave and Holman Road was to become known to my wife and kids as “The Spot”. Forty nine years after my ninth birthday, I would visit this spot and photograph it with my cell phone, send the image to my daughters with no subject or text and they would immediately know what they were looking at.
So, that evening before my Cub Scout meeting, I spent five or ten minutes riding the short distance down Glen Avenue and back to my driveway, breaking in my new bike. At one point, my brother Paul (aged fourteen at the time) asked if he could go for a ride. I don’t know if I gladly handed the bike over to him, but I did let him try it out.
Looking back over time there is always a moment you say to yourself, “if only.” “If only” I had done this, or “if only” I had not done that. “If only” I had said yes… but to me, on this particular day of my ninth birthday, my moment was “if only” I had said no when Paul asked me to get on the bike so we could ride together down the hill.
Picture a fourteen year old boy and his nine year old brother trying to ride on a bike built for one person. I looked at Paul straddling the beautiful seat on my new bike, then my eyes viewed the nice shiny baskets on the back fender and I realized that the place for me to sit was on the handlebars.
The part of my dress for the evening that I did not mention was my shoes. For any boy in 1959 these had to be Converse All Star Sneakers. The laces, as usual, were too long for the shoes. Figuring out what to do with the extra length of laces was not something I would have cared about as a nine year old. Another problem with sneaker laces was that invariably the lace was too long on one side of the shoe and too short on the other side. I sure didn’t care enough to take the time to re-lace my shoes. And, it would have taken three or four tries to get the length exactly right anyway, and I didn’t have time for that.
If answering Paul “yes” about riding double was the 1st mistake of my ninth birthday, my second mistake was not re-lacing my shoes and making sure the laces were exactly the correct length on each shoe. Now the laces were just hanging out, doing their own thing in the wind, getting ready to get caught in the spokes of the front wheel of the bike as I sat on the handlebars on that short ride down the hill.
What I remember next is being on my back, my father looking down at me while he was pushing on my head. I heard a siren wailing and it felt like my body was being tossed from side to side.
Here is what I was later told about the events of that birthday evening.
The shiny new black bike flipped on the way down the hill because my unkempt shoe laces got caught in the front wheel spokes while I was perched on the handlebars. Apparently my brother Paul was thrown clear of the bike. Meanwhile, I landed on the street and the bike became airborne for a moment before the bright shiny new metal baskets on the back fender came to rest on my skull, opening my brains for the world to see. There were no bike helmets available in 1959.
My friend Scott ran to the front door of my house and yelled, “Bruce is at the bottom of the street all covered in blood!”
My mother then proceeded to do what many mothers of the 50’s would do at that moment—she ran into the middle of the yard and started screaming, “Oh no! He is going to die!”
My dad, being a bit more calm and a Boy Scout leader with first aid training began yelling at her, “Bunny (her nickname for Bernice) Get me some Turkish towels—lots of them—NOW! And call the operator and get an ambulance here!”
A couple of things to take away from his shout out to my mom. First, he specifically asked for Turkish towels because they are thick and highly absorbent and, as Scott had said, I was covered in blood. The high absorbency of the towels, along with my dad’s quick action no doubt saved my life.
The second thing that my mom was instructed to do was to dial the operator to get an ambulance. In 1959 there was no 9-1-1. In fact the world’s first 9-1-1 call was made in Haleyville, AL on February 16, 1968.
More of what I remember about that birthday evening. I was in the ambulance; siren blasting and I kept asking my dad if I was going to be able to go to the Cub Scout meeting that evening. With all the wisdom of a thirty-five year old father watching his third born spouting blood and brains, he lied and said, “Absolutely.”
I asked the same question to my doctor, Dr. St. Martin. I don’t remember what he said, but I do remember the soothing sound of his deep voice being the last voice I heard before surgery.
Four hours later, after two blood transfusions, 54 stitches and one attempt to jump out of a window—I awoke to find myself in a hospital bed, wearing a turban of gauze on my head and surrounded by my family—except my brother Paul. He ran away right after the accident because he thought he had killed me. My uncle found him about 20 miles away after hours of searching.
I think it was at this point in my awareness that I knew I had missed the Cub Scout meeting.
A bike was a big deal for a boy back in 1959. My friends and I would leave our homes early in the morning on a non-school day and not return until it was time for dinner. We always knew it was time for dinner because that’s when our stomachs couldn’t take the hunger any longer. Up to that point in the day, we would scrounge what food we could from the money we had between us. One of my friends, Sam Smith, had a Grandfather who owned a small general store and sometimes we would ride our bikes the few blocks down Forest Glen Road to get a Yoo-Hoo (my favorite chocolate drink) and a pickle from the large wooden pickle barrel that was kept in the front of the store.
There were no malls to ride to and hang out; there were no game arcades to go to. But we had a nearby creek to visit and get wet and dirty and bother the fish and toads, the railroad tracks were always fun—especially when we would put a penny down on the track and wait for the train to run over and flatten it. Not too far away was the Knights of Columbus parking lot (but that was really only good for riding your bike in circles).
Near the K of C was a large cemetary. It was always fun to invent games at the cemetary. Sometimes we would park our bikes and see who could touch the most headstones in one minute. We would run through the cemetary as soon as the timekeeper would yell “go” (whoever had a watch was the timekeeper) and count out loud for each headstone we touched. Now the inherent problem with this was that everyone running around and screaming out a number as they touched a headstone would cause some of us (maybe just me) to lose count. Also, who could really trust any of us to tell the truth about how many we had touched. Another game we played was to ride your bike from one end of the cemetary to the other using the headstones as obstacles you had to drive around. Much like going through a maze. We didn’t often get to finish this game because many times one of the caretakers would run out of a little house near a large crypt and scream at us to get out.
This birthday night in 1959, all of my family, the four kids and my mom and dad, finished dinner and then I was offered up the cake. I can’t recall exactly what kind of cake it was, but no doubt it had to be chocolate, as that was about the only kind of cake I ate as a kid. I had not yet refined my tastes to include carrot cake, one of my grown up favorites.
After I made my wish (which I certainly don’t remember what it was for—but I can tell you it was not for world peace or good health) my mom rolled a brand new bike into the dining room. Having a bike in the house was not unusual. We lived in an old four story farm house and you could make a complete circle going from the dining room to the living room to the front entrance hall to the kitchen and back to the dining room. And we kids made that circle all the time with roller skates, bikes and sometimes just running the circuit. So, although I was pleasantly surprised that I got a bike for a gift, I was not shocked to see it in the house.
I was very excited to get the shiny new bike. There was a metal basket attached to each side of the back fender. These two baskets looked like they would hold a lot of stuff. And, when you are nine years old you need lots of places to put stuff. And on a bike, well, that’s the best, because the stuff could be transported from place to place, and you could then empty the baskets and put new stuff in them—and transport that stuff where it needed to go. Stuff could be rocks from the creek bed, headstone tracings from the graveyard, Yoo-Hoo from Sam’s Grandpa’s general store, a slingshot and its ammo, all kinds of good stuff.
My ninth birthday coincided with the weekly meeting of my Cub Scout Pack and I was dressed in the blue and gold shirt and pants and familiar kerchief and kerchief slide. It was almost time for me to leave the birthday party and go to the Cub Scout meeting. But, I had taken my bike outside and figured I had time to give it a quick ride before my dad was ready to drive me to scouts.
Our house on Forest Glen Road had a gravel driveway at the back of the house which led down to Glen Ave that ran along the side of our house. Glen Ave. was a short street of about four or five houses on a little hill, with our driveway at the top of the hill. When you left my driveway and made a right you went down hill and quickly encountered a stop sign and the street turned right onto Holman Road. This part of the road, this asphalt spot at the stop sign at the intersection of Glen Ave and Holman Road was to become known to my wife and kids as “The Spot”. Forty nine years after my ninth birthday, I would visit this spot and photograph it with my cell phone, send the image to my daughters with no subject or text and they would immediately know what they were looking at.
So, that evening before my Cub Scout meeting, I spent five or ten minutes riding the short distance down Glen Avenue and back to my driveway, breaking in my new bike. At one point, my brother Paul (aged fourteen at the time) asked if he could go for a ride. I don’t know if I gladly handed the bike over to him, but I did let him try it out.
Looking back over time there is always a moment you say to yourself, “if only.” “If only” I had done this, or “if only” I had not done that. “If only” I had said yes… but to me, on this particular day of my ninth birthday, my moment was “if only” I had said no when Paul asked me to get on the bike so we could ride together down the hill.
Picture a fourteen year old boy and his nine year old brother trying to ride on a bike built for one person. I looked at Paul straddling the beautiful seat on my new bike, then my eyes viewed the nice shiny baskets on the back fender and I realized that the place for me to sit was on the handlebars.
