Countdown

Only 8 days until Christmas and this weekend is the last big push by shopping malls to bring in the crowds. Gary is among the rabble, heading out at 7:30 this morning to start his shopping. (I wonder if I'll see him today?)

More importantly, it is just 10 days until the Quad Challenge--4 movies in one day on one ticket! Can I do it this year? Last year I quit after three, but I'm feeling the magic and I believe it's going to happen. For one thing the movie selection looks great. Opening on Christmas Day: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (about a boy who loses his father on 9/11, based on the Jonathan Safran Foer book; War Horse, directed by Stephen Spielberg, now a Broadway play; and Iron Lady with Meryl Streep as Margaret Thatcher. Already playing that look interesting: Carnage, for those of who missed the play God of Carnage; Hugo, directed by Martin Scorcese about a boy who lives in the Paris train station. If I had to fill in, I might go to the latest Twilight movie. I already saw The Descendants with George Clooney, which was excellent, but may have been a tactical error on my part, considering it will still be playing. I'll have to check the rule book, but I don't think repeats are allowed.

So, lots of good things to look forward to, even after a wonderful Christmas with all three kids coming home. Yippee!  All my best to all of you.

Masquerading as a New Yorker

Don't worry, I know we're past Halloween and in the midst of the Holidays, but on my recent visits to the city, I've been masquerading as a New Yorker, trying to shed my boring, suburban middle-aged self. I went in last week for a reception/cocktail hour for an organization I work with and I got all spiffed up in metropolitan black. Tossed aside my ever ready New Balance cross trainers and wished I could don some 4 inch heeled black boots, but settled for my black suede slip ons. (Ok- Aerosoles--definitely screamed comfort over class.)

The previous week I had opted for a NJ transit bus over the train and that was a huge mistake. I could have driven to Montreal by the time I got to the city, so this time I was confident in my itinerary. I happened to be visiting the city the same evening that President Obama was in town for some fundraisers, but I thought I had outmaneuvered the mid town traffic by taking the train to Hoboken instead of Penn Station.  Imagine my surprise when I arrived at the Path train in Hoboken, only to hear the announcement that the Path line to 33rd street was temporarily closed and I'd have to take the train to World Trade Center. Slight grumblings from the crowd. Some people do blame the President for everything, as in:   "Raining today--damn Obama!"; "Tree fell in my yard."--damn that Obama. "Got a ticket for speeding" --damn you know who. In this case, though, as we poured into the waiting WTC train, I was shocked to find myself muttering under my breath--"Damn Obama," but quickly followed by "Maybe I'll see him!"  That didn't exactly make sense, since the train was now whisking us away from the areas he was visiting.

Here's where my cool New York matron outfit (is she from the Upper East Side?) failed me. I panicked and grabbed the guy next to me by the lapels, "What do I do when I get to WTC?" He was helpful, smiled, removed my hands from his jacket, brushed off some imaginary lint and explained I could take the A,C or E back uptown. I thought for a moment he might be someone famous--shaved head, oversized black rimmed glasses, jeans and red PF flyers. Was this a masquerade on his part?  He did bear a slight resemblance to Justin Timberlake or ...someone. Maybe he was doing a little research for his next role?

I composed myself, sat down and took out my cell phone like everyone else, but of course, no connectivity in the subterranean world.--at least on my iPhone. So, what were all these other people doing--scrolling up and down to read emails, playing games, faking it? I tried in vain to get to hopstop.com to figure out where I was going next, but had to discreetly nudge my cardboard book mark, embossed with a map of the NY transit system, out of my handbag. Vision being what it is, I then deftly hid the bookmark in front of my iPhone and moved it within 2 inches of my eyes. Nicely done, I thought, as I quickly surmised that I needed to walk over to the City Hall/Brooklyn Bridge subway stop and take the 6 train. I shoved everything back in my bag and realized that no one seemed to notice or care what I was doing. Ah, that New York thing. So now I'm sitting people-watching which is not a cool NY subway thing to do, so I quickly close my eyes and rock out, if I accidentally make eye contact with anyone. But I don't have the earbuds in--damn!

