Red Sky At Night

Lisa and I took a walk on our first night here in Virginia Beach, when we spied a red orb beyond the water.  The image was strange.  What was it?  A special effect? 

Just the moon - a fabulous view.  My camera didn't do it any justice.

Anatomy of a Picture

OK, people, let's get to the bottom of this.

By the way, hello from Virginia Beach.  The weather is good, although cool.  The company is great.  The food is great.  The beach is comfy.  The water is cold.

But I digress.  Yesterday, I posted this picture, taken by my cellphone...

Now, what was supposed to be a priceless view of #LifeIsGood as turned into a mini Adams controversy.

Yes, my legs look red in the picture.  But I was sitting in an orange sun tent (that's the key to keeping me on the beach). I did get some color on my legs the day before, but it was further up on my thigh.

But that didn't stop Facebookies from telling me that I needed more sun screen.  Even after I told them that I was fine, some persisted.

Last night, I took uploaded pictures off of my Panasonic camera.  Have a look at almost the same angle...

They look more red in the cell phone picture.

But, most of all, my girlfriend - the nurse - said I was fine.  And as I sit in room 1010B thinking about breakfast, my legs look quite colorless.

I appreciate the concern, but trust me, I'm fine.

Carry on.

A Couple of Pleasantville Videos

Not much time on this Friday.  As always, I'm reminded that on the day before you leave for vacation, you wonder if going on vacation is even worth it.

As always, thanks to Tom Prizeman, Shane McGaffey, and PCTV for having me around.  It's quite possible I might be back in the Fall.  I was only able to call one baseball game and one lacrosse game for PCT in the spring, but I was happy to do so.

Tom called a wonderful lacrosse game, and the final moments are ones that he should save for an audition tape.  It's easy, in a big spot, to lose your stuff and go "Gus Johnson-esque" (and the free world knows how I feel about that).  But, to Tom's credit, with the game on the line, he gives an excited, but measure call.  You know who he is rooting for,  but there's no harm there.

The call is here.

Tom also put together a terrific boys basketball highlight reel.  Featuring uptempo music (and props for the music choices), he drops in a few of my play-by-play calls.

Good stuff - watch it here.

So...Yeah

It's not un-American to question why in the hell Major League Baseball is subjecting everyone to these hideous aberrations.  In fact, it's QUITE American!

It is also, of course, about the almighty dollar.

I get that they're supposedly raising money with the sales of such things.  Great.

But I'll leave it to my cousin, Kris, who said it best: "Wish they would leave the uniforms alone and just donate the "profits" from sales on that day."

For me, a sitckler for tradition, I don't want to see the uniform messed with.  Certainly not the Yankees classic uniform.  I will bend, however, when it comes to throwbacks, as I am a fan.

Plus, and this can't be ignored, Memorial Day is about remembering those who perished in battle.

Keep that in mind when you're strolling the open stores on Monday.  Which should be closed.

That's a whole different rant.

Oklahoma

(Photo: Steve Gooch, AP)

The images are stunning.

Moore, OK, a suburb of Oklahoma City, took a fierce punch from a tornado yesterday afternoon.  The numbers have moved around a little bit since it first hit about 24 hours ago.  As I write, the word is that death toll - once as high as 91 - has been revised to 24.  One can hope it goes even lower.

In times like this, we always generally say the same thing: "thoughts and/or prayers." Yes, it seems trite.  Yes, it often seems lame.  Yes, it's a cliche.  Some feel that prayer is useless.  Some feel thoughts and best wishes are worthless.

Yes, action is needed.

But sometimes hopes or prayers or thoughts are all that we have or can offer.

I'm babbling, of course.  I absolutely offer my thoughts and condolences on this day, and won't apologize for it.  For a god-fearing area like Oklahoma, guess what?  There's a large chance they want your prayers today.

Of course, the Red Cross, etc, want donations as well and they'll take any dollar amount.

The truth is that there is no manual for these moments.  People do what they can.  From there you hope their heart is in the right place.

But first things first.  Let the first responders do their job.  May they find more survivors.  May they also find strength.

Let's start there.

Sports at 30

Found!  Thank you, Best Buy in the Poughkeepsie Galleria - May 18, 2013 (RA photo)

You remember certain things.  You know where you were, the date, and other details.

Of course there are the big events - the life-changing ones.

Then there are much smaller, impactful events. Take, for instance, music that blew my mind.

It was 1984. February or March, as I recall. Because we didn't have MTV, I had to record "Friday Night Videos" on VHS every week.  The first show I recorded it featured "Heart and Soul" by Huey Lewis and the News.  I hadn't thought much of them before this.  I knew they did "Do You Believe in Love" back in '82.

The song grabbed me.  Not long after, I was in my room one afternoon when a new song came on WHCN out of Hartford.  The song was called "The Heart of Rock and Roll."

Officially, I was hooked.  I had to get a ride to the Jefferson Valley Mall to but the album (we had our choice - Record Town or Record World).  I went to Record World and bought the cassette.

How could it go wrong?  I already liked two songs, plus "I Want a New Drug." And the title, perfect for a 15 year-old kid who had one thing at the top of the list of things he loved.

Sports.

This band was my kind of group.  Considering everything on the pop/rock scene at that time, they were like a sonic boom.  They had a rock edge but a pop sensibility.  They were old school, embracing the origins of American rock, but also stayed true to the current times.  They seemed like regular guys.

