Lets kick this up a notch....
If my nephew Greg breaks his goal of $2,500 raised, I too will shave my head and email everyone a video of the actual head shaving.
The head shaving will take place in March, 2008
Please feel free to forward this around....
From: Jonathan S. Carroll (NY) Sent: Friday, February 15, 2008 9:05 AMSubject: Greg
My nephew Greg is raising money for Cancer research. On March 8, 2008 he will shave his head for charity.
If you would like to make a donation to support his efforts it would be appreciated.
Click here to help
Jonathan
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
St. Baldrick's day
View the St. Baldrick's homepage, click here.
This is last years picture. And Gregory is at it again!
Lisa and I were inspired by him when he gave up cookies for Lent. Not to be out done, Lisa gave up tea and I gave up coffee.
So he upped the ante by agreeing to get his head shaved for a cancer curing fundraiser. If Lisa decides to shave her head, I will follow. The odds of that are slim. But the potential funny pictures posted here would get serious attention and donations.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
The doorman hurdle
Working an extra late-night shift was a lot of fun last night. My first call was to 237 Park Avenue. Someone was trapped in elevator #9. When I arrived (just before my shift actually started) the doorman told me one lady was stuck and needed to get out quickly. I ask the normal questions attempting to assess the situation.
Is she calm or panicking? Claustrophobic? Pregnant or epileptic? Do we need to call the fire department?
The doorman immediately presses the intercom talk button "Are you pregnant?"
The lady yelled "What?"
"They want me to ask you" he said.
Now, I understand its difficult to get a normal person to work the graveyard shift. I understand the intense amount of stress a doorman must be under each night, in a near-empty building.
As the nocturnal porter starts to laugh at the doorman I asked "Dude, are you serious? What's the matter with you?"
"How else will we know?" he inquires of me.
I went on to explain that I was hoping he would already have pertinent information from what our victim already volunteered. (She became a victim when this idiot doorman forced her to reconsider her safety. And her maternity status.)
I wait as Einstein looks for the machine room keys. And I wonder why he didn't perform this task just after calling Schindler with an elevator problem.
Once in the machine room my twenty plus years of elevator experience quickly diagnosed the problem. But the burning smell and smoke from a large relay did help. At this time I didn't know which floor she was trapped on. I was hoping to be able to pick the hall door near her and open the car door by hand. I went down to investigate her location.
The lady was stuck in a blind shaft. I called the office for a second mechanic. A blind shaft is the part of the hoistway that has no doors to the hallway. This particular blind shaft was the first 12 stories of the building above the lobby landing. She was stuck on the ninth floor. I knew the only way out for her was to be helped from the side door of elevator #9 to the side door of #8.
I pulled the mainline and ventured down the stairs to elevator #8. Once on top of #8 I heard the voice of elevator mechanic #2, Sean. He arrived rather quickly I noticed. After customary greetings and the offering of coffee, Sean and I descended slowly atop of elevator #8. When we reached the point where our car top was level with #9 we noticed the side doors do not have a beam between them. Nothing but nine floors of gravity creating a rather unsafe transfer spot. At this point Sean climbs over to our victims car. He opens the top escape hatch and begins to talk to the lady.
With universal hand signals I inquire if she's old or fat. (I already know she isn't pregnant) I'm concerned about a transfer as we consider calling the FDNY. We would be able to get them to this point in the shaft and they can be responsible for her safety.
Sean wants to look at the melted relay. A slow trip up to 21 will delay our goal. So I stayed with our victim while Sean went up to the machine room. Her name is Sharon and she works at a cosmetic company in the building. I offer her my cell phone but she already had one and was in contact with her friends. Her first priority, upon exit, was to use a bathroom.
I call Sean on the phone. He wants to make a temporary repair to the relay and hope for the best. I originally didn't look for a "relay repair" because I thought I would be able to get her out without a transfer.
Eventually Sean patched the relay terminal with a large sheet metal screw. It was just barely hanging on to the stranded wire. As I ran the car (from the car top controls) on inspection speed up he stood by the fire extinguisher in the machine room.
