It's CAR-Mull

 

The Sybil Ludington statue in Carmel, NY

I was minding my business having lunch recently when a local regular walked in.

In my mind, he auditioned for "The Sopranos" somewhere along the line and I'm shocked he didn't get the part. What I'm saying is, you know the type.

He's not the silent type and speaks in a "Bada Bing" type of cadence. You certainly expect a "fuhgeddaboutit" to emanate from him at least once a day.

In this case, he was telling a staff member about his day and how he had an appointment at a place that was straight out of "Deliverance."

He continued.

"Car-Mel or Caramel or something," he says.

I -- proud son of Mahopac, located in the Town of Carmel -- am sitting a few feet away. I also lived in Carmel for four years.

To hear him tell it those of us in Putnam County lack teeth and, given we're like "Deliverance," well, I'll just let that sit there.

In my brain, I'm having an inner debate as this continues. Do I try to handle this with humor? Do I interject at all? Do I just stay out of it?

Given this sort of an "everybody knows your name" type of atmosphere and fun is being had, I step out of my comfort zone to protect my former 'hood.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," I begin. My soliloquy is short but effective. The first thing is to make sure that Bada Bing knows that it's pronounced "CAR-mull" and that it's nothing like the affairs of "Deliverance."

After jokes about hunting, Bada Bing goes on to tell me how beautiful it is but that the roads were narrow and windy.

"Well," I countered. "People do fish and, sure, there's some hunting up there as well."

He asked about the road -- specifically Stoneleigh Ave. To be sure, if coming from Connecticut off 684, that portion of Stoneleigh Ave winds towards the Croton Falls Reservoir and even traverses it via a causeway before reaching "civilization" with complexes including Putnam Hosptial Center.

Making fun of where I'm from was often sort of low-hanging fruit for my coworkers back when I first started working in lower Westchester County. 

The thing was that I wasn't mad. It bothered me in that it amused me and, generally, it wasn't accurate.

OK, maybe a little accurate.

The bottom line was that, while perhaps he wasn't totally wrong in what he was saying, I still wasn't going to let him dump on my homeland. It's like family. I can knock it but you can't unless you know better.

So, sure, I recognize the faults of where I'm from but I also know the good and there is plenty of that.

In the end, Bada Bing and I laughed. It was "all good" and "no worries."

We wished each other well.

"Enjoy your Carmels," he said, noting caramel candy in his humor but pronouncing it as if the New York town has a twin.

I'm sure he left to go listen to some Dean Martin records on his ol' Victrola.

We each went about our day, likely no more enlightened than when it began.

The Sybil Ludington statue, with Sean and his stuffed Kitty and Elmo
back when we lived in Carmel.