The part of my dress for the evening that I did not mention was my shoes. For any boy in 1959 these had to be Converse All Star Sneakers. The laces, as usual, were too long for the shoes. Figuring out what to do with the extra length of laces was not something I would have cared about as a nine year old. Another problem with sneaker laces was that invariably the lace was too long on one side of the shoe and too short on the other side. I sure didn’t care enough to take the time to re-lace my shoes. And, it would have taken three or four tries to get the length exactly right anyway, and I didn’t have time for that.
If answering Paul “yes” about riding double was the 1st mistake of my ninth birthday, my second mistake was not re-lacing my shoes and making sure the laces were exactly the correct length on each shoe. Now the laces were just hanging out, doing their own thing in the wind, getting ready to get caught in the spokes of the front wheel of the bike as I sat on the handlebars on that short ride down the hill.
What I remember next is being on my back, my father looking down at me while he was pushing on my head. I heard a siren wailing and it felt like my body was being tossed from side to side.
Here is what I was later told about the events of that birthday evening.
The shiny new black bike flipped on the way down the hill because my unkempt shoe laces got caught in the front wheel spokes while I was perched on the handlebars. Apparently my brother Paul was thrown clear of the bike. Meanwhile, I landed on the street and the bike became airborne for a moment before the bright shiny new metal baskets on the back fender came to rest on my skull, opening my brains for the world to see. There were no bike helmets available in 1959.
My friend Scott ran to the front door of my house and yelled, “Bruce is at the bottom of the street all covered in blood!”
My mother then proceeded to do what many mothers of the 50’s would do at that moment—she ran into the middle of the yard and started screaming, “Oh no! He is going to die!”
My dad, being a bit more calm and a Boy Scout leader with first aid training began yelling at her, “Bunny (her nickname for Bernice) Get me some Turkish towels—lots of them—NOW! And call the operator and get an ambulance here!”
A couple of things to take away from his shout out to my mom. First, he specifically asked for Turkish towels because they are thick and highly absorbent and, as Scott had said, I was covered in blood. The high absorbency of the towels, along with my dad’s quick action no doubt saved my life.
The second thing that my mom was instructed to do was to dial the operator to get an ambulance. In 1959 there was no 9-1-1. In fact the world’s first 9-1-1 call was made in Haleyville, AL on February 16, 1968.
More of what I remember about that birthday evening. I was in the ambulance; siren blasting and I kept asking my dad if I was going to be able to go to the Cub Scout meeting that evening. With all the wisdom of a thirty-five year old father watching his third born spouting blood and brains, he lied and said, “Absolutely.”
I asked the same question to my doctor, Dr. St. Martin. I don’t remember what he said, but I do remember the soothing sound of his deep voice being the last voice I heard before surgery.
Four hours later, after two blood transfusions, 54 stitches and one attempt to jump out of a window—I awoke to find myself in a hospital bed, wearing a turban of gauze on my head and surrounded by my family—except my brother Paul. He ran away right after the accident because he thought he had killed me. My uncle found him about 20 miles away after hours of searching.
I think it was at this point in my awareness that I knew I had missed the Cub Scout meeting.
I'm Back!
I haven't added any news to my blog in quite a while. Some of you who have blogs may find it easy to keep a daily column, but I am not feeling inspired to write that often.
What I am inspired about is that I have lost 50 pounds since last October. That means I am fitting into clothes in my closet that either A.) I have never fit into before, or B.) haven't fit into in many years. It is a good feeling to wake up in the morning and not worry about whether my clothes are going to be too tight to wear. In fact, my clothes are generally too big right now, but with the exception of a few things, I have not bought anything new and won't until I reach my ultimate goal--and that means another 15 pounds to lose.
You might ask what diet plan I am on and basically I have just reduced my intake of food. Generally I am eating less than 1,000 calories a day. Before I started this I was probably eating 2,000 calories or more a day, with some of that-- fried foods. The best product I have found (actually Linda is responsible for introducing me to this) to help me eat better is Healthy Choice Cafe Steamers, a frozen entrée that is unique in that you are actually steaming the food. The frozen food is in a plate that sits above a frozen sauce. As you microwave the food, the sauce heats up and steams the food above it. When the dish is completely heated, you pour the food from the top dish into the bottom dish of sauce and mix it together. Because each entrée is portion controlled, you know exactly what the intake is of calories, grams of fat and sodium. I generally eat one for lunch, and usually choose an entrée that is about 250 calories.
