Punishing Zeb

I wish he were always this peaceful.

But he's the reason my gray hairs have been popping out at an exponential rate.

He's been getting into trouble lately at school. It's not in the slacking grade sort of trouble. His average is in the 90s and he's in several honors classes.

But like most teens his age, he likes to goof around. His problem is he doesn't know when to stop.

For the second time this week, he's been given detention for taking his goofiness to the nth degree. Last week, he was busted for skateboarding in the middle school. It's beyond me to know why he was in the middle school, much less skateboarding there. This time, he gave a substitute some lip and got squeezed. Of course, he denied both charges, claiming he was set up.

Yeah, right. They all say that.

Skippy and I know that the most effective punishment we have for him is to take away those activities he loves most -- skateboarding, playing XBox, and scouring the Internet for new ska bands. Of course, he considers these punishments unfair and he endures them because he also knows we can't punish him forever.

So, what are two frustrated parents to do with his mangansone? We were at our wits end when we caught this story on our local cable news this morning:

Noisy Handed Manilow Punishment

Ha! I can't wait until he gets home from school today to greet him with an hour of this:




Judge Paul Sacco is my fucking hero!

But I'll leave the question to you my dear 7 readers... are we being too cruel?

45 and Counting

I turned 45 on Sunday.

As birthdays go, this one was fun.

I woke up early to play touch football with these guys.

Okay, that wasn't quite so much fun. I had only one pass thrown my way, and had to listen to a loud-mouthed teammate tell me my defense skills weren't so against a kid half my age and five times as fast. I still had fun.

While I was enjoying an afternoon of professional football, watching the New York New Jersey Jets and Giants continue on the path to a first-ever Gotham Meadowlands Bowl, another LIRR train went off the tracks.


No one was hurt in this wreck, but it's sure screwing up the morning and evening rush hours for the next few days. Thankfully, I won't experience any of the delays or train cancellations caused by this accident because I'm off this week. Yes, I'm still fuming about being passed over for the locomotive's engineer's job, but I would never wish them another derailment, especially not on my birthday.







After all, how could I wish ill will on anyone when Rick and Skippy make me this yummy crumb cake? This but was one of several gifts I got yesterday.






I got gift cards for Dunkin Donuts and Barnes and Noble. Two of my favorite establishments. They fell from this really cool birthday card that said I rocked.

A few of my friends called, sent me text messages, and wrote on my wall on Facebook, all to wish me a happy 45th.

But by far, the best part of my birthday had to be when me and the rest of the Spartacus clan sat down for a movie night. Because I rock, I chose This is Spinal Tap. To me and Eileen, this movie is timeless. To my boys, this movie is a classic oldie. To Noodle, this movie was just plain "stooopid."

What does she know? She's a Jonas Brothers fan. They've got nothing on St. Hubbins and Tufnel.

I have to tell you, I don't know what was funnier:

This scene at the airport


or, keeping count of all the times Noodle said, "I don't get it."

Yeah, I turned 45 last Sunday, and this one was fun.

Accidents Will Happen

"Bang!"

"Crunch"

"Squeaaal"

"Shiiiish"


These were the sounds that jarred me from my slumber this morning as I was making my way into work aboard the 6:47AM train out of Lindenhurst.


Our train was side-swiped by a double-decker diesel/electric train as they were both leaving Jamaica Station at about 7:35 AM.

The incident was nothing like this LIRR collision -- Long Island Rail Road's Worst Train Crash.

The force of the impact derailed the car I was in and the one behind us. Our train was crossing over an interlocking (or a track switch) when we were hit. Because of where the trains collided, I have to assume that my train had the right of way, and that the engineer of the double-decker simply fucked up.

I was in the fifth car of a six-car train. Earlier, I bitched privately about the fact that our train was short two cars, but I let go of my angst once I found a seat. What's the point? Would we get two cars back by calling the LIRR President, Helena E. Williams, to rant about the service?

Ring! Ring!

Me: Ms. Williams, you're a Mooselini McDoodyhead!

Williams: Spartacus, go fuck yourself!

Click!

I could also bitch about the fact that the LIRR took a pass on me for the locomotive engineer's job back in July. I'm kind of glad I didn't get it. I could be the poor schmuck driving the double-decker. Given that the unemployment rate in NY is on the rise, I'm just glad to have a job.

No. I'll leave the bitching and moaning to the good folks at Transit Blogger.com. That's just not my milieu.

I digress.

There were only three minor injuries reported, thank goodness. I saw a young guy laid out on a flatboard as I was walking off the rescue train. He was conscious and moving his extremities as FDNY paramedics were strapping hard foam padding around his head to keep it from moving. I'll take that as a good sign.