They made great songs.  I would eventually buy their whole catalog, and find rarities, bootlegs, etc.

My siblings fed The Beatles to me.  My sister helped make me a Billy Joel fan.  My brother brought me Led Zeppelin and Lynyrd Skynyrd.  Jazz and big band came from my dad.  My mom had all of the pop smarts from Sinatra forward.

These guys were mine.  This album, which I soon acquired in multiple formats, was mine.

Here it is, almost 30 years after its initial release (which happened on September 15, 1983).

****

New York, New York, isn't everything they say and no place I'd rather be...

The opening line of the album.  The city near where I call home.  A harmonica, good back beat, horns, even a playful video that pays tribute to rock's past.  "The Heart of Rock and Roll" has become a line that we use when talking about the very lifeblood of the genre.

Sports writer Jon Wetheim once called it one of the 10 worst songs ever.

Jon Wertheim is dead to me.  You think I'm kidding?

As I listened to it yesterday, in both the original (remastered) and live (on the included second disc, a recording from 1988 in Cleveland) still sounds great.  It still rocks, and should be played on rock stations (find some guts, radio programmers).  It's still my favorite song.

And Huey Lewis wrote it (along with guitar and saxophone player Johnny Colla) after a concert in Cleveland because he discovered, well, the heart of rock and roll really was in Cleveland, as surprising as that seemed.

By the way, where is the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame located?  Yeah...there.

Two o'clock this morning. If she should come a-calling.  I wouldn't dream of turning her away...

"Heart and Soul" is actually a cover song. I didn't know that until much later.  But I found that Exile had recorded the song in 1981.  Huey's version, which rocked it up more, became a big hit.  In fact, all of side one of the cassette/record are songs that most people know.  Beyond that, six of the nine tracks on the album got a lot of radio play. The video was fun also, featuring a party that, well, was interesting.

Back uptown to see Marie.  Nobody home, I open the door with my key. "I love you Huey" was the note I read.  But there's a strange pair of shoes...underneath the bed...

"Bad is Bad" wasn't a single.  Interestingly, they made a video for it, but didn't make one for "Walking on a Thin Line."  Again, you remember things.  I remember seeing the video for the first time at my friend Scott Wilson's house.  Scottie wouldn't be known as Huey fan, but he knew I was.

Huey and keyboardist/bass vocalist Sean Hopper wrote this along with the other members of their band Clover, a country-rock-blues outfit with bad timing.  Punk hit big in England when they were trying to make it big there.  But the seeds for the News were laid here.  The song had multiple iterations.  Dave Edmunds recorded it as a blues tune, which is the way Huey would sometimes play it live (and still does).  Phil Lynott gave it the same treatment (with Huey on harmonica).

On Sports, they took the drum sticks out of Bill Gibson's hands and had him program a drum machine.  Again, take the old and meld it with the new.  It worked for 1984.  I still love it - either way it's played.  They both have their place.

For the 30th anniversary CD, Johnny Colla (who headed up production) chose a great version, recorded in 1987 (on the Fore! tour) in Boston.  It stays true to the record, and Huey plays it up by inserting "clam chowder" where "soul stew" should go.

By the way, Clover was one of those acts who seemed to know people, including Elvis Costello.  Not many people know their music, but they had a small influence.

One that won't make me nervous.  Wondering what to do.  One that makes me feel like I feel when I'm with you...

"I Want a New Drug" was sort of misunderstood.  Sure, it said "drug" in it, but in the Nancy Reagan "Say No to Drugs" 80's, that was a no-no.  The British import said the title of the song was "I Want a New Drug (Called Love)."  Yep, avoid those nasty drug references.  The live version included for the 30th, recorded in Chicago before the album was released, even references that paranoia.

I really loved this song for a while, then I placed it a little lower on my list.  In fact, the band had begun playing it as a medley with the extremely underrated "Small World" (that featured jazz legend Stan Getz on the album in 1988).  But they recently performed it on "Jimmy Kimmel Live," and I felt the song pop again.

Plus Sean was humming it yesterday.  So that works for me.  The video might be - might be - their most famous.  I would offer that Huey putting his face in the sink full of ice is one the 80's more iconic video images.

Sometimes in my bed at night, I curse the dark and I pray for the light.  And sometimes the light's no consolation...

The boys didn't write "Walking On a Thin Line."  It did get released as a single - an ode to Vietnam War veterans. It was probably the most serious, and perhaps the most rocking song on the album.

It was also the only single to not go into the Billboard Top 10.

Used to make me so fed up.  People always asking me.  What are you now that you've grown up?  Exactly what I want to be...

"Finally Found a Home" is an album track.  They played it live, but it wasn't a single.  It's a good song, but it's one of those that the hardcore fans have a soft spot for.

The only video I could find for it was a live version from their "Rockpalast" Germany concert.

Now you're confessing, but I'm still guessing.  I've been your fool for so so long...

It took me a while to get to side two of Sports.  I played the hell out of side one.  In fact, Sports would be the first cassette that I would have to replace because I really did wear it out.  But it wasn't until I heard "If This is It" a little later in '84 that I really began to inhale the entire album.

It's a touch of a classic doo-wop, featuring the band's legendary harmonies, with a guitar solo by Chris Hayes and the pounding keyboards of Sean Hopper.

Again, the video was quite funny, despite the somewhat sad nature of a guy trying to find out if his relationship is really over.