Other things Linda has found that make keeping calories under control are 100 calorie packs of things. For instance, Diamond Almonds, Reeses wafer cookies, Onion Bagels, Special K bars, even Cape Cod potato chips--all 90 to 100 calories for a filling snack.
I'll report back after I lose my final 15 pounds, and that could take a while!
What I am inspired about is that I have lost 50 pounds since last October. That means I am fitting into clothes in my closet that either A.) I have never fit into before, or B.) haven't fit into in many years. It is a good feeling to wake up in the morning and not worry about whether my clothes are going to be too tight to wear. In fact, my clothes are generally too big right now, but with the exception of a few things, I have not bought anything new and won't until I reach my ultimate goal--and that means another 15 pounds to lose.
You might ask what diet plan I am on and basically I have just reduced my intake of food. Generally I am eating less than 1,000 calories a day. Before I started this I was probably eating 2,000 calories or more a day, with some of that-- fried foods. The best product I have found (actually Linda is responsible for introducing me to this) to help me eat better is Healthy Choice Cafe Steamers, a frozen entrée that is unique in that you are actually steaming the food. The frozen food is in a plate that sits above a frozen sauce. As you microwave the food, the sauce heats up and steams the food above it. When the dish is completely heated, you pour the food from the top dish into the bottom dish of sauce and mix it together. Because each entrée is portion controlled, you know exactly what the intake is of calories, grams of fat and sodium. I generally eat one for lunch, and usually choose an entrée that is about 250 calories.
Other things Linda has found that make keeping calories under control are 100 calorie packs of things. For instance, Diamond Almonds, Reeses wafer cookies, Onion Bagels, Special K bars, even Cape Cod potato chips--all 90 to 100 calories for a filling snack.
I'll report back after I lose my final 15 pounds, and that could take a while!
The Winning Ticket
Each year, for the first 2 weeks in December, Milford Hospital has a display of about 60 decorated Christmas Trees (not live) in its lobby. The trees are donated and decorated by different businesses, community service groups, churches, school groups and private citizens. The money collected by the hospital goes to the hospital auxiliary. The public can view the trees and purchase a raffle ticket for $2 to try and win the tree of their choice by placing their ticket in a box with the correct tree number. Some of the trees come with different goodies--one had a lawnmower, one was a $1,000 getaway to a local casino resort, many had toys.
Each year Linda and I review the trees and purchase raffle tickets and put them in the boxes of the trees of our choice... and each year our phone remains silent when the winners are notified.
Until this year!! Linda won the tree that was her 1st choice. The tree was called Junior Jewels and was donated by the Milford Junior Womens Club. Take a look at the picture. It had sparkling "jewels"on the beautiful red tree skirt and wonderful ornaments.
Each year Linda and I review the trees and purchase raffle tickets and put them in the boxes of the trees of our choice... and each year our phone remains silent when the winners are notified.
Until this year!! Linda won the tree that was her 1st choice. The tree was called Junior Jewels and was donated by the Milford Junior Womens Club. Take a look at the picture. It had sparkling "jewels"on the beautiful red tree skirt and wonderful ornaments.
Sunday Drive
Linda and I went for a good old fashioned Sunday drive today. Actually, it wasn't quite so old fashioned as we used the new GPS system I installed on my Treo smartphone and picked a Connecticut POI (point of interest) to drive to, and then we followed the voices of Sugar 1 and Sugar 2 as they guided us along the route. One voice gives the step by step directions and the other pronounces the street names.
We chose the Burlington Trout Fish Hatchery, about 50 miles from home. If you go to the Connecticut page on my website, you'll see a few of the pictures I took there. We looked in on a few of the hatchery pools and walked around for a few minutes, before heading on our way.
We chose a different route back which took us through the towns of Farmington, Bristol, Cheshire, Plainville, Hamdem, New Haven and Orange.
A few weeks ago, we drove to Sleeping Giant State Park in New Haven to see the "Sleeping Giant" outline in a local mountain. Although we found our way to the park, we were too close to actually see the outline of the giant. Well, today during our return home from the Hatchery, we actually drove by far enough away to get a great view of the Sleeping Giant. An unintended consequence of today's drive.
We chose the Burlington Trout Fish Hatchery, about 50 miles from home. If you go to the Connecticut page on my website, you'll see a few of the pictures I took there. We looked in on a few of the hatchery pools and walked around for a few minutes, before heading on our way.
