Those Bags are not My Bag

What is it with people carrying bags on trains ? Has it gotten 200% worse the past year or have I just become older and more intolerant? Or maybe I am running out of blog topics? But seriously (cue laugh track here) everyone seems to have some type of baggage that they either swing like a bolero, or affix to themselves so they can squeeze into type spaces (invading my space specifically). On the LIRR in the past week I have experienced 3 hits or near misses to my nose by riders’ backpacks or shoulder bags. On the subway in that same time sample I have been tormented ( woe is me!) by at least that many gym bags, pocket books and shopping bags. So what is the underlying reason for this ? Backpacks are very popular and most people (grade schoolers and seniors alike) keep them on their backs (why do you think they call them backpacks?) even in a crowded subway. Add to this the fact that most people are entranced by their smartphones, oblivious to train etiquette and my entreaties (get your boom box antenna out of my nostril ! ) and every other human on the train and planet , and this is a volatile mix. The true answer though is not to complain or push back or follow suit with your own baggage attachments or bump stocks. Just make your personal footprint ASAP (as small as possible), with no baggage attached, and peacefully chant your mantra (only 4 years to retirement!) 

Basil news: The weather is cold so the basil children have been shivering and shriveling. Linda used the few remaining leaves last weekend as we bid a fond farewell to our sweet smelling herbs. Oregano is braving the cold like a real trooper and graced our mahi dinner yesterday. Next event will be the planting of garlic cloves in winter for a spring sprouting. Maybe we do on Christmas Day! 

Degrees of separation: (this is a new basil blog feature that connects seemingly unrelated concepts or people, by events or relationships in our lives and past) 

Thurman and Elvis
Thurman Munson was the heart and soul of the Yankees in their ‘70’s championship years. He was rookie of the year, MVP and led them to 2 World Series championships. He was also a pilot. In the summer of 1979, I was working at Amato’s food market in Rockaway Borough, NJ. The owner was Frank Amato, a very short Italian man in his 50’s who screamed at everyone and everything. We were all petrified of him. As I was making a delivery in the Amato’s market van on August 2, 1979, I heard on the radio that Thurman had crashed his plane and was dead. I couldn’t believe it. I instinctively pulled over to the side of the road, to focus all of my attention on what was being said. Frank Amato’s son was a classmate of my brother Joe. My brother said that he was a real hot-head like his dad, but much taller and wider. Frank had a pair of blue suede shoes that he often wore to school. Lord have mercy on anyone who stepped on those shoes while dashing through the crowded hallways between classes. As Elvis so famously sang “you can do anything but stay off of my blue suede shoes”. 

Elvis has left the blog. 

Keep the faith y'all

Google is killing people - well almost

A recent, somewhat dangerous project allowed me to stumble upon a chilling , shocking possibility. While painting the shutters last month I was perched at perhaps the highest altitude of my history, using grandpa’s extension ladder. While painting the bedroom shutters from outside, I was finishing up when I realized I had forgotten to paint the tops of the shutters. After a moments thought I realized that my concern was silly. The only way to see that the shutter tops were unpainted was from above, and nobody will be walking on our steep roof. And then it hit me like the cold breath of the grim reaper......Google earth, satellite photos. The complete view of the world, including 150 Lagoon Blvd. , from above. And zooming capabilities that could spot that woodpecker clanging on our chimney top....and the unpainted shutters. As I began to climb higher yet on the ladder, a sobering idea occurred, its origin unknown. How many others have had this same fear of embarrassing google revelations from the heavens, and have fallen to their death trying to avoid it? How many roofers, tree trimmers, flagpole polishers, hot air balloon seamstresses and the like, have plunged to their deaths, wrestling with the dilemma that I now knew was a losing battle. I retreated down the ladder to terra firma, relieved that I had not been googled to death.

Things get loose: Better tighten up! Everyone who has ever turned a screwdriver or fiddled a wrench, or lived beneath the shelter of an enclosed dwelling, knows that over time things get loose. The cabinet hinges need to be tightened occasionally. That water under your feet is a good indication that the hose on your kitchen faucet sprayer needs tightening. And if you neglect the warnings that say your eyeglasses are loose, you may lose your lenses, and your sense of direction. Also, in life, other more subtle, less tangible items get loose. Sometimes our mind gets loose, and we forget to concentrate on the things that we love, and the priorities that we should be concentrating on. Bruce Lee, the great martial artist, talked about “kime” (pronounced kee-may) or tight mind. It is the state of consciousness where your mind is very clear, and you are not overthinking. Your body is doing the job it has been taught to do through repetition , and it is clear and agile enough to respond and adapt to new input. When you are doing the right thing, and your mind and body is in a place it has been before due to good habits and proper preparation, kime is much more possible. Sometimes our discipline for working out or other personal responsibilities gets loose. Sometimes our relationship with others gets loose. Sometimes our vision for our own direction gets loose. Given that our lives are extremely busy, and complicated and proceeding at an ever increasing pace, this is normal and expected. As Archie Bell and the Drells once told us, all you need to do is tighten up!

Basil update: My basil seedling children are growing , mostly in pots but some have graduated to the garden. The recent stretch of sunny days and Linda’s motherly love and watering has inspired them and made them strong. The broccoli had a bad case of CBW (cabbage butterfly worms) which is now cured, but the month of crawling worms and being chewed on has taken a psychological toll. After a week of chlorophyll therapy with a vegetable psychologist , the broccoli is finally showing signs of bearing fruit. Parsley was initially very nervous and self conscious and her growth seemed stunted. I was worried that she was being bullied by the large and sour dill hovering over her. She seems to have found her sense of purpose and is now sprouting. Oregano has been gone for years and we are happy that he has joined us again. He is smelling aromatic and lifting the spirits of everyone within nose-shot.

I will post again in a few more years. Keep the faith y'all.