Rush hour now at the World Trade Center station and yes, my mouth gapes a little, taking in the scene of that 2 story high escalator jammed with people in both directions. Once out on the street I head uptown first before cutting over to the east. I walk purposefully enough to fool an out of towner who asks me for directions to the subway. I look at her pitifully and decide not to tell her she missed the easy access from the Path station, but instead re-direct her to the Church St station. (I think).  I pictured her later still circling those busy blocks, becoming more desperate when no subway entrance appeared. I just hope she didn't ask the same cop I did because he seemed to respond in not-English. I thought fluency in English would be an NYPD requirement?

At last I saw the 6 station, but no worries. If I go in the wrong direction, I could visit Scott in Brooklyn. I reached my destination, iTrulli restaurant on 27th st, without further ado and like the three wise men, returned home by a different route to avoid further difficulties, taking a cab to Penn station with a few friends from the party.

My next escapade into New York will be Tuesday to see a taping of the Anderson Cooper talk show. I watched it the other day to check out the crowd and they didn't seem to be as nicely dressed as those on the Martha Stewart show, which my sister-in-law had also attended. They were wearing the recommended bright primary colors. So, how to get a NY outfit that's not entirely black--a challenge, but I think I can manage it--maybe bright green jacket over all black.  The guest is Melissa McCarthy--I hope they don't make us watch the bathroom clip from Bridesmaids and I hope the gift is not the DVD!

One more trip planned after that--to play the Stray Boots 5th Avenue game zone. (Check it out!) The 5th Avenue windows were always a favorite outing for Gary and me when the kids were younger--Rockefeller Center, St Patrick's, Trump Tower, FAO Schwarz.  Seems like ages ago, before I started indulging in my Walter Mitty lifestyle. I didn't seem to mind then being the suburban mom with brood in tow, outfitted in our ski jackets and practical boots. Isn't life funny?

Wrapping up the holidays

So hard to take down the decorations. I do it in dribs and drabs, so it seems like an endless task. Just when I think I have everything boxed away, I notice another little angel or mini Christmas tree tucked away on a side table...and the pine needles will last until spring!

I'm sitting here listening to a great juke box website with songs from 1950-1989.  http://www.tropicalglen.com/. No good music after 1990, apparently. Pick a year and see if you remember the tunes.

Here's a follow up picture on the Midget Santa/Candy Cane story.

Who is this man and what is he doing with my father's candy cane?

Did you correctly guess that the smiling elf is none other than Midget Santa's helper, my brother Peter, all grown up and still looking good in a little red hat. Yes, he has the candy cane, but we still haven't figured out where it was in 1965. (Best guess: being repainted in the cellar).

More corrections to that story: the buyer of Midget Santa was my oldest brother Joe, who thought it would restore him to the good graces of my parents (something to do with missing dinner or staying out too late at night) Where the Santa was purchased is also being questioned. I was informed that there was no K-Mart in 1965 but a check of Wikipedia reveals that the first K-Mart was launched in 1962 in suburban Detroit and the chain had grown to 100 stores by 1965, so the one on Central Avenue in Colonie definitely could have been there.  I agree, though, the store was most likely Montgomery Wards or Two Guys (my father's favorites) or J.M. Fields (my mother's favorite store).

Enough with upstate NY trivia, here's some NJ history. I bid a fond farewell to the season of gingerbread houses with a visit to Lambert Castle in West Paterson, which featured a holiday display.

The real Lambert Castle




the Gingerbread version



nice porch

Other winning entries:

i think this was a historic jail

  

cute and a whole yard full of characters



  

Looks like the oversized house
 across the street from me

....and the NJ History lesson:

The castle was built in 1892 as a home and showplace for the art collection of self-made man Catholina Lambert. He emigrated from England at age 17, having worked since age 10 in the cotton mills of Yorkshire. A quick learner, he rose to prominence in the Paterson Silk Industry, becoming a partner in a mill by age 30. He married a wealthy woman from Boston, Isabella Shattuck, and they had 8 children. Sadly, only 3 survived to adulthood and this memorial window was dedicated to the daughter Florence who died at age 24 from pneumonia.(clearly she was the favorite child).