Sharon was free. I got a hug. Sean got two tickets on his car. One for an expired inspection sticker and one for not putting money in the parking meter. That's how he arrived so quickly.
I repaired four more elevators that night. Then, at 6AM, I got another entrapment call. This time it was 1345 Avenue of the Americas. Two doorman work the same night-shift at this building. One doorman is named Frank. Frank has worked there for a few months but never knows where anything is or even where the keys are. Frank and I got trapped in a stairwell a few weeks back because he thought it was unlocked.
The other doorman greeted me this morning and jokingly asked if I wanted Frank to escort me around the building.
"No thanks. Just toss me the keys and tell me which floor the low rise machine room is located".
Doorman #2 didn't know which floor and he didn't know which keys were needed. So I asked him "Why do you pick on Frank when you, yourself, don't know your way around here? How long have you been working here?"
His answer of four years shocked me. It took one half hour to get from the lobby to inside the elevator machine room. The victim of this building may blame the elevator mechanic for not working quick enough. The real resistance of my rescues is never revealed.
Is she calm or panicking? Claustrophobic? Pregnant or epileptic? Do we need to call the fire department?
The doorman immediately presses the intercom talk button "Are you pregnant?"
The lady yelled "What?"
"They want me to ask you" he said.
Now, I understand its difficult to get a normal person to work the graveyard shift. I understand the intense amount of stress a doorman must be under each night, in a near-empty building.
As the nocturnal porter starts to laugh at the doorman I asked "Dude, are you serious? What's the matter with you?"
"How else will we know?" he inquires of me.
I went on to explain that I was hoping he would already have pertinent information from what our victim already volunteered. (She became a victim when this idiot doorman forced her to reconsider her safety. And her maternity status.)
I wait as Einstein looks for the machine room keys. And I wonder why he didn't perform this task just after calling Schindler with an elevator problem.
Once in the machine room my twenty plus years of elevator experience quickly diagnosed the problem. But the burning smell and smoke from a large relay did help. At this time I didn't know which floor she was trapped on. I was hoping to be able to pick the hall door near her and open the car door by hand. I went down to investigate her location.
The lady was stuck in a blind shaft. I called the office for a second mechanic. A blind shaft is the part of the hoistway that has no doors to the hallway. This particular blind shaft was the first 12 stories of the building above the lobby landing. She was stuck on the ninth floor. I knew the only way out for her was to be helped from the side door of elevator #9 to the side door of #8.
I pulled the mainline and ventured down the stairs to elevator #8. Once on top of #8 I heard the voice of elevator mechanic #2, Sean. He arrived rather quickly I noticed. After customary greetings and the offering of coffee, Sean and I descended slowly atop of elevator #8. When we reached the point where our car top was level with #9 we noticed the side doors do not have a beam between them. Nothing but nine floors of gravity creating a rather unsafe transfer spot. At this point Sean climbs over to our victims car. He opens the top escape hatch and begins to talk to the lady.
With universal hand signals I inquire if she's old or fat. (I already know she isn't pregnant) I'm concerned about a transfer as we consider calling the FDNY. We would be able to get them to this point in the shaft and they can be responsible for her safety.
Sean wants to look at the melted relay. A slow trip up to 21 will delay our goal. So I stayed with our victim while Sean went up to the machine room. Her name is Sharon and she works at a cosmetic company in the building. I offer her my cell phone but she already had one and was in contact with her friends. Her first priority, upon exit, was to use a bathroom.
I call Sean on the phone. He wants to make a temporary repair to the relay and hope for the best. I originally didn't look for a "relay repair" because I thought I would be able to get her out without a transfer.
Eventually Sean patched the relay terminal with a large sheet metal screw. It was just barely hanging on to the stranded wire. As I ran the car (from the car top controls) on inspection speed up he stood by the fire extinguisher in the machine room.
Sharon was free. I got a hug. Sean got two tickets on his car. One for an expired inspection sticker and one for not putting money in the parking meter. That's how he arrived so quickly.