So ends the hits.

With your sunglasses on.  Acting so young.  Only I know what you're really up to. You crack me up...

Track number eight, "You Crack Me Up", written by Huey and bassist Mario Cipollina, was and additional album track that referenced a friend that the two of them knew.  While I think the album is overall a timeless piece of work, this is probably the one track that sounds like 1983.

Apparently there wasn't a live version either, as the band recut the track live in 2012 at the Troutfarm.  It doesn't quite hold up as well.

I stopped into every place in town.  City life has really got me down. I got the honky tonk blues...

Looking back, as a musical historian, the recording of "Honky Tonk Blues" was a stroke of genius.  I say that because, as a band that looked to be a window to the past, playing a Hank Williams song was brilliant.

I don't mean Bocephus - Hank Williams Jr.  I mean his father - who wrote and recorded the song, a major hit, in 1952. 

That's some country music right there.

Charley Pride had a number one hit on the country chart in 1980 with the song.

HLN finished Sports with this track.  It's a quick song (just a little over two minutes long), and keeps the country edge, while still rocking, demonstrating how close the line is between the two genres, especially bluegrass and rock.  The HLN version adds a bridge of piano and changes the arrangement a bit.  It's a worthy successor to the other hit versions.  Huey's old friend (and Clover bandmate) John McFee plays the steel pedal guitar on it.

For the 30th anniversary, as with "You Crack Me Up", the band did a new live version.  John McFee shows up as well, and the song really kicks with some energy.  It's very reminiscent of the original Sports version but comes alive in a new way.  Newer Newsmen John Pierce (bass) and Stef Burns (guitar) step in for Cipollina and Hayes.

****

It's obvious how this album has had an impact on me.

I would go see them for the first time live in 1985 in Middletown, NY.  The live show only enhanced the fascination with the band.  Their energy, their approach, their musicianship, their lack of BS (they just played great music) and their sense of humor won me.

Their 1987 show at Madison Square Garden will, for several reasons, always be my favorite.  The place was rocking.  I felt on top of the world.

It was just one of those things.  That's the only way I can explain it.  The right album at the right time for the right kid.  It still holds for me after all of these years.  It's always on my iPad.  iPod.  On my phone.

It's always near me.  It will always be a part of me.

Scranton

I haven't had the proper time to address the Scranton trip with Sean (and I really don't now, either) but I don't think I need to do a long-winded post to say, simply, "awesome."

All of the pictures are here.

We didn't need this trip to make us closer.  Trust me.  If anything, it enhances our closeness.

I scooped him up straight from school, and his reaction was, well, like any kid.

"Aw..."

He wanted to play with his friends, before remembering that it was the big day of our trip.  We stepped outside, here he did a "punch buggy" on me, seeing a gray one in the parking lot.

Hmmm, I said.  Let's see what happens when I press this button.

His eyes lit up.  That punch buggy was, for that weekend, our punch buggy.

We were in Scranton before 6:00, arriving at the wonderful SpringHill Suites in Moosic.  Sean had never seen such a place, and I've set the bar a lot higher than a Motel 6!

After some coaxing, we went to PNC Field, home of the Scranton-Wilkes Barre RailRiders.  The ballpark was completely rebuilt in 2012, so it had only been opened for a short time when we strolled in - procuring seats behind the first base dugout.

We stayed until the end of the 7th inning, after watching some of the game, walking around the whole place, and visiting the gift shop.  Sean needed a new miniature bat, along with a hat.  Paul Silverfarb (who isn't my son, by the way), also needed a new hat.

Our room had a view of the stadium, with thanks to the nice girl at the front desk.  A perfect vantage point for some fireworks.

 The next day, we went to the main attraction.

Then it was on to Steamtown National Historic Site, where we rode a train.  We looked at trains.  We saw a lot about trains.  And trolleys at the Electric City Trolley Museum. But when you see this face, how can you resist it?

We drove a lot.  We jumped in the pool at SpringHill Suites.  We ate Krispy Kreme and more Waffle House.  We - at Sean's insistence - went to Wawa for sandwiches.  We found the Scranton photo-op sign in the Mall at Steamtown, where we also saw a reference to Dunder Mifflin (of "The Office").

Incidentally, Scranton hosted a big farewell to "The Office" the following week.  They were at PNC Field and partied downtown.  Funny for us to see.

We had Old Forge pizza (not quite New York, but I'm biased).

We went to the really cool Lackawanna County Coal Mine Tour.

We talked.  We laughed.  We played.

We had a blast.

Instead of having too much time, we almost ran out of time!  I loved it.  Loved it all.  Hated to go home and I think he did also.

We'll do it again.

It was a priceless experience.

Why We Love Sports - Chapter 1723

Sports Illustrated photo

The Rangers beat the Washington Capitals last night, 5-0, in Game 7 of the Easter Conference quarterfinals.

The significance of this is that it was done in Washington.  It is, quite honestly, shameful to be beaten like that in Game 7, the penultimate game of a series.  The Washington Post has the details.

In a series in which Rangers goalie Henrik Lundqvist started terribly and finished phenomenally, it was nice to see the offense make life easier for him.

They will next play...the Boston Bruins.

That's where the story really begins.

Great friends Mick McGowan and Tom Oderwald came to "The Press Box" for a fun show.  After, Ryan DeMaria and I joined them for a post-show dinner at Sundown Saloon on Greenwich Ave.  We knew we could have dinner and hopefully watch some hockey.  After securing a table in the bar area, we glanced at the TV's.