Lambert had styled the mansion after the castles of England he remembered as a child. Isabella died in 1901, after 44 years of marriage. Three years later he married her widowed sister (very biblical). Following the Paterson Silk Mill Strike of 1913, many of the mills moved to Pennsylvania which had a cheaper labor source (women and children). World War I and lack of credit further eroded his business and he eventually declared bankruptcy and was forced to sell off many of his art treasures. He died at age 89 in 1923 and his son Walter sold the castle to the city of Paterson soon after. It is now open to the public as a museum under the auspices of the Passaic County Historical Society and is part of Garrett Mountain reservation. (home to many epic high school cross country races)

 

Overlooking the city of Paterson,
 the first planned industrial city

 

The view from the front balcony of New York City skyline



 

The Tale of the Gingerbread Man and His Wife

Once upon a time in a snowy village in the High country of Bergen, there lived a kindly gingerbread man and his wife. They had a lovely cottage which Ginger Man had built himself, hauling the wood from a bountiful land called Brooklyn. Ginger Lady had carefully planted flowers and decorated the house with Christmas garlands in anticipation of the festive season that would soon be upon them.


GingerMan greeting his neighbor, Santa


Christmas was wonderful, although not everyone could come.  The Ginger's son was imprisoned out West on the island fortress of the evil sorcerer Al of Catraz.  The clever son was able to escape by plying the guards with veal cutlet and sugar pie and plunging into the icy waters to swim to safety. The Ginger Lady's brother and his family were also in a perilous situation, held captive by the evil Princess Di R.Rhea in the land beyond the Tappan Zee. Luckily, the Princess got bored after 24 hours and released them, but it was too late to go over the river and through the woods to arrive on time.

Laughter rang out and echoed in the woods around the little house, as presents were opened. There were wonderful gifts like enchanted clocks that captured the woodland birds chirping every hour and homemade delicacies from the faraway lands of Brooklyn.  Miniature trees, computer marvels, scarves of wondrous colors, panini grills, shiny black cuff links, and an inspirational book about a rock 'n roll drug lord were met with happy smiles.  When the Ginger Lady declared "Let the games begin," the cards flew and raucous laughter ensued.

The two day celebration continued at the King and Queen's castle nearby. The food was sumptuous, more guests arrived from the forest hills and the windsor kingdom and more games were played.

By the third day, weary but happy guests returned to their homes and the Ginger Man and Lady settled into their house, snug and warm.  That's when strange things started happening.  At first, it was just small items disappearing from the house-- the window garland, the Christmas tree, the roof lights.

But then things got serious. A gash appeared in the roof, allowing snow to drift down into the house.  Santa was puzzled.

Ginger Man eyed Santa suspiciously, but said nothing. Later, he asked his wife if she noticed anything unusual about Santa--his growing size, for example.  "Not at all," replied Ginger Lady. "Don't tell me you're accusing Santa! Why, he's the Spirit of Christmas. That's crazy talk."  But things only got worse. During the night strange creatures were heard, hideous hyena-like laughter pierced the chill air. And the next day more destruction rained down on the poor Ginger family.

Finally Ginger Lady took a long and dangerous journey to Westfield, where she bartered for a special device from the Wizard of Electronics.  She returned home and with Ginger Man set up the webcam.  That night the noises were ferocious, but the camera found the true culprit:

It was none other than the insatiable Laughing Dog aka Buffy the Sugar Slayer! That explained the hideous laughter they'd heard during the previous nights. Although their house was ruined, the Ginger Man and Lady knew they would be safe now because the entire demon pack of laughing dogs was spotted rolling out of the woods, off to another neighborhood in search of sweets. 

The Gingers prepared to salvage the remains and start anew. 

They were not worried because not only were they quite skilled and handy, but the Spirit of Christmas had grown so large in their hearts that they knew they could do anything,

The End.

Moonglow

I know, I know.. you just heard from me yesterday, but this is a short one.

Tuesday night was the lunar light spectacular, which I rose at 2:45 am to witness. After all, although lunar eclipses are common, (there will be two next year) the fine print reveals that they wont be visible from the US or they're only partial eclipses.  And this one was a triple zinger: total lunar eclipse, full moon, winter solstice. Wow. It was going to be awesome.

I bundled up in fleece pants and top, down jacket, gloves and hat and slipped out to the back deck. The moon was very high in the sky, but still didn't clear the treetops surrounding the house.  Binoculars gave a better view, but, like Santa on the firetruck, pictures were sub-optimal. Apparently more than a Canon Power shot is required, since my photo revealed the moon as the size of a pinhead among ghostly branches.

Full moon over NJ 3 AM 12/21/10

I missed the pac-man like chomping of the moon which started around 1:30 a.m., as the shadow of the earth took progressively bigger bites of the moon. But, I did get a view through the binocs of the pink-orange hued moon, reflecting the indirect sunlight still being filtered through the earth's atmosphere and causing the moonglow. Where was Koki, our Costa Rican birdwatching guide, when I needed him to line up his telescope for a better view?

I loved the feeling of creeping around the house at 3 a.m., although tripping on a sprinkler head nearly sent me sprawling on the driveway. Back into the house with freezing fingers, I dozed back to sleep in Eric's old room, which had a pretty good view out the window.

As NASA described it: "the moon's holiday gift to us"

.

Christmas Lights

Santa drove by our house on Sunday night on top of the town's fire engine, waving and giving candy to children. I went out on our steps, alone, (cue the music:  "I'll be home for Christmas"), plugged in our Christmas lights and waved back.

Santa in the burbs--it might as well be Grovers Corners!

Christmas lights give you that warm inner glow, too.  I remember as a kid driving home on Christmas night, a long circuitous route from our cousins', who only lived down the hill from us. We detoured down all the side streets to see the lights, though none could compare to our own house.

My father was very proud of our decorations-- a giant candy cane suspended from the porch ceiling was flanked by three foot high candles on the railings. Dad had fashioned the candy cane out of flexible steel tubing, covered it in white plastic and painted on the red stripes. The candles, too, were a product of his cellar workshop. We had an illuminated creche scene hanging just above the candy cane and a white star in the attic window. My mother's contribution was white plastic candles and red wreaths in each window. The wreaths were ancient and shed a dusting of red fibers on the windowsills. 

We used to have a life sized cutout of Santa that stood on the porch next to the mailbox, but it blew over one windy year and was never the same. Sadly, he was replaced with a lit plastic K-Mart Santa who was a pygmy in comparison--maybe 3 feet tall. We were so disappointed with Midget Santa that my father strapped him to a high backed stool and then covered the bottom of the stool with a red vinyl skirt and that helped a little. Ah, memories...

Well, I dug through some photos and found this picture of our house.

Don't be confused by the two figures in red: the one on the left is Midget Santa and the one on the right is my little brother circa 1965.(And, yes, that's Buffy's brown house in the background!)  You may be as surprised as I am that Midget Santa has escaped from his high, red-skirted stool by the door and advanced to the coveted middle pillar with the vanquished candy cane nowhere in sight. 

Here's another view, so you can see my Mom's wreaths and candles.

Careful observers will note the smug look on Midget Santa's face and that he appears to be anchored by a triangular rope contraption, one of my father's specialties. And whither the candy cane?

It's a Christmas mystery.

One final note: We'd need a wider view to see the creche and the star above the porch, but it all seems pretty modest compared to today's light extravaganzas. If we were the best in the neighborhood, what did everyone else do?