Results tagged "History"

Enter Frank.

Hailing from the archives of unused promotional “Despicable Me”, 2010 movie paraphernalia, Frank entered our lives during one of the sweatier weekends in August. Hanging there — among duplicates of himself in the Carni Whack-a-Mole trailer at the St. Catherine’s Fair. Little did any of us know that he would soon find his way into our lives as a permanent fixture in the arms of our son. The necessity at bedtime – where is FRRAAANNNKKK? And why Frank? Usually when you ask Will what the name of something is, he comes up with something creative like BOKI, CRUD, or TIMBLEBOCHMAN. This one was very decided and definitive. FRANK. I have a few Uncles named Frank, although I don’t think this is an issue of keeping it in the family. We also have a dear friend named Frank, but I fail to see the similarities, although he might be flattered. The attraction? The one eye? The crooked smile? Frank only knows, and having never seen the movie version of this character — we think that FRANK is here to stay.

Frank, who has already required several repairs due to exhaustive play, is an everyday kind of bloak with a serious Boston accent. He practically whispers when he speaks and says things like “balls”, “you gonna eat that”, “he married a girl with ching” and “I’m gonna take him out back and beat the shit out of him” when the mailman makes the dog bark. On more than one occasion I’ve glared back — you know, trying to win the staring contest… but only once have I lost my marbs, screaming “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU LOOKING AT”, when faced with the 5 o’clock frenzies of overtired, hungry kids that won’t admit their delirium. I mean whatever — you try having that eye on you all day… silently judging. But then that crooked smile always pulls me back in — a swamp yankee’s charm.

He agrees that saying “Oh my GOSH” or “GOODNESS” is acceptable as a replacement for GOD — but has yet to concur with an alternate to “SUCKS”… Referring to this whole Red Sox Francona mess as a “WICKED SUCK BALL” which isn’t quite appropriate, but not entirely off the mark either. He’s simple, yet diverse — and, what I think I like about him the most is, he doesn’t shed — although he isn’t above stinking the place up. Frank, since we’ve had a few months now to grow into one another, for all that he encompasses, just might last as some other plush toys do. Meanwhile, I’m trying to overlook the overall design of his being — the germ like qualities and semi-failure of his movie career. But at the end of the day, how can you blame Hollywood for it’s misgivings when Will emulates nothing short of love.

I was going to write this post today about how this tumultuous relationship with the internet has become a little tried and boring… You know, the waves of been there, done that… Where is all the new stuff and who is going to entertain me now? I mean really. I’m just one person… I can’t be that hard to please, right? But then I decided that there is more to life than waiting for the inevitable and I turned on the television. Because when the printed word takes a break, where else are we going to get it from? CHILE. That’s where.

Yeah, that’s right. CHILE.

Because, at the time of writing this, 17 of the 33 miners that have been trapped underground for 69 days have reemerged to the surface… living to tell their tale. A real tale. A real story of survival that doesn’t come complete with 24/7 video clips of “what really happened”. Real survival — that doesn’t include a camouflaged camera crew or hidden recorders in the cavernous walls. We may never get to find out who teamed up with who in the test against time and oxygen. We’ll never know if that one suspicious guy waited until everyone was asleep to steal into his hidden stash of doritos and diet cokes… And we may never hear about the time that Chupacabra made a guest appearance during dance party Thursday… only to be shunned away by the elders who knew of his real intentions… That’s right. This was a real. We can only assume that these miners were carrying their own handy copies of The Complete Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook (CWCSSH, for short).

And while I may sound like I’m making light of this heroic scene… I’m not. I do believe in miracles and fun things like survival among natural disasters, which are my number one natural fears… I felt joyous and teary when I woke this morning to see families reuniting after such a painful amount of time… minutes feeling like days or weeks.. or longer. Knowing that someone you love is waiting to be saved and having very little power over the situation. Helplessness equaling a fear that I have never felt and hopefully never will — but still one that is understandably reachable. And that’s only looking at it from out here, in the sun — on the surface. What if you were trapped inside? Would you have had the umph to be hopeful amidst the struggle — or would you have hovered in the corner by yourself complaining about personal space? And answering the latter is not offensive… because I thought about it and pictured myself drawing a bubble around myself, which a good friend taught me last weekend — is the international symbol for MY SPACE ONLY…. And while I reach into my bag of selfishness to try to find the least selfish thing to say about what I would have done for 69 days, trapped underground in a Chilean mine with 32 other miners, I have to take the allowance to change the circumstances a wee bit to fit into my reality. Because, really… all I know about Chile is the extradition treaty of 1902.

First of all, I will never be in a mine in Chile. I know, shocker. And again, I feel the need to preface the rest of this nonsense with a disclaimer that by saying ‘I will never be in a mine in Chile’, I am not saying that I am better than you’re average Chilean Miner. Quite the opposite, in fact. All I am pointing out is that the possibilities of my ever finding myself in a mine in Chile, considering that I am a retired graphic designer with a two year old and only pockets of useless knowledge, are at best nonexistent. So, given this update to the scenario, I now find myself in Chile, possibly entering a building that might have an elevator… With my CWCSSH — page 335, “How to Survive Awkward Elevator Silence”… ending with, “…if silence continues, star at elevator walls or floor until it reaches your destination. Exit immediately…”. Other situations of comparable status include: “How to survive if trapped in the workplace” …”in a lion cage” ,”How to escape from a collapsed sofa bed”… “How to identify a nightmare workplace”…  “How to silence Christmas Carolers”… and “Last Ditch foods you can eat”… you know, your standard survival tactics. But aside from the whole “trapped” aspect of not being able to free oneself from the space doing the trapping… there really isn’t anything out there that can compare with what these miners have just gone through — and survived.

So while I sit here, thinking about what I’m going to make for dinner tonight, whether or not it’s going to rain tomorrow, and of course — whose going to get kicked off of America’s Next Top Model tonight, I think it might be proper to pause and give appreciation towards those that have seen the natural disaster and defied with strong wills and attitudes… Because, until that cell phone video recording of who was scuffing up the place while others slept emerges, we are going to have to rely on the 24/7 “BREAKING NEWS” