50 – 13 – 337

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When I was in high school and for as long as it was on television, I was a tremendous fan of Matlock starring Andy Griffith. He played a Georgia lawyer who wore the same suit every day – three piece grey. That’s all he had in his closet for court.

Each show was some kind of a mystery culminating in a trial. I loved it. I’ve always been a big fan of mysteries and the law, so this was perfect for me despite my not exactly being in the demographic that it was aimed for.

One of those mysteries was a murder in a television studio. The victim queued up the VHS tape (yup, that’s how long ago that show was on) to 3:37.

It was assumed that the murderer appeared on the tape at the three minute, thirty-seven second mark. However that person had an alibi. It confused everyone until Matlock laid down on the floor under the VHS player and suddenly from the angle of the murder victim, instead of the numbers 337, it spelled out LEE. Lee was the murderer.

I don’t know why this always stuck with me through the years, decades even. I noticed when I was buying something and the total was $3.37. I think for a short while gas prices went up to $3.379. I would notice the time – 3:37pm.

My husband would point it out to me when he would see it.

It became my favorite number.

Well, about five years ago, I got one of those day planner books that listed the days of the year. January 1st was #1. February 1st was #32. March 1st was 60, and so on.

Out of curiosity, I thumbed through the whole calendar to my birthday, December 3rd to see what day of the year I was born on.

As it turned out, in non-leap years, my birthday is celebrated on the three hundred thirty-seventh day of the year.

My birthday is 337.

I was kind of astounded by the coincidence, but it was also one of those feelings that wasn’t deja vu, but it was special – that things are there and we need just to take a closer look at them; that some things mean more than they appear on the surface.

50 – 12 – Air Horns

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My family drove everywhere. We’d load up the car the night before, get up and pile in the car to leave at 4am, still in our pajamas. After about four hours of driving, we’d stop for breakfast and put on real clothes, then continue on our way. We went to Canada, Pennsylvania, Florida, Virginia. There were three of us in the backseat, and going there was more room than coming back. Canada had the duty free shop and my parents smoked. Coming back from Florida, we were covered in cigarette cartons and oranges because the prices were so cheap down south.

We played car games, like keeping track of the states on the license plates, car colors, signs, some magnetic games, anything to keep us occupied and not touching each other or breathing on each other.

One thing that we always did when we were kids were to get the attention of the truck drivers. My Dad had a CB radio so we talked to them and when we got their attention in person, through the window, we’d pretend to pull the air-horn.

They copied us and returned the gesture only they blew their air-horns and the regular truck horn.

It was fantastic.

I don’t think they do that anymore. While we were driving to Niagara Falls a few weeks ago, we told our kids to do that. The one truck driver who saw them waved, which was pretty thrilling in itself.

We would also moo at any cows we passed by. I’m happy to saw our kids think we’re dorks, but it’s such a good memory, I wanted them to have it as well.

50 – 11 – Five Dollars

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When I was a child, we traveled to Canada often; more often than most kids living in NYC and on Long Island. Our grandfather was born and raised there, so we would visit his sisters and their families as well as going on a summer vacation before returning to school in the fall. Not every year, but almost every other.

Every visit always included dinner at Old Ed’s Warehouse in Toronto. We’d all meet there – aunts, uncles, cousins. It was a fancy restaurant, and men had to wear jackets and ties. It was a steakhouse, and it was misery for my brother, sister, and I. Steaks. No hamburgers, even less chance of cheeseburgers, and absolutely no ketchup. I can still see my sister’s face when we found that out.

My husband and I continued that tradition when we visited Toronto before we got married. We visited my Aunt Goldie, and had dinner at Old Ed’s. It was different since I was ten – they had several sections of the restaurant – steaks, pasta, casual dining, etc. No jackets either. They are closed now, but they were a place that was part of my childhood traditions.

When I was a kid, everyone would gather on the street outside the restaurant in front of Ed’s. You needed reservations. We parked and waited for the rest of the family to arrive.