Rangers 4, Caps 0...OK, game likely over (and it was, as I said above).

Maple Leafs 4, Bruins 2.  In fact, the game had been 4-1 in favor of Toronto.  In the third period.  In Boston.  In Game 7.  With all of the emotion of recent times in Beantown, sometimes you just run out of steam.  Which, as in Washington, wouldn't be acceptable (again, it's Game 7) but it happens.

Then something wondrous happened.

As in Game 6, the Bruins pulled their goalie, Tuukka Rask, and scored a goal to cut the deficit to one.  In Game 6, it was not enough, and the Leafs held on to force Game 7.

On this night, somewhat miraculously, the story had a different ending.

With just under a minute to play, Patrice Bergeron stuffed the puck past Toronto goalie James Reimer, and the game was tied.  Two goals within approximately a half minute.

Sitting in Greenwich, even I found myself cheering.  I couldn't help myself, and I realized that almost instantly.  I loved the drama - the unlikely notion of a team down three goals (oh, the dreaded three goal lead) in Game 7 coming back to tie it and, ultimately, winning it, as Bergeron netted the big tally in overtime (New York Times).

That's why we love sports.  That reaction.

The look of "holy s***" on Ryan's face.  The "wow's" of Mick and Tom.

Incidentally, fast forward to approximately 4:42 on this video.  It's show from above the Air Canada Centre in Toronto, where fans are watching on a big screen.  The reaction is, well, ugh.  Watch the fans scatter at 2:45 in this one.

As for video, here it is, courtesy CNBC.


But, wait!  There's more!  Deadspin has footage of Jack Edwards calling the game-winner, and Toronto in stunned disbelief.

Deadspin also feels NESN did a bad thing by showing Toronto after the tying goal but, hey, your mileage may vary.

Hey, look, we're not supposed to like Boston in New York.  I get that.  And the Bruins now advance to play the Rangers.  Each team is coming in with energy and momentum.  Each fan base can tell you while they're going to win...or lose (and I heard plenty of the former coming from WFAN as I drove home).

At the same time, we remember September 11 around here.  We remember Mike Piazza.  Tino Martinez.  Derek Jeter.  Scott Brosius.

We - Mets fans, Yankees fans, etc, let out an amazing noise thanks to each of these men.

Some are calling this a monumental moment in Boston sports history and, given the Marathon bombing of just a month ago, I can't really argue.  But I'd like to let it breathe before we do that.  It was a conference quarterfinal game.  There's a long way to go, but still, oh my goodness.

Maybe we can add Patrice Bergeron to the list of legends.

With all that being said, it's on, Boston.  Game 1 is Thursday.

And, oh how I wish the late Pat Turk was around for this series.  Mother versus son.  Pat and her much-despised "King" Henrik, against Harold's B's.  Oh...baby.  Just saying.  That would have been fun.

Upon seeing Bergeron score, I posted the famous words of Jack Buck to Harold's Facebook page: "I don't believe what I just saw!"

May 6th

Yankee Stadium, May 9, 2012

It was one year ago today that Lisa and I finally went on a real first date.  Oh yeah, we met for a few coffees (or chai tea) back in 2009/2010, but there wasn't really a feel of a "date" to those times.  It was simply "see ya at Starbucks" and talk.  Something was off.  We weren't ready.

We each went our separate ways and said an occasional hello to each other.  By April, 2012, we were both single again.  So we talked on the phone, picked up where we left off, and decided to go out - on May 6.

I remember it being fairly simple.  Nothing fancy.  A jeans and polo shirt kind of night.  I remember we had trouble finding each other at first.  I was parked in one area.  She was waiting in another.

We went for a walk through a park and grabbed dinner at a diner ("You're buying tonight," she said.  "It's our first date.").  Then a stop at CVS for Twizzlers and onto my first drive-in movie (the awful Zach Effron flick, The Lucky One, and jeez, I don't even remember the second one - some horror thing that we left 20 minutes in).

We made fun of the movies.

I remember there was a nice tension to the night.  What was this?  Was this for real?  After saying good night (awkwardly, I recall), I waited maybe 10 minutes before texting her to say I had a good time.

That, she told me later on, was smart.

By the time of our second date - a Yankees game that I wasn't initially invited to but a ticket opened up for me - it seemed clear that we kind of liked each other.

And so it went from there.  Camping.  Hiking.  Shopping.  Cape Cod.  Florida.  Movies.  TV.  Just talking.

Soon...Virginia Beach.

We laugh.  Nothing means more to me than that.  The laughter.

Truthfully, we're still learning each other.  For us, that means real life.  My quirks.  Hers.  She has no use for sports (unless she's playing them and, therefore, kicking my ass in them).  I live for them.  I love to shop but breeze through a store quickly.  She's meticulous and looks at everything.

Real life meant job loss (mine - damn layoff).  It means death and sickness and money and trying to get vacation time and time apart and working multiple jobs and family and a child and...

I want people to get to know her better.  Crowds aren't her thing (see: last year's overwhelming congregation at Cardinal Stadium on Thanksgiving).  She's smart.  Funny.  Attractive.

Real.

Sadly, we won't see each other today, thanks to my ragged schedule.  "The Press Box" is tonight.  I also have to work tomorrow, Wednesday, and Thursday nights also.

Ugh.