It must be some Long Island commuter instinct, because after we got past the initial shock of the accident we all pulled out our mobile phones, not to call loved ones, but to tell the boss we'll be late. Skippy was my third call ... sorry Skip. But she knows the drill: if there's no blood, call the boss first; a sad reality of corporate employment.

My blogger instinct reared it's ugly head, too, because I recognized instantly the blog-ability of this accident and snapped a few shots with my phone camera. These shots suck. I know. It's the best I could do.






















I finally made it into work at 9:30AM where I was greeted by several concerned co-workers wanting to know if I was okay, and wondering what supplies they could pilfer from my desk if I wasn't. I laughed it off. I told them it was all my fault; that I had stolen the train to satisfy my desire to become a locomotive engineer.

Sometimes you have to have a sense of humor about these things.

Casey Jones - The Grateful Dead

Twenty Four Words

I'm so glad the Presidential election is over. I still worry about how Obama will handle his new role as President come January 20, 2009. Like many of you, I am hopeful, but cautiously so. For now, however, there's really nothing else to do but wait for his term in office to begin. While we wait, I give you this.

The Twenty Fours.

I've been working on this poetry project for quite some time. I liken the verse to a combination of haiku and sonnet in that I tried to stick to a specific form and meter. I have no rationale for constricting myself to 24 words over 5 lines. It was an arbitrary decision that made sense at the time I started this project.

Here's what I have so far.

1.
Maple eyes inlaid with
The smiling lines
That show the beauty of her age.
I am visibly shaken
By each sideways glance she throws.

2.
The juice of a hard lozenge
Occupies my tongue
And coats the fire in my throat
Dousing my outrage
Before I speak my mind.

3.
Until logic tells me otherwise
I plan to live
A life for which one
brutal truth exists:
With you is where my love lies.

4.
If I could turn
My words into morsels
Of rice, fish and vegetables,
I'd write my hand ragged
Until all the hungry are fed.

5.
Time is my ally
Until the moment
I draw my next to last breath
When I realize the sadness
Of a life without you.

6.
The hollow in my heart echoes
the clamor of your love.
It captures your rattles,
bangs and glorious music
played softly in dissonant tones.

Dear Senator Obama

Dear Senator Obama:

I voted for you this morning. I did so in the hopes that you will live up to the promises you made regarding "Change."

I had no doubt about the choice I made this morning, as I waited in line at the Lindenhurst Snails Firehouse on Heling Boulevard, a quarter mile from my home. I was the 24th voter in my Election District (110th E.D.), which, I hope, is one of thousands cast in my town. Sadly, we are represented in Congress by Peter King (R-NY). I voted for his opponent, Graham Long, largely because of King's unwavering support for George Bush policies, and because you're going to need all the votes you can get in Congress to effectively fulfill your vision.

It pleases me that you have articulated a vision for our nation in print; that you have developed a lasting and enduring record to which we can refer should you waver from it. If you are sincere in this Senator, then I want what you want. These are my top five issues you promised to address, in no particular order:

• Tax cuts for the middle class
  
• Health care reform
• An end to the Iraqi occupation
• More government investment in infrastructure and education
• A more regulated financial market that keeps Corporate America from the rampant speculation that put us in the mess we're in now. And while you're at it, please find a way to restructure the disastrous bailout deal that provides zero accountability for those investment banks that are literally feeding at the U.S Treasury trough.
  

But please bear that I will not view your election to President as a coronation. Nor will I celebrate it with wild abandon as if to say "our problems have been solved." You know as well as I do Senator that your election would be but a baby step in the right direction and a tenuous one at best. I am taking a gamble with you, playing a hunch using the best information I have available to me at this moment. Please take this in the spirit it's intended Senator, but I intend to hold you accountable to both your promises and your actions.

Presently, I am not happy with your vote to provide retro-active immunity to telecommunications companies that spied on Americans at the behest of the President without a warrant. They knowingly violated a Constitutional right and you let them slide.

Not am I pleased with your vote for the Wall Street bailout. If Naomi Klein's recent article in Rolling Stone magazine doesn't convince you that Corporate America has no intention of making good on their promises in exchange for our help, then I will make a point of letting you know that this is the case. Sir, I am adamant on this point. Please close the trough.

Finally, I am also not enamored with you decision to continue President Bush's Faith-based initiative to provide needed public services. While I view the public assistance provided by the religious faithful as a good thing, then they should have no problem doing so under the aegis of a government program that prohibits religious proselytizing of any kind. Finding God should not be a pre-requisite to being helped.

Senator Obama, please know that with my vote you will have my support. Indeed, my support is conditional, but know, too, that you have it. I place my trust in you, not just for myself, but for my children. Unlike me, they have yet to realize the American dream as articulated in your plan and what's worse, they are captives to the votes I cast this day.

Please don't let us down.

Sincerely,

John Nieves
Lindenhurst, NY