My aunts, Goldie and Janet were my grandfather’s sisters. He also had a brother, but we didn’t see him very often. I can only remember one time distinctly. Both of them had husbands named Joe. We found this funny. Two Uncle Joe’s. We also had two Aunt Shirleys, two cousin Sharons and more Davids than you could shake a stick at.
When Uncle Joe (Goldie’s husband) arrived he took each of us kids aside, gave us $5 in Canadian money for our own and told us not to tell our parents.

About five minutes later, Uncle Joe (Janet’s husband) took each of us aside, gave us $5 in Canadian money for our own and told us not to tell our parents.

The two of them shared a look and a wink, and the three of us each got $10 to spend on our vacation. I don’t know if my parents ever knew. We were Gerry’s kids, and he was there so often he was a favorite of the family and in addition to all the other ways, we reaped the reward of having a great Dad.

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The current $5 bill. Front. 2016

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The current $5. Back. 2016

50 – What Was I Thinking?!

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At the beginning of the year, I had this great idea for a series of posts. To celebrate turning 50 at the end of the year, I would post one reflection every week talking about the past fifty years in my life. Mostly anecdotes, memories that are always floating around in my head. I’ve posted similar ones before that I’ve tagged as “I remember” especially when my kids do something that reminds me of my childhood, like eating McDonald’s fries in the car or visiting Grandma, and you know the types of stories. Some would be longer than others, but they would all be meaningful to me, and hopefully encourage others to post and share their own memorable moments from their lives.

One a week was do-able and I’d have fifty by my birthday in December.

Well, here it is the end of summer and the early beginnings of fall. The kids are back in school, the choir is back at my church, I’m wearing my new fall jacket, and we actually went on a short vacation to Niagara Falls, both new family fun and memories come alive.

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Niagara Falls, as seen from the Canadian side, 2016 (c)

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I have posted ten of those fifty. Ten. With my birthday in less than twelve weeks, I can still make my goal of fifty by my birthday. I would have to post about three to four each week, but it can be done.

This has been a mostly successful year for writing despite falling off the motivational hamster wheel this summer, but I’m confident I can get this done. And getting this done is something that I not only want to do, I need to do it; for myself.

Setting goals and deadlines have always been issues for me. The anxiety kicks in and if I never finish it, it feels as though I can’t fail.

I hope you enjoy reading the forty remaining in the next eleven and a half weeks. I know I will enjoy writing them.

Star Trek 50, Pop Culture, And Us

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This is me, probably in 1991, celebrating the 25th anniversary of Star Trek at the Smithsonian's Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC at their special Star Trek exhibit. I am sitting in Captain Kirk's actual captain's chair.

Thursday’s milestone birthday of the beginnings of Star Trek reminds me of the influence pop culture has on all our lives. Star Trek simultaneously showed us the future as well as holding a mirror up to ourselves and our society of the time. I’m not sure that was recognized as much at that time. Like many things, we don’t realize its value until it’s gone. Another lesson of Star Trek is to aim high and keep trying. The pilot was rejected as too cerebral, and they came back as cowboys in space while keeping its special-ness. Star Trek: The Motion Picture was a not-very-good-movie, but they forged ahead and the second one is remembered by everyone, reuniting the original guest star Ricardo Montalban as Khan Noonian Singh. The original show was cancelled after seventy-nine episodes, but has been and continues to be well-loved on the convention circuit and in movies, spawning spin-offs, fan fiction, and is known for its very cerebral fans.

In the reboot/non-reboot, Kelvin timeline, the first thing that fans said were how well the new cast held up visually and in temperament to the original cast. I recently saw Star Trek Beyond without knowing it was co-written by Simon Pegg and I loved the references to original moments of Star Trek from McCoy’s claims to be a doctor to the subtle looks between him and Mr. Spock and the underlying respect each has for the other despite McCoy reaching past his unconscious bias of the green-blooded, unemotional Vulcan, something prevalent [racial bias] in the world of the 1960s, sadly as much as it is today. Star Trek speaks a universal language that we understand regardless of our native spoken language.

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Fireboat

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This is a photo of the John J. Harvey as its passengers disembark onto the deck of the USS Slater. This photo was taken on August 20th, 2001.

It was a greyish day, a little cooler than we thought it should have been so late in the summer and as my husband and our son, all of four years old and a dedicated junior fireman took a stroll along the Troy riverfront, the John J. Harvey was getting ready to sail down the Hudson to NYC to its new home as a museum and historic landmark.

They had been giving free rides between Troy and Albany. The crew offered them a ride, but the voyage was one way only. Could someone pick them up in Albany?

Mom, of course. Please…

The hoses went to work, drawing water up through the pumps from the river and out again, demonstrating how the fireboat worked before its retirement in 1995. Sprays of water arched against the grey clouds. The passengers got a little damp. I could see a tiny sample from the adjacent highway as I was driving to get to the drop off area before they arrived.

The gangplank was laid between the ships, the Harvey and the Slater. Both crews had done this several times before that summer. As they went from one former working boat turned floating museum/historic landmark to another, they were given a quick tour of the Slater as well.

From crew to passenger, their days were made!

No one knew that day was a mere three weeks from the bright blue September sky that turned black with the rising smoke from four hijacked airplanes.

We know the story of September 11th. We were there or we watched it unfold in real time on our television sets. We frantically called family and friends. We watched in horror as one tower fell and then the second, the incessant sound of beeping of firemen down.

Along the waterfront of Lower Manhattan, however were boats. Big boats, little boats, sailboats, fishing boats, trawlers, ferries, the Coast Guard. If it could get in the water and do runs from Manhattan to Staten Island and Brooklyn or wherever they needed to go, they went, and they continued to go until everyone who wanted to leave had left.

This was the largest water rescue since Dunkirk.

The John J. Harvey came out of retirement and went back into the fire service that day. They ran hoses and they ferried passengers. Other firefighters came out of retirement simply because they knew they were needed. They searched. They rescued. They recovered. They and the John J. Harvey exemplified that day what it meant to be a public servant, a fire fighter; what it meant to be an American.

September 11th isn’t mattress sales and rolled back prices. It’s the day they thought we could be torn apart but instead brought us together.

Read about the heroes of that day.

Read about the John J. Harvey. Visit her at her home at Pier 66.

That four year old of mine is now 19. He is a fireman and an EMT, and he is in his second year of college studying the fire protection service.

Support your local fire departments.

Support the 9/11 First Responders.

Stories of September 11th should be told, and will be told even when the witnesses have gone.

Stardate: 1-9-6-6-2-0-1-6.9.8

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Space…
The final frontier.
These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise;
It’s five year mission:
To explore strange new worlds,
To seek out new life and new civilizations,
To boldly go…
Where no man has gone before.

These iconic words from Gene Roddenberry, brought to life by William Shatner have withstood the test of time.

Fifty years ago today, Star Trek began what would be its fifty-year and ongoing mission. Roddenberry’s vision for the future is still some way off, but I just saw a video on the realities of transparent aluminum, most of us use communicators in some fashion or another, and having a Black woman superior to us in the workplace is more common than 1966, although we could do better.

In 1966, it was somewhat controversial to have such a mixed race crew, let alone the actors who played them. While Jim Kirk was born in Iowa, Williams Shatner hails from Canada. He is still a Canadian citizen, and not a naturalized American. He, Leonard Nimoy, and Walter Koenig are all Jewish. Sulu and George Takei are Japanese. Nichelle Nichols was a Black woman. She and Shatner hold the first for an interracial kiss on television. Pavel Checkov’s character was a breakthrough especially during the space race of the 50s and the 60s. The idea of working with the Russians was nearly impossible to imagine then. And of course, Jimmy Doohan’s Scotty gave homage to the many Scotsmen and women who led the industrial revolution and got the engines running.