I repaired four more elevators that night. Then, at 6AM, I got another entrapment call. This time it was 1345 Avenue of the Americas. Two doorman work the same night-shift at this building. One doorman is named Frank. Frank has worked there for a few months but never knows where anything is or even where the keys are. Frank and I got trapped in a stairwell a few weeks back because he thought it was unlocked.
The other doorman greeted me this morning and jokingly asked if I wanted Frank to escort me around the building.
"No thanks. Just toss me the keys and tell me which floor the low rise machine room is located".
Doorman #2 didn't know which floor and he didn't know which keys were needed. So I asked him "Why do you pick on Frank when you, yourself, don't know your way around here? How long have you been working here?"
His answer of four years shocked me. It took one half hour to get from the lobby to inside the elevator machine room. The victim of this building may blame the elevator mechanic for not working quick enough. The real resistance of my rescues is never revealed.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Copy/paste cut publish
Random deleted blog rantings:
____________________________
1996-97
A week after my 30th birthday I was standing at Columbus circle in Manhattan. Local 3 rented an auditiourm there for us to vote on working without a contract or going on strike. The place was crowded and the rumors concerning "what if?" were non-stop.I wasn't worried at all. All the elevator shops were busy with plenty of work. The last strike only lasted one week.Instead I talked about the large fountain in the middle of the large circle. A mechanic named Tom once poured gallons of liquid laundry detergent into the fountain to create bubbles. It worked but the fountain needed to be shut down for a few weeks after that.Local 3 represenatives wanted us on strike. They told us that working without a contact could mean not getting paid for the holidays. They said our pay rate could be lowered during the labor negioations. They were wrong on both accounts. And they knew it. But mechanics feared working without a contract, and limited union support.When the votes were counted we were on strike without any clue when negioations would even start. I had a mortgage, car loan and two kids in diapers. Gregory was also drinking formula like a thirsty soccer player.I applied to a Newday ad requesting escalator mechanics for the train system in Washinton D.C. It was the best move I could make but it required me to move and to fake fixing escalators. I never worked on an escalator so faking it would be interesting.That auditorium is no longer there.
________________________
Albert Einstein proved that time does not exist. "People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."
What is stress?
Stress is the emotional and physical strain caused by our response to pressure from the outside world. “Stress is nothing more than a socially acceptable form of mental illness”
Most of that pressure is time related. We never seem to have enough time. This lack of time is more apparent during the very busy holiday season.
What is suppose to consume our time?
Sleep: 8 hours a day.
Work: 8 hours a day.
Commute to/from work: 1 hour a day.
Health-
Exercise: 1 hour a day.
Tooth brushing: 10 minutes per day
Shower: 10 minutes per day
Shaving: 5 minutes per day
Eating (includes preparing food): 65 minutes per day
Family time: 4.5 hours per day
Church: One Mass per week=10 minutes per day.
Reading: 1 hour per day
Have a car? Maintenance of a car will cost you more time. Accident and/or ticket? More time consumed.
Have a hobby? You should be doing some stuff you enjoy. How do you make the time?
Have a pet? Television? Computer? House? Sick relative? Laundry? Birthday party? Lawn? Kids?!
Now, for one month, add in Christmas shopping and family gatherings.
Total it all up and it comes to over 24 hours a day. Surprised? I thought not.
So here comes the fun part. We consciously begin to make priorities. No matter which area we cut time from we pay the price in other ways. And create stress!
No time to exercise gets us fat. No time to shower gets us lonely.
Want to multitask? Good luck!
Many people fantasize about hitting the lottery because freeing up time would be more enjoyable than buying stuff. Many websites and books dedicate themselves to relieving stress. But in reality the best way to lower stress is to understand the time factors work against us. We cannot possibly accomplish all that we should be doing in 24 hours. Let alone what we want to do.
In 1955 Albert Einstein, the man who proved time does not exist, died of old age.
______________________________
Building superintendents run a building and they drink coffee. They may work alone, in a small building, or head a department in larger buildings. He (usually a "he") needs a broad range of mechanical knowledge and access to hardware, paint, tools and cleaners. He is the man who signs out work order. He cleans up the carpet tracks when we lose direction and common sense.