Even if my schedule was easy, I'm battling a nasty cold.  Listen to tonight's show and you might be able to hear it for yourself.  That kept us apart over the weekend.

But she's always in my thoughts.  Always.

And here we are.  One year later.

My Last Days: Meet Zach Sobiech

Chances are, you don't remember Zach Sobiech, who I introduced you to here.

But you should.  He's extraordinary.  And you should watch this.  Because, for 22 minutes, it's uplifting, heart-wrenching, sad, happy, funny, and cute.

So watch.  Please.


Thanks.

What Has Happened?

Remember this?


Part of a great marketing plan by the Yankees and Adidas in the late 90's.  These spots were brilliant - absolutely hysterical.  I can remember being among family and friends and everything coming to a dead stop when these commercials came on.  Not only were the Yankees dominating on the field (125-50 in 1998, anyone?), but off the field, they were connecting with the public.

Here's another one.  This one was completely brilliant.


Not only is David Cone great in the "lead" role, but the classic delivery from Luis Sojo: "Hey, Coney, why don't YOU have a dance?"  And note - briefly - the presence of former Yankee Clay Bellinger to the right of Sojo.  According to something I read, Cone wanted him in the spot to get him some extra cash.

I interviewed Cone several years ago.  Very likeable.  Really good guy.

All of this is apropos of nothing.  Just an indication that times, just like the overpriced ballpark, have changed.  A further note that the current team is that much tougher to warm up to.

Moving on...

Baseball Broadcasting

This is Graham McNamee.  Every sports broadcaster should know his name.

This makes Rob happy.

Very.

Happy.

My good friends at PCTV76.org, Tom Prizeman and Shane McGaffey, put the broadcast online of Pleasantville's baseball victory over Hastings.

Tom and I called the action, with Shane doing his usual fabulous job on camera.

It was the first baseball game I had called in almost three years, when I did the Renegades and Brooklyn Cyclones, a day after calling the Gades and Staten Island Yankees.

There was a little rust, but it felt good.

I miss it like you have no idea.  Unless you are a loyal reader of this blog, in which case you probably know I have probably whined about not calling baseball incessantly.

I've got one more game scheduled with Tom for the spring season.

The Mary Higgins Clark Article

My story with the wonderful Mary Higgins Clark has made it to web.

It got edited, very slightly, from the initial version due to space restraints.  I don't think I need to get the unedited version up, since I feel you'll get the point if you are so inclined to read it.

I worked in references to Don Imus and the New York Yankees.

That makes me a happy person.

This, along with Tom Coughlin, has been my favorite story to write (since joining the Bulletin).  Coming on Thursday (in print), I profile a band made up of high school students that got a favorable review from my editor.  So there's that.

Ready to Travel!

It's no secret that I love me some Waffle House.  In fact, as much as I wish they would open one nearby, it's probably for the best.

Therefore, it sets up the opportunity for a road trip.

At Sean's request.

Tomorrow, after school, we will hit the road for a late birthday present.  Yes, I know, his birthday is in February.  Hear me out.

Sean has been yelling at me to take him back to WH for a while.  Believe me, having lived through the horror of watching Lisa eat at one in Florida with her equally horrified parents (and their mocking of me), I know to choose my Waffle House companions carefully.

The Scranton, PA area has not one, but two (Moosic and Clarks Summit).  But there needed to be more to this trip to make it worth it, right?

Yup.  Trains.  Steamtown National Historic Site.  Plus the Lackawanna County Coal Mine Tour.  Plus the Electric City Trolley Museum.  And Krispy Kreme donuts.  And (rebuilt) PNC Field, home of the Scranton-Wilkes Barre RailRiders.  And pizza in Old Forge.

And, if that wasn't enough, Sean said, and I quote: "Can we go to Wawa?"

I'll find one (actually, I found two, off of Interstate 80)!

All of this is his doing.  His trip.  Not mine.  OK, maybe it's our trip.

Trains. trolleys. Swimming.  A hotel (not sure the last time he stayed in one).  ROADS!  Win! Win!

Sean feels like he's living large!

And we're going alone.  I was told Lisa could go (alas she has to work).  Otherwise, he wanted this to be him and Daddy.

Initially, I thought maybe we'd make it a day trip.  Then I toyed with the idea of grabbing a room via Priceline.

But no.  I've booked us a room at the SpringHill Suites Scranton (in the back yard of PNC Field).  For our wheels, I've rented a car via Enterprise (at a crazy good price).  Again, he had a say in all of this.

For those who know the area, I could have stayed at the Radisson Lackawanna Station Hotel but, with the exception of the lobby, it's not obvious that you're staying in an old train station.  If you see the outside of the building and walk around in the lobby, you get the idea.  Plus the price isn't great.  Plus parking.  Plus it honestly didn't blow me away when I stayed there a year ago.  However it was the place where some of the idea of this trip began.

So we'll visit that.

But the calendar worked against us.  We were aiming for mid-March, but discovered the coal mine (which stays pretty cool) didn't open until April 1.  Then I saw that neither the trains or trolleys weren't having riders until late April.  Oh, and I don't see Sean every weekend (though, to his mothers credit, we probably could have worked something out).

So this weekend was truly the first opportunity to go and have the full effect.  Sean has been very patient.

I'm pumped.  Excited.  Thrilled.

I know, some may scoff.  How could we go to Scranton?  Home of "The Office."  Home of...er...not much.  Why not go somewhere else?  Somewhere more glamorous?