Even in today’s Kelvin timeline, not reboot (according to Mike and Denise Okuda), there is an homage given to the original cast as well as bringing the story into the 21st century for us moviegoers.

I’ve watched every iteration of Star Trek including reading the comic books, every new series (Deep Space Nine is my favorite after the original series), every movie, every animation. Wasn’t there a Star Trek meets Scooby Doo or am I imagining that? Somewhere in the depths of my basement boxes is a photojournal of Trouble with Tribbles that I had once memorized. I learned Klingon as a young adult, and went to conventions so long ago that there were no charges for photos or autographs.

Reflecting on 50 years of science fiction, watching it intersect with science fact, sitting in the captain’s chair at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, and forging our own new worlds through our own inspiration to write and world-build.

Star Trek is many things to many people. I have been a fan my whole life, and will continue to be into the next half century and beyond.

Happy Birthday, Star Trek!
And many more to come.
The stories yet to be told are out there, and I for one, can’t wait.

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US Postal Stamps, issued 2016

Country Store

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Every August my monthly writing group goes to lunch. We plan out the rest of the year’s meetings and catch up on the summer.

All of us are either “graduates” of the weekly bi-seasonal writing group or still attendees. That group starts in three weeks.

I love wandering around the country stores. Most of them have additions so it’s like going through a maze with each doorway leading to a new theme: Halloween, candy, kids, flowers, food, soaps, candles. So many things to look at and touch and smell.

And lunch was great: quiche and salad and of course a cider donut  (their specialty).

NY Birds with Outpost #4

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On Friday, I met a bird lady at a local event here in the Capital District. Actually, while she only brought birds for her demonstration, her husband describes their work as from mice to moose. And to be fair and less flip, she wasn’t a bird lady, she is a wildlife rehabilitation specialist.
Linda, and her husband take in almost any and all animals that need rehabilitation services. Their aim is to get whichever animals can, get back into the wild.
While my kids played at the Carnival going on, I spent my time with Linda learning about the birds and other animals that they care for.

I was fascinated by the birds.

They’re all predators, and in the wild, or at the rehab center, do not hang out together. Their being well fed keeps them from looking for food among each other at the demo. At home, they’re kept in separate cages, like birds together, etc. Of the five birds I met, all but one are New York State natives. Two of the birds are only here in the summer, so when the cold weather comes along, they’re moved indoors until the warm weather returns.

Only native birds are released locally.

I could get pretty close and take photos, even with a flash, but was warned not to go behind them. They don’t like that.

I was surprised at how much training and licensing goes into running a rehabilitation center and taking care of the animals. There’s state licensing and for the birds you also need federal. After taking coursework, there’s a test that must be passed. To teach and have the demos like the one I attended, you need additional training and licensing, even for a former teacher like Linda.

I called the smallest a grumpy cat owl. Look at his face, and you’ll see what I mean. She’s a Screech Owl named Maid Marian.

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Maid Marian. Screech Owl

The Kestrel Falcon is Mr. Piffles, and there’s a Mrs. Piffles back home. He’s one of the summer birds.

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Mr. Piffles. Kestrel Falcon.

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Mr. Piffles. Kestrel Falcon. Showing off. He did this for me several times so I could get a good picture.

Pygmalion, or Piggie is a Broadwing Hawk. He’s also a summer bird.

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Pygmalion or Piggie. Broadwing Hawk.

Shakespeare the Barn Owl was the most regal, the most uncaring, keep looking but don’t touch me aristocratic looking when he wasn’t turning his head regally or falling asleep.

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Shakespeare. Barn Owl.

Last but not least, we have the oldest of the group, twenty-year old Annabelle. She’s a Prairie Falcon from the desert. She was a breeder in Texas. When she passes, she has a home in a museum in western New York.

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Annabelle. Prairie Falcon.

Visit their Facebook or Website to learn more about what they do and how you can help them.

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