Elevator "repair mechanics" replace hoist cables, burnt out motors and large machine bearings. The repair mechanic will spend about one or two days in a building before moving on to the next job. (In comparison the elevator "maintenance mechanic" figures out why the newly installed electric motor doesn't turn.)
A quintessential elevator "repair mechanic" is usually slow moving. He has a large frame and a few tattoos. Tom, a quintessential repair mechanic, also has reputation for being a little crazy even for a repair mechanic. Two stories follow him throughout the industry.
Tom needed to remove an old motor from a six storey building. He believed he could drop it down the shaft instead of walking it down the long and boring staircase. He asked the office about it while standing next to his helper, Joe. Tom's supervisor said "Let it sail!"
He dropped the motor down the elevator shaft. That motor hit a beam and went through a wall in a museum, knocking over a $5,000 statue. When the big boss found out the supervisor claimed he did not give any permission to Tom to drop anything. Tom took Joe in front of the big boss. Joe denied hearing "let it sail" from anyone. When they were outside Joe asked "You didn't expect to me rat, did you?" Tom was given two weeks off without pay.
Tom left work early one day (most days really) and his new helper made the mistake of informing the office. Tom hung his helper off a rooftop by his ankles. A simple and effective way of teaching helpers to keep their mouth shut.
In 1988 I traveled to work on the Long Island Rail Road with Tom and a few other elevator mechanics. We would sit in the same car. We spoke very little of work. Like most people, we would rather read the paper and/or sleep. A small group of men, myself included, would change at Jamaica for the diesel train to Hunters Point Avenue. Each day we would jump off the train as it was slowing down in the station. We didn't want to walk back from where the train actually stopped. Like parachuter's awaiting the red light, we jumped in sequence. Tom usually went first. We would climb down onto the tracks and cross over multiple tracks to a dead end street. One block later was a coffee shop.
____________________________
1996-97
A week after my 30th birthday I was standing at Columbus circle in Manhattan. Local 3 rented an auditiourm there for us to vote on working without a contract or going on strike. The place was crowded and the rumors concerning "what if?" were non-stop.I wasn't worried at all. All the elevator shops were busy with plenty of work. The last strike only lasted one week.Instead I talked about the large fountain in the middle of the large circle. A mechanic named Tom once poured gallons of liquid laundry detergent into the fountain to create bubbles. It worked but the fountain needed to be shut down for a few weeks after that.Local 3 represenatives wanted us on strike. They told us that working without a contact could mean not getting paid for the holidays. They said our pay rate could be lowered during the labor negioations. They were wrong on both accounts. And they knew it. But mechanics feared working without a contract, and limited union support.When the votes were counted we were on strike without any clue when negioations would even start. I had a mortgage, car loan and two kids in diapers. Gregory was also drinking formula like a thirsty soccer player.I applied to a Newday ad requesting escalator mechanics for the train system in Washinton D.C. It was the best move I could make but it required me to move and to fake fixing escalators. I never worked on an escalator so faking it would be interesting.That auditorium is no longer there.
________________________
Albert Einstein proved that time does not exist. "People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."
What is stress?
Stress is the emotional and physical strain caused by our response to pressure from the outside world. “Stress is nothing more than a socially acceptable form of mental illness”
Most of that pressure is time related. We never seem to have enough time. This lack of time is more apparent during the very busy holiday season.
What is suppose to consume our time?
Sleep: 8 hours a day.
Work: 8 hours a day.
Commute to/from work: 1 hour a day.
Health-
Exercise: 1 hour a day.
Tooth brushing: 10 minutes per day
Shower: 10 minutes per day
Shaving: 5 minutes per day
Eating (includes preparing food): 65 minutes per day
Family time: 4.5 hours per day
Church: One Mass per week=10 minutes per day.
Reading: 1 hour per day
Have a car? Maintenance of a car will cost you more time. Accident and/or ticket? More time consumed.