It's about the experience.  And hey, I found some cool things to do.  True Americana!

It's reminiscent of a trip I took to Ohio back in 1999.  My brother and two of his kids drove out and met us.  We went to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  I went to Pro Football Hall of Fame.  We went to a big basket building!  I drove the Y Bridge of Zanesville!

We drove into Pittsburgh and I visited Three Rivers Stadium and saw the four (at the time) shiny Lombardi Tropies! (In case you need a reminder, they have six now.)

I loved it.  Loved. Loved. Loved it.

It doesn't have to be big for me to make me happy.  It's about the adventure.

Next month, Lisa and I are going to Virginia Beach.  We'll be road tripping for that too.

Sean won't be with us (damn school and all) but I still can't wait.  Beach.  Maybe baseball (Norfolk...we'll see).  Beach.  Roads.  Beach.  Food and fun (and I'll sneak out for Waffle House and Krispy Kreme).

(And yes, I'm quite aware that a great place called Richmond has Waffle House - excuse me, Waffle HOUSES - and Krispy Kreme and Wawa.  I want to get there, too!)

Kars4Kids

If you live around New York (or apparently anywhere else in the country), you know the song.

"One-eight-seven-seven Kars for Kids. K-A-R-S Kars for Kids. One-eight-seven-seven Kars for Kids. Donate your car today."

The original song, which serves as a commercial for a firm that receives used cars for donations to Jewish children and their families, is played numerous times throughout the day on radio stations. They also sponsor things such as the Yankees Radio Network (heard in New York on WCBS 880).

In other words, turn on the radio in New York and you hear it. A. Lot.  Like "Jack and Diane" a lot.

Now, I get it.  When I'm not writing, I'm still handling the programming logs for the Business Talk Radio Network and Lifestyle Talk Radio Network. I've been known to schedule certain spots, such as Geico, 55 times a day.

In their case, Geico has a rotation of commercials featuring the Gecko, Maxwell the pig, and others.

In the case of Kars4Kids, there are only two spots that I've heard. The original, and a newer rock version.

They're both, well, they're both, er, something.

If you haven't heard it, a boy sings the first verse, and a man (sounding like he's trying to be Johnny Cash) sings the second verse. After an announcer reads the details, they return and sing together.

In radio parlance, it is a classic "doughnut" commercial with singing surrounding the actual commercial read.  I practiced many of these at Connecticut School of Broadcasting.

At one time, I would sing the song in front of Sean and he would scream at me. I eventually tired of it myself. Where I would once turn it up loudly on the radio just to get a reaction from Sean, it soon became a battle to see who could turn the radio off the fastest.

It's like "Name that Tune," in that I can turn off the Kars4Kids commercial in one note!

So earlier this week, as I drove to pick Sean up from school for our weekly dinner, I heard the commercial during the Mike Francesa show (aka "Mike's On" or whatever he's calling it) on WFAN.

I decided to take to Twitter (when I wasn't driving) to write.

I truly loathe the Kars for Kids commercials. #StopNow.
— Rob Adams (@double5) April 23, 2013

I didn't tag them. Didn't direct it at them. But damned if they didn't search and find it.

@double5 sorry to hear that, maybe this article will make you feel better kars4kids.us/tejw0Y :-)
— Kars4Kids (@Kars4kids) April 23, 2013

The link they included was priceless.

What else could I say?

@kars4kids Well played.Truly well played.
— Rob Adams (@double5) April 23, 2013

A fellow Yankees fan, known on Twitter as YankeeMegs, reached out to me to say the song has also caused a similar reaction between her and her son, leading Kars4Kids to send her a pair of earbuds.

I mean, seriously, what else can you say, except bravo for having a sense of humor?

By the way, if you even slightly believe you're a Yankees fan, follow Megs now. Don't think twice.  go to Twitter, set up an account, and follow her. Whether you're a Yankees fan or not. She's cool, and tweets to everyone. And she knows her stuff.

And she has camped in a volcano.

There are reasons she has nearly 5,000 followers (just a mere, oh, LOT more than me).

But back to Kars4Kids. While the commercial will still drive me (there's a bad pun in there) to still change the station (and I'm mostly listening to satellite anyway), I have to say that, with a sense of humor, they've made a fan.

A laugh goes a long way. Especially the ability to laugh at oneself.

Well played indeed.

Stupid Politics: Ridgefield Edition

Sometimes, idiocy astounds me.

This sign is in a bookstore, Books on the Common, in Ridgefield, CT.  It seems they had a simple sign announcing new arrivals outside their door but some overzealous, over-officious individual with an agenda decided to go whine to the Zoning Department.

It reminds me of the kerfuffle in Carmel, NY when a music store had the temerity - THE HORROR - to set up a speaker that played music during the holiday season.  Because of some foolish town law, they were told that would have to pay to play those tunes before rational thought took over.

Now, to be clear, I don't have a dog in the fight. I stepped the shop once - on my first day at The Bulletin.  The lady in there seemed very nice, and I love book stores.  Plus I think supporting local businesses is an important thing to do in this era.

But regardless, I think this is foolish.

Shame on those who complained.  Further shame on Ridgefield for allowing the complaint to stand.

Blast from the Past - Road to Richmond

It's hard for me to believe that I've never written this story before.   There are a couple of road trips that I've wanted to write about.

