My Town

Lake Mahopac, as seen from Four Brothers Pizza Restaurant in 2015

It was nice to see Mahopac get a little love today from the New York Times.

I'm fond of the place I've called home for most of my life.

While I was born in Peekskill, my family had come to Mahopac years earlier, when my grandparents had a house on Lake Secor, which they eventually made their full-time home, leaving Hartsdale.

Mahopac had a hospital until right around the time I was born. So, I can't say I'm truly native but I might as well be.

I've lived in the Town of Carmel -- which includes Mahopac -- every day of my life.

Look, I've heard about the flaws. It's a MAGA-land. It has been accused of problems with racism and other issues. None of that is excusable to me and I won't try to explain it away.

But, like it or not, this is my home.

I don't have the experiences of others. I've read what fellow residents have said over the years, with author Jeff Pearlman speaking of his love of the town but frequently criticizing the "mean streets" of Mahopac. A quick search of Jeff's website reveals plenty.

These streets weren't mean to me. We laughed a lot here. Everyone got picked on. Literally, everyone did. I was occasionally called "Richie Cunningham" for being tall, thin (yes, really) and having freckles. I got picked on for plenty of things.

There was some bullying but I guess I feel like it made me better. I don't know.

And, look, I did more than my fair share of teasing back.

I'll never say this was a perfect place but I have always been proud to be from here.

I didn't like when I read stories such as the racism issues that came up at a basketball game back in 2014. Here's more from Jeff Pearlman.

My life has been about not caring what you looked like or what you were. If you were my friend, that was it. You were going to tease me and I was going to do the same and we were going to play kickball or wiffle ball of baseball or ride bikes up to the front lawn of Austin Road Elementary School where we would design plays in football.

Then we'd run the Dolphins' "Hook and Lateral" play to perfection.

Then Frank Viggiano and I would climb to the top of the (closed) school.

Maybe we'd ride to Rodak's and get meatball wedges or grab some Carvel.

Maybe we'd jump in Lake MacGregor or Lake Secor or Kirk Lake, but rarely in Lake Mahopac itself (but never Lake Casse).

I hiked trails and built forts and explored the woods and swamps all around. I often found myself walking around the remains of an old summer camp just up the road where I could see the outline of a baseball field.

We played, laughed, and lived in this town.

We were up early and stayed out late, sometimes breaking out the flashlights at night.

I won three straight Mahopac Sports Association baseball championships here (screw the '85 co-champions...we would have won) and I was captain of Coach Lou D'Aliso's squad. I know it's probably akin to scoring four touchdowns at Polk High (Married...With Children reference) but it still means something to me, as does being the captain of the bowling team at Mahopac High School.

I graduated from there with pride in '87.

I raised my son around these "mean streets."

Perfect? Nah, but it sometimes felt like it.

Innocent, for sure.

Sensitive? No. That never worked in Mahopac -- long before it became known as "The Pac."

But, it's flawed. I know it.

And, yes, I realize I've been here forever, and forgive me for the faux pas, but I pronounce it "MAYO-pack." I realize many others say "Muh-HO-pack" and I'll even say that's the correct way if it brings any resolution to the topic. Just don't say "MeOW-pack" or some of the other awful pronunciations I've heard.

I love our history of the hotels and being a vacation community. I love knowing that Babe Ruth visited here and the Fonz was here and that Frank Lloyd Wright created designs for a house that's on an island in the middle of the lake here.

I love the lessons I've learned here.

I regret and am sorry for whatever mistakes I made here, but they also made me a better person (at least I hope so).

I would leave. I would. If a chance for some kind of better life presents itself, I'd likely cry hard but cherish the years and plan to visit.

But this is home -- warts and all -- and it was nice to read the piece in the Times today.

And I'd love to show you around one day, like I've done for so many.

This is my town.