Have a hobby? You should be doing some stuff you enjoy. How do you make the time?
Have a pet? Television? Computer? House? Sick relative? Laundry? Birthday party? Lawn? Kids?!
Now, for one month, add in Christmas shopping and family gatherings.
Total it all up and it comes to over 24 hours a day. Surprised? I thought not.
So here comes the fun part. We consciously begin to make priorities. No matter which area we cut time from we pay the price in other ways. And create stress!
No time to exercise gets us fat. No time to shower gets us lonely.
Want to multitask? Good luck!
Many people fantasize about hitting the lottery because freeing up time would be more enjoyable than buying stuff. Many websites and books dedicate themselves to relieving stress. But in reality the best way to lower stress is to understand the time factors work against us. We cannot possibly accomplish all that we should be doing in 24 hours. Let alone what we want to do.
In 1955 Albert Einstein, the man who proved time does not exist, died of old age.
______________________________
Building superintendents run a building and they drink coffee. They may work alone, in a small building, or head a department in larger buildings. He (usually a "he") needs a broad range of mechanical knowledge and access to hardware, paint, tools and cleaners. He is the man who signs out work order. He cleans up the carpet tracks when we lose direction and common sense.
Elevator "repair mechanics" replace hoist cables, burnt out motors and large machine bearings. The repair mechanic will spend about one or two days in a building before moving on to the next job. (In comparison the elevator "maintenance mechanic" figures out why the newly installed electric motor doesn't turn.)
A quintessential elevator "repair mechanic" is usually slow moving. He has a large frame and a few tattoos. Tom, a quintessential repair mechanic, also has reputation for being a little crazy even for a repair mechanic. Two stories follow him throughout the industry.
Tom needed to remove an old motor from a six storey building. He believed he could drop it down the shaft instead of walking it down the long and boring staircase. He asked the office about it while standing next to his helper, Joe. Tom's supervisor said "Let it sail!"
He dropped the motor down the elevator shaft. That motor hit a beam and went through a wall in a museum, knocking over a $5,000 statue. When the big boss found out the supervisor claimed he did not give any permission to Tom to drop anything. Tom took Joe in front of the big boss. Joe denied hearing "let it sail" from anyone. When they were outside Joe asked "You didn't expect to me rat, did you?" Tom was given two weeks off without pay.
Tom left work early one day (most days really) and his new helper made the mistake of informing the office. Tom hung his helper off a rooftop by his ankles. A simple and effective way of teaching helpers to keep their mouth shut.
In 1988 I traveled to work on the Long Island Rail Road with Tom and a few other elevator mechanics. We would sit in the same car. We spoke very little of work. Like most people, we would rather read the paper and/or sleep. A small group of men, myself included, would change at Jamaica for the diesel train to Hunters Point Avenue. Each day we would jump off the train as it was slowing down in the station. We didn't want to walk back from where the train actually stopped. Like parachuter's awaiting the red light, we jumped in sequence. Tom usually went first. We would climb down onto the tracks and cross over multiple tracks to a dead end street. One block later was a coffee shop.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Naked Tree
This years Christmas tree was first spotted by Megan behind our Volunteer Fire Department.
I never understood the point of cutting down a living tree for a religious purpose. Add in the fire and mold hazard and you have an appointment with disaster.
While shopping for a tree two years ago, in an unprovoked attack, my only son smashed a slush ball against the back of my head. As I reached for his throat I was stopped by the Christmas spirit. Or it was Lisa, I'm not sure.
A fake tree is safer. Cost less over time, saves time and is slightly less work to install.
So why do I battle the weather, cough up the cash and kill an afternoon? Why do I lie awake wondering if the toxic arborvitae has enough water?
Because my wonderful wife grew up with a real Christmas tree. Thanks Grandma.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Barber shop
When we lived in North Babylon I always went to the same barber shop and waited for Joel's chair. Joel usually has a line of hairy men waiting for his scissor talent. Joel rides a Kawasaki Eliminator. Even after we moved I drove back to the Babylon barber once a month, for a few months.