(Yes, I said "road trip" which might tempt you to click somewhere else...but I think they're tales worth telling that will be enjoyable)

The year was 2009.  I was trying to stay active and still have fun (mostly with Sean) during our year of living with Laura and her daughters.  That June, Sean and I went to Richmond (ah...R-Va) to hang with Jon, Rebecca, Rose, and Lilah.  There are posts from there on the blog for your review.

Anyway, as the summer of '09 moved along, I decided to go back again that August.  That's where our story begins.

I didn't need to be in Richmond (I thought) until after 5:00, so I had time to either meander along the route. My intention was to hit a few road spots, with a shopping break at the VF Factory outlet in Reading, PA. After Reading, I felt I could roll to Richmond with ease.

Best laid plans and such. Ugh.

I got Sean squared away at his daycare just up the street from the house and climbed into the car.

It was 7:52 AM.

The plan was to get gas (funds were tight but there's a station in Brewster that is reasonable and only a few miles away). The road lineup was set to be I-684 to Saw Mill Parkwy (which becomes the Henry Hudson Parkway) to I-95 to I-80 (with a few stops around the Delaware Water Gap area) to PA 611 and work my way to US 22 to US 222 to Reading. Then it would be US 222 to US 30 to I-81 to I-695 to I-70 to US 29 to I-495 to I-95.

Easy, right? What could possibly go wrong on a hot Friday in summer?

Again. Ugh.

Oh, it started off well enough. To be honest, other than dropping off Sean and getting gas in Brewster, I don't really remember much of the drive until I was on I-80 towards western New Jersey. This, by the way, is remarkably rare for me.

Brewster, NY.  It's 8:16 AM, according to the time stamp on the camera.

All of the pictures are available on my Flickr site here.

After that, the details are quite clear. I reached my first stop – Columbia, NJ. A tiny hamlet that is ringed by I-80, US 46, NJ 94 and the Delaware River, the population is just 229 (per the 2010 Census).

Stay to the left...

My goal here was to see one of the road peeps sites (a Holy Grail, if you will). For a stretch, US 611 crossed the Portland-Columbia Toll Bridge into New Jersey.  A sign hung near the bridge, and still stands there, even though the road was decommissioned in 1972, and exists only in Pennsylvania as PA 611.

This is one of those road stops that I had heard about, but had never pursued it.  Traveling alone, I knew I could.  Finding it isn't too difficult, though some in the "community" don't want to publish the details for fear some "pirate" might go steal the shield (again, the "Holy Grail" comparison.  I sense an Indiana Jones reference).

It took me no time to find it.  Might seem foolish to you, but I was pleased.

US 611 doesn't exist anymore.  It's 10:07 AM.

Seeing the pictures reminds me how cloudy it was that day, although it cleared up at times.  The weather would soon play a role in the day.

I crossed into Pennsylvania via I-80 and stopped at the welcome center for a few maps.  Of particular interest to me (besides the fact that there was a rare line to get into the men's room) was that the welcome center had a rooftop garden on it!  That being said, I didn't take any pictures of interest while I walked around up there.

My next stop was the small town of Portland, PA (population 520).  A foot bridge sits just up the river from the vehicle toll bridge.  It was time to walk back into New Jersey.

Across the river sat Columbia, and I strolled a few blocks of the town, taking a few pictures before crossing back to Pennsylvania.

This is New Jersey.  Pennsylvania is straight ahead.

It was just about 11 when I returned to the car and began to work my way down PA 611.  I didn't plan on any stops between Portland and Reading.  I figured I would get something to eat there, and probably get some gas, but just intended to enjoy the scenery.

In fact, I even backed down on taking pictures for this stretch.

I used a GPS for this trip, for the heck of it.  Do I need a GPS?  No.  Do I enjoy it?  Sure, it's handy at times.  Of course I argue with it, but that's OK.

Planning to take PA 611 straight into Easton, the GPS suggested I turn into Stockertown, which would take me to PA 33, and on my merry way.

Things came to a stop.  Nothing was moving.  I watched a delivery man jump out of his truck and run into Tony's Pizza on Main Street and return empty-handed.

He needed a restroom break.  Whatever was going on probably wasn't good.  I needed to turn around.  My first attempt put me on Buskill Street, which would serve as an alternate to get to PA 33.  Except the bridge that was on Buskill St. was no more.  Fail.

I retraced my steps and found my way onto PA 33.  I hoped that this would be my only blip on the day.

As I approached US 22 near Allentown, it was 11:53.  I probably lingered too long around the Portland/Columbia area, I thought, but I could make up for it.

But as I roared along US 22, to the merge with Interstate 78 west, traffic...slowed...down.  Temporary signage screamed that the road was closed a few exits ahead.  I jumped off at the first exit and (PA 100), as all traffic went south, I went north.

I worked my way back to US 22 East, jumped on PA 309, merged onto I-78 East and grabbed the exit to US 222. But I knew - with all certainty - that I was going to run into a wall of cars.

I know now that this is the point when I should have abandoned ship.  Reading and their inexpensive Yankees and Steelers merchandise could wait.  I could use any number of other roads to get to I-95 and go onto Richmond.  But...no.  I kept going.

US 222 is mostly a two-lane road between Allentown and Reading, save for a few stretches around Kutztown and just outside of Allentown.  All of that traffic on I-78 needed a place to be dumped.  It went to US 222.