We chose a different route back which took us through the towns of Farmington, Bristol, Cheshire, Plainville, Hamdem, New Haven and Orange.
A few weeks ago, we drove to Sleeping Giant State Park in New Haven to see the "Sleeping Giant" outline in a local mountain. Although we found our way to the park, we were too close to actually see the outline of the giant. Well, today during our return home from the Hatchery, we actually drove by far enough away to get a great view of the Sleeping Giant. An unintended consequence of today's drive.
American Gangster
Jackie came home from Hofstra Friday night and this afternoon Linda, Jackie and I went to see the newly released movie American Gangster.
I thought it was a good movie and Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe both did a very good job in their roles. The script is based on the true store of Frank Lucas who was a drug dealer in Harlem in the 70's. Frank Lucas is still alive and wheelchair bound at 77 years old.
I haven't read any reviews of the movie, so I don't know how the critics found it, but I suspect it will be a box office hit.
After the movie, we had dinner at the Mall Food Court. I had my usual Lotus Express Mandarin chicken, vegetables and rice.
It was a great afternoon.
Now I am listening to Rutgers Football vs. UCONN. It is not on TV in this area, so it is the radio (via internet broadcast).
I thought it was a good movie and Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe both did a very good job in their roles. The script is based on the true store of Frank Lucas who was a drug dealer in Harlem in the 70's. Frank Lucas is still alive and wheelchair bound at 77 years old.
I haven't read any reviews of the movie, so I don't know how the critics found it, but I suspect it will be a box office hit.
After the movie, we had dinner at the Mall Food Court. I had my usual Lotus Express Mandarin chicken, vegetables and rice.
It was a great afternoon.
Now I am listening to Rutgers Football vs. UCONN. It is not on TV in this area, so it is the radio (via internet broadcast).
Michael Clayton
Linda and I went to see Michael Clayton tonight. This is the new movie starring George Clooney as the fix-it man in high powered NY law firm.
The script idea is not new... big corporation does its best to create products that kill its customers, then has a class action law suit filed against it and will do anything to protect its profits and the keep the victims down.
But, it was an enjoyable movie and I thought George Clooney did a good job in his role. I also liked the performance of Austin Williams, who played his son Henry.
There were some good shots of New York.
So, if you like Clooney, a little action and NY based movies, then go see this one.
The script idea is not new... big corporation does its best to create products that kill its customers, then has a class action law suit filed against it and will do anything to protect its profits and the keep the victims down.
But, it was an enjoyable movie and I thought George Clooney did a good job in his role. I also liked the performance of Austin Williams, who played his son Henry.
There were some good shots of New York.
So, if you like Clooney, a little action and NY based movies, then go see this one.
Trip to Rutgers
Yesterday (10/20/07) Linda and I drove to Rutgers to see Mandy and take her some school supplies--home baked cookies, bottled water and bracelets that she is selling in memory of her friend Sharon that died recently of cystic fibrosis.
Whenever we drive to Rutgers there are a few decision points for us as to which route to take. We listen to WCBS 880 "traffic on the 8's" every ten minutes to try sand make our drive as traffic free as possible. For instance, before we get to exit 15 in Norwalk, we make sure there is no bad traffic between Norwalk and the NY line on I95. If there was, we could scoot over to the Merritt Parkway (15) at exit 15.
Assuming we are continuing on I95, we then need to decide if we are going to go over the George Washington Bridge to NJ or the Tappan Zee Bridge over the Hudson to the Garden State Parkway. This decision needs to be made before exit 2 on I95 in order to jump on I287 to the Tappan Zee. If we choose the GWB, then we need to decide whether to stay on I95 and take the Cross Bronx Expressway (which is usually filled with trucks) or take the back roads (Hutchinson Parkway to the Cross County Parkway to the Saw Mill Parkway to the Henry Hudson Parkway to the GWB. These are all parkways and trucks are not allowed on them. But they are winding roads and the overall distance is a bit longer than staying on I95--even thought it might be a little quicker.
If we cross the GWB then we stay on 95 to the NJ Turnpike and get off at exit 9. If we take the Garden State, we hit the NJ Turnpike at exit 11 and only have to travel to exit 9.
Is all of this boring for you? Coming home yesterday we took Mandy to the parking lot where her car was and used our GPS to get a bit of a new route back to the NJ Turnpike.