Then I started getting my haircut in Manhattan during lunch. It saved time. Genaro works on 35th Street and 7th Avenue. He too has a real passion for haircuts and is also a biker. When I took the night shift I had difficulty being in Manhattan during the day. It worked out only once and I explained to Genaro that his customer was only lost temporarily. Eventually (but I hope never) I will go back to the day shift.
Wherever I've gotten my haircut I noticed two types of barbers. Those who work quickly and those who are more concerned about a job well done. It could be true of most people and how they approach their job. But barbers perform their work in front of a live auidence, consisting of multiple customers. Those customers soon realize which barbers cut hair well. Not which barber is quickest to finish. Saturday mornings are usually the busiest time for haircuts. On that morning the quicker barber will make more money. But that's the only time. The quick worker will be bored most days while people line up to visit the meticulous stylist.
One advantage to my nocturnal shift is less crowded barber shops during the weekdays.
My current barber shop has three chairs. Benny, John and Ben. It's a little confusing to have a Benny and a Ben in the same small shop.
One noticeable difference with this particular barber shop is the air compressor hoses attached under each of the three main mirrors. Those yellow hoses stick out when you first sit down. They use the compressed air instead of a blow-dryer when dusting off cut hair from their customers. It works well and I wonder why more places don't have this.
My first visit to this barber shop landed me in Ben's chair, furthest from the window. On the first visit you have to take your chances with which barber you get. Ben did a good job without rushing. So I went back a few times and requested the same person. Eventually the other barbers figured out I would wait for Ben so no words were necessary when I entered. I could just point and nod my head towards the chair near the wall.
I noticed that most customers waited for Benny, in the chair next to the window. Benny cut hair well and quickly. But that's not what made him popular. He was the most popular barber because of his friendly conversation. I sat in Benny's chair only twice. Both times Ben had a day off. (I never kept track of which days which barber worked.) He worked quickly both times. On the second seating he remembered me and my hair style. "Short flat-top?" He confirmed before starting.
On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving Ben cut my hair. Benny was working next to the window. When I was done I decided to go across the street, to SevenEleven, for coffee. I offered to buy both of them some coffee. Both declined. (I will eventually do a whole blog just on coffee etiqutte.)
Today's grooming was different. When I entered the place I noticed a new face near the window. As usual I sat down with Ben, near the wall. My first question "Whose rotating the barbers?" was asked with a smile but none was returned.
"Benny was hit by a car" Ben answered.
"Oh. Is he okay?" I calmly asked
"No. He was killed. He was closing up just over a week ago. He was walking across the street to get some coffee."
Life is too fragile. Too short.
The rest of my haircut was in silence. Partly because of the little electric buzzer.
Then I started getting my haircut in Manhattan during lunch. It saved time. Genaro works on 35th Street and 7th Avenue. He too has a real passion for haircuts and is also a biker. When I took the night shift I had difficulty being in Manhattan during the day. It worked out only once and I explained to Genaro that his customer was only lost temporarily. Eventually (but I hope never) I will go back to the day shift.
Wherever I've gotten my haircut I noticed two types of barbers. Those who work quickly and those who are more concerned about a job well done. It could be true of most people and how they approach their job. But barbers perform their work in front of a live auidence, consisting of multiple customers. Those customers soon realize which barbers cut hair well. Not which barber is quickest to finish. Saturday mornings are usually the busiest time for haircuts. On that morning the quicker barber will make more money. But that's the only time. The quick worker will be bored most days while people line up to visit the meticulous stylist.
One advantage to my nocturnal shift is less crowded barber shops during the weekdays.
My current barber shop has three chairs. Benny, John and Ben. It's a little confusing to have a Benny and a Ben in the same small shop.
One noticeable difference with this particular barber shop is the air compressor hoses attached under each of the three main mirrors. Those yellow hoses stick out when you first sit down. They use the compressed air instead of a blow-dryer when dusting off cut hair from their customers. It works well and I wonder why more places don't have this.