With the GPS, a map, and my brain, I found the first turn to a town called Topton.  The road opened up again.  I'd have to take the long way, but I would get to Reading and out of the 78/222 mess via side roads, PA 662 and PA 12.

And then the skies opened.  Impressively.  Just as I was heading into Reading.

I now realized that I would have to be quick in the VF Outlet.  I made it as the rain let up for a few minutes and did my thing, determined to not let this trip pass.  I had tried to go the VF store in Reading a few weeks earlier, on my way back from a weekend in Aberdeen, MD, but the store was just about to close when I drove up.

A few polo shirts with the beloved interlocking NY on it were purchased (might have cost $8 each) and I was back on the road, along with a quick gas stop.  The next picture I took, back on US 222, was at 2:24 PM, after I had been back in the car for about 20 minutes.

I passed on eating, eager to get some driving done, now concerned about my time.  It was after 2:00, and, in theory, Richmond was approximately four hours away.  But it was also Friday, and raining.  Oh and I still had Baltimore and Washington to contend with.

My father was cringing somewhere.  As travelers, Pop and I had a rule: avoid Washington rush hour at all costs.  Now I was staring the beast in the eye.

I passed a line of traffic going the opposite way outside of Lancaster on 222.  They only had one lane open while construction went on.  My first break of the day, I thought.  I moved through Lancaster around 2:40 and into York, dealing with traffic lights along US 30, at 3:15.  At 3:52, I moved onto I-695, the Baltimore Beltway.

Things were slow on the Beltway, with me reaching the eastern end of I-70 at 4:18. I-70 is known for ending at a park-and-ride due to local opposition.  The road was one of several canceled projects in Baltimore.  Scott Kozel's excellent website, Roads to the Future, details the canceled projects.  AA Roads has plenty more.

I didn't have time to visit the park-and-ride, but I did snap this sign.

Columbus 420...St. Louis 845...Denver 1700...Cove Fort (where I-70 ends) 2200.

Feeling good after getting off the Baltimore Beltway, I knew I still had Washington to deal with.

US 29 started out good, as an expressway, then becomes a collection of traffic lights.  Still it beat being stuck in traffic, which I feared would be the case on I-495, the Capital Beltway.

And I was.

We moved like turtles.  It didn't matter which side of the Beltway I was on.  It was jammed.  Just after 5:10, I cross the Potomac into Virginia.  But the traffic - a Friday, trying to get to the shore, home, wherever - was unrelenting.  I thought maybe the traffic gods were trying to show me a good sign as I approached I-95 near Springfield...

A rainbow, at 5:34.

I-95, my dear friend, would surely be the answer to speeding things up.

No shot.  I tried the Fairfax County Parkway to US 1 to get back to 95.  Not so good, as I had done this once before with a little success.  This time, I sat for lights and slow drivers.  My blood pressure spiked.  I began to go stir crazy.

I stopped taking pictures, since dusk was causing the picture quality to be poor.  And I truly began to understand how people can feel road rage.  It didn't make sense.  Why were we moving so slowly?

Finally, at 7:00, after five hours in the car, with nothing to eat since breakfast, I pulled off in Fredericksburg at a Target.

I needed shaving cream.

The stop was like magic.  I got back on 95, maybe 10 minutes later, and it was a new road.  The traffic had mostly let up, and what was on there was moving, albeit fast.  Either I flew with it, or there would be trouble.

It was pure bliss.  In fact, after this long day, I felt the greatest relief.  It was driving as I wanted it to be.  The windows were open.  The roof was open.  The music was blaring.  I roared into Richmond triumphantly (I'll ignore the urge to use a lame Civil War General reference).  I reached my destination and turned off the car.

It was 7:52 PM.  Twelve hours - EXACTLY - after  I left Carmel, NY that morning.

The road home, while interesting, couldn't be nearly as interesting as this.  It wasn't.

I'm a Bad Man

I had just finished covering a story at a nearby elementary school when I was driving through Wilton Center. A busy area with stores and offices, I proceeded carefully, doing maybe 25 or so, watching for people crossing the street, cars, etc.

I drove on, seeing a car that was beginning to pull out into the street when the driver stopped short.

Then she adjusted herself so that she could make sure - absolutely 100% - to ram her horn at me.

Whatthe??

Oh.

A stop sign.

Because I was watching the traffic, the people, and being uber-careful, I missed a poorly placed stop sign.

Damn.

My bad.

I drove away laughing.  At myself.  At her (the image of her making SURE to honk was priceless).

So if she ever reads this, I humbly apologize. 

Back to work.

Mary Higgins Clark

I interviewed the wildly successful author Mary Higgins Clark on Monday for the Wilton Bulletin.  The finished product will be in tomorrow's paper.

I loved doing this one.

Seriously.  Over a thousand words on a remarkable woman.

She laughed with ease over the phone when I mentioned that I had listened to her so many times on "Imus on the Morning." She told me great stories about editing and writing for radio.

She mentioned Beyoncé and Jay-Z.

This was a story that gave me a chance to dig around and relay stories.

I asked on Facebook if anyone would like to submit questions to ask her.  A few people brought some value to the day.

Lisa's sister, Gina, wanted to know if Ms. Clark really once owned part of the New Jersey (now Brooklyn) Nets.  That made it into the story.

I couldn't get everything in from our 25 minute chat, but I like what I did put in.

OK.  Back to work.

In Less Than One Month

It's coming next month...


AwwwwwwwYEAH.