Results tagged "Death"

A few weeks ago we had guests for the 4th of July weekend.

And, YES. I know how long ago that was…over a month and SEVERAL DAYS. But I know. While you were all WHAT IS SHE DOING, I was totally holding back and not telling you… Because, sometimes I get caught up in other things — like word fluency, colors, being awesome at everything while not putting any pressure on myself, and an old little Indian man who wears a leather dress with a 3 foot mohawk, carrying a suitcase with a giant British flag on it… who rides the New Haven Line at 8:40pm only to disembark in Cos Cob, Connecticut.  Okay, so maybe not in that order, but WHATEVER – do you know what’s in Cos Cob? BOATS. BOATS and DOCKS…. and cute little neighborhoods with Bed & Breakfasts and Civil War statuses… please note that it is ‘statuses’, not ‘stati’ — which is what I really wanted to use, but I could sense several frowns approaching. Also, I’m not that awesome… ask around, they know.

So yes, time is passing rather fast, as one would hope amid drought and buggy conditions… but the summer has not been without its little quirks and giggles. It feels like only yesterday that I was crossing the street in Southampton, when a Lexus convertible filled with teenagers came flying around the corner, creating a near death experience to which I reacted by holding up my hand… I mean I could have screamed and started doing jumping-jacks… but no. I thought a simple hand would suffice… which it did… but it also created a gaggle of “DUDE, Don’t be SO UPTIGHT”, among the passengers… The hand, you know, being so STRESSED OUT.

Then there was the lady at Schmidt’s Market that filled her cart to the brim with fresh local corn, only to wheel it to the register, ask the cashier how fresh it was and then decide that picked-yesterday was way too long ago… leaving the cart in the middle of everything, for everyone else to deal with… I offered to help put it back, but the cashier was too amused by the fact that the lady was on her way to the closest, more expensive farmstand… that Schmidt’s Market stocks…with freshly yesterday-picked corn.

And then there are the other things… like bathing suits on people that, ugh, just shouldn’t… tasting everything before you order, pushing, shoving, bossing, ignoring… And my favorite, hitting the horn as soon as the light turns green… no matter how many people are in front of you. I mean, come on. WHERE ARE YOU GOING? There is a beach at the end of EVERY ROAD. You can’t be in that much of a hurry unless you are on your way out of town… In which case, let me get out of your way.

But a few weeks back it was still the 4th of July, Annie and Rob were visiting, and none of these other aforementioned had happened yet. So our brains were fresh and new. We were enjoying our weekend when suddenly our Dad, who was in another state, seemed to be trying to reach us via cell phones, that had no service on the beach… Upon returning home, the caller ID on the house phone told us the same… Back and forth we kept missing each other when FINALLY. He had initially thought that one of us may have been arrested due to a missed call to his blackberry from the Southampton County Court… He immediately tried to reach us. But it wasn’t until a message actually dropped into his voicemail that the story began, but never really ended. We, obviously, weren’t in jail… and the message was definitely not intended for our Dad, but for someone else…who apparently had access to unlimited funds…

We’re still waiting on those 20Gs. And regardless of this message being mistakenly placed in our Dad’s inbox as a joke intended for someone else, OR the real damn thing, Southampton ROCKS…. And summer isn’t over just yet. Not to mention the AWE SHUCKS in NEVER KNOWING… So, please talk amongst yourselves… Who do you think it was, and how did it end?

Meanwhile… I’ll be here, husking corn, planning for a few more late summer guests and thinking about the little Indian man, with 4″ platform boots and piercings all over his body… getting off the train in Cos Cob for a little B&B, R&R… because it is August, and that’s how it should be done.

Its been a few days now since Guest Birds have started landing here at For the Birds. I am both boggled and overwhelmingly flattered by the response that I have received. It’s been fun to connect with everyone in this new and interesting way…  Although, I do have to come clean and admit, however, that this was not originally my idea. Bloggers have been guesting or contributing since the beginning of Blognation… But it is unusual, perhaps, for a website such as For the Birds.

It all started when I was approached by a woman that is writing an allergy cookbook for kids. Those of you that read this blog know that this is a topic that I am deeply involved with so — it should come as no surprise that I rolled out the red carpet and agreed to have the author submit a guest post in promotion of her upcoming book. We emailed back and forth  – how exciting, blah blah blah… then silence. Nothing. Just my voice echoing in the caverns of the internet… I waited for two weeks and then emailed her again…

See — I am an avid scheduler. I even schedule things that have already happened. And then there is my patience and the lack there-of. So the relationship was beginning to itch a little when she responded – Next week she would be sending me her piece. Hurrah! Quick to the Internet – tell the world! And so I did … Well, either I took my wit and hit her over the head with a cinder block or Ooops, stuck my foot out and Whoops down the marble stairs she fell… Or… (read from the bottom up)

We’ve lived here on Long Island for … I want to say 10 years rounding up, but to be precise… 7 years, 6 months and 31 days. All this time I have been walking past the giant blueberry bush in our backyard with curiosity — but for some strange reason, always assumed that the fruit was poison. “You can’t EAT those” I’ve exclaimed many times… I don’t recollect any traumatic near death berry eating experiences — although I didn’t exactly grow up in the woods scrounging for food. And I do love blueberries.

Then for a while I harbored this weird procrastination-like theory that why bother with the blueberry bush — the birds eat them all anyway… as if I know this for a fact? I imagined myself getting swooped down upon for approaching the fruit once it was ripe… Oh well — you can’t eat them anyway. This year, for whatever reason, it dawned on me that — they aren’t wild blueberries… this is a well groomed — manicured blueberry bush that must be … 8 feet tall and probably 10 ft around…. Someone planted it. Obsession kicked in.. and has certainly paid off….

I was going to write a post today about how boring Royal Pains is turning out to be…. it doesn’t even look like it was filmed here [in the Hamptons]… And, sadly, the role of Brother is becoming annoying….. Instead, I am going to dedicate this for the birds, daily observation to a man of passion… Michael Jackson.

Yes – I know that everyone is doing it. But I have to admit that this passing knocked me down…. The first celebrity death to actually bring tears to my eyes. Now there are discrepancies… did he die at 2:30 or 5:30? Or is the media unaware of a 3 hour time difference between coasts? Is there any possibility that he’s just hanging out with Elvis somewhere? Maybe he just became so sick of everyone making fun of his bizarre life — just wanted everyone to leave him alone… what’s wrong with daily doses of plastic surgery, armbands and putty like skin? Maybe that’s just how he liked it. LEAVE ME ALONE MAN! Don’t know what to Be so BEAT IT!

Growing up with Michael Jackson posters on my walls. Thriller being one of the first albums I ever owned (despite a massive and rather bizarre crush on Eddie Van Halen) and dancing with my sister Annie [ are you Okay, are you Okay Annie?!]… Pretending to be zombies. The Moon Walk. Hours and days of fun. He was cool. Very cool. And although he became — let’s just say odd, he still continued to influence and create… 

Now the media is not going to let this go. It’s just all too juicy and weird. It’s going to get nasty…. things are going to be revealed and regular people — you know, like the ones portrayed on Royal Pains — are going to have to absorb every gooey detail and dissection of this man’s life. Let’s just all keep in mind that he was the one… the one that wanted to rock with you (all night)… just burnin that disco out. Just another man in the mirror… ok, I’ll stop.