My first visit to this barber shop landed me in Ben's chair, furthest from the window. On the first visit you have to take your chances with which barber you get. Ben did a good job without rushing. So I went back a few times and requested the same person. Eventually the other barbers figured out I would wait for Ben so no words were necessary when I entered. I could just point and nod my head towards the chair near the wall.
I noticed that most customers waited for Benny, in the chair next to the window. Benny cut hair well and quickly. But that's not what made him popular. He was the most popular barber because of his friendly conversation. I sat in Benny's chair only twice. Both times Ben had a day off. (I never kept track of which days which barber worked.) He worked quickly both times. On the second seating he remembered me and my hair style. "Short flat-top?" He confirmed before starting.
On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving Ben cut my hair. Benny was working next to the window. When I was done I decided to go across the street, to SevenEleven, for coffee. I offered to buy both of them some coffee. Both declined. (I will eventually do a whole blog just on coffee etiqutte.)
Today's grooming was different. When I entered the place I noticed a new face near the window. As usual I sat down with Ben, near the wall. My first question "Whose rotating the barbers?" was asked with a smile but none was returned.
"Benny was hit by a car" Ben answered.
"Oh. Is he okay?" I calmly asked
"No. He was killed. He was closing up just over a week ago. He was walking across the street to get some coffee."
Life is too fragile. Too short.
The rest of my haircut was in silence. Partly because of the little electric buzzer.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
It's better to give...
Why do we blog? I'm not exactly sure.
Some gifts don't come from Santa. What are most kids asking for this Christmas? I went to muliple stores one morning searching for that gift. If you really need to know which gift it is you need to open a newspaper. Or shoot me an email because kids (my kids) read this blog too.
Yesterday I called a store to ask about a very popular item. The lady said 18 will be in stock on Sunday morning. Rebecca and Gregory are serving at the 8:30 Mass. I would have to go to another Mass by myself. My plan was to get to the mall early and buy one. Too many Long Islanders had the same plan. Furthermore their idea of "early" was earlier than my own.
So I did a drive-by. I was not envious of the 18+ people waiting in the small snowstorm.
I got to Mass a little late this morning. Lisa wasn't happy to see me because of the stench of failure. We been trying to get this item for weeks. (Next Sunday I need to venture out even earlier.)
Elizabeth has a friend who works where our most wanted item is sold. We now have that friend on speed-dial. Do parents need a support group, or team, to get results?
But what about Christmas past? I did score an Elmo doll when it was popular. We have the gift giving moment on video because we thought it would be a great. Megan was in shock as it began to have it's epileptic fit and tossed it down in fear. Elmo is very lonely in our house.
I was too young to care about buying a Cabbage Patch doll. And too old to want one.
When I arrived late at Mass, Father Tom spoke of the commercialization of Christmas.
Some gifts don't come from Santa. What are most kids asking for this Christmas? I went to muliple stores one morning searching for that gift. If you really need to know which gift it is you need to open a newspaper. Or shoot me an email because kids (my kids) read this blog too.
Yesterday I called a store to ask about a very popular item. The lady said 18 will be in stock on Sunday morning. Rebecca and Gregory are serving at the 8:30 Mass. I would have to go to another Mass by myself. My plan was to get to the mall early and buy one. Too many Long Islanders had the same plan. Furthermore their idea of "early" was earlier than my own.
So I did a drive-by. I was not envious of the 18+ people waiting in the small snowstorm.
I got to Mass a little late this morning. Lisa wasn't happy to see me because of the stench of failure. We been trying to get this item for weeks. (Next Sunday I need to venture out even earlier.)
Elizabeth has a friend who works where our most wanted item is sold. We now have that friend on speed-dial. Do parents need a support group, or team, to get results?
But what about Christmas past? I did score an Elmo doll when it was popular. We have the gift giving moment on video because we thought it would be a great. Megan was in shock as it began to have it's epileptic fit and tossed it down in fear. Elmo is very lonely in our house.
I was too young to care about buying a Cabbage Patch doll. And too old to want one.
When I arrived late at Mass, Father Tom spoke of the commercialization of Christmas.
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