For lunch we visited Houlihans Restaurant. Here is a picture of Linda and Mandy from there:
Whenever we drive to Rutgers there are a few decision points for us as to which route to take. We listen to WCBS 880 "traffic on the 8's" every ten minutes to try sand make our drive as traffic free as possible. For instance, before we get to exit 15 in Norwalk, we make sure there is no bad traffic between Norwalk and the NY line on I95. If there was, we could scoot over to the Merritt Parkway (15) at exit 15.
Assuming we are continuing on I95, we then need to decide if we are going to go over the George Washington Bridge to NJ or the Tappan Zee Bridge over the Hudson to the Garden State Parkway. This decision needs to be made before exit 2 on I95 in order to jump on I287 to the Tappan Zee. If we choose the GWB, then we need to decide whether to stay on I95 and take the Cross Bronx Expressway (which is usually filled with trucks) or take the back roads (Hutchinson Parkway to the Cross County Parkway to the Saw Mill Parkway to the Henry Hudson Parkway to the GWB. These are all parkways and trucks are not allowed on them. But they are winding roads and the overall distance is a bit longer than staying on I95--even thought it might be a little quicker.
If we cross the GWB then we stay on 95 to the NJ Turnpike and get off at exit 9. If we take the Garden State, we hit the NJ Turnpike at exit 11 and only have to travel to exit 9.
Is all of this boring for you? Coming home yesterday we took Mandy to the parking lot where her car was and used our GPS to get a bit of a new route back to the NJ Turnpike.
For lunch we visited Houlihans Restaurant. Here is a picture of Linda and Mandy from there:
Winding Down a Week of travel
It's Thursday (10/18/07) and I am in the St. Louis airport waiting for my flight to Hartford. The plane is not at the gate yet, but the flight leaves in half an hour.
My layover here was 3 hours. The good news is -- no need to run between gates. The bad news is that it is a 2 hour 20 minute flight to Hartford, so it is always discouraging to have to wait someplace longer than it takes to get home.
Having said all that, it has been a productive week businesswise. I spent 2 days in a very intense workshop attended by the CEOs and heads of all the different supply channel partners in the industry, including senior executives at Walmart that mandated our industry change if we want to continue to supply Walmart with magazines. Generally, what Walmart wants Walmart gets. In this situation, this is a good thing because there are problems (opportunities) that have been around for years and years and years and our industry talks about fixing things, but never does. There is no question in my mind that these last 2 days will be looked back on as a reformation of our supply channel, a channel that has not changed significantly in over 70 years.
The meeting was on the Univ of Arkansas campus and I stayed at a hotel nearby the facility. Big problems -- air conditioning that did not work consistently, lamps in the room with no place to plug them in and a sleep number bed with no socket to plug in the remote to adjust the sleep number.
One morning there were 20 of us in the restaurant for breakfast and the hotel was ill-prepared. Understaffed, the food did not arrive in time for all of us before we had leave to catch our shuttle over to the meeting. The next morning the restaurant was very well prepared and we all received a discount on that morning's breakfast. (I had a fruit plate).
American Airlines just announced they overbooked the flight and they are looking for volunteers to stay overnight in St. Louis.
Here comes the plane to the jet way now...
My layover here was 3 hours. The good news is -- no need to run between gates. The bad news is that it is a 2 hour 20 minute flight to Hartford, so it is always discouraging to have to wait someplace longer than it takes to get home.
Having said all that, it has been a productive week businesswise. I spent 2 days in a very intense workshop attended by the CEOs and heads of all the different supply channel partners in the industry, including senior executives at Walmart that mandated our industry change if we want to continue to supply Walmart with magazines. Generally, what Walmart wants Walmart gets. In this situation, this is a good thing because there are problems (opportunities) that have been around for years and years and years and our industry talks about fixing things, but never does. There is no question in my mind that these last 2 days will be looked back on as a reformation of our supply channel, a channel that has not changed significantly in over 70 years.
The meeting was on the Univ of Arkansas campus and I stayed at a hotel nearby the facility. Big problems -- air conditioning that did not work consistently, lamps in the room with no place to plug them in and a sleep number bed with no socket to plug in the remote to adjust the sleep number.
One morning there were 20 of us in the restaurant for breakfast and the hotel was ill-prepared. Understaffed, the food did not arrive in time for all of us before we had leave to catch our shuttle over to the meeting. The next morning the restaurant was very well prepared and we all received a discount on that morning's breakfast. (I had a fruit plate).
American Airlines just announced they overbooked the flight and they are looking for volunteers to stay overnight in St. Louis.
Here comes the plane to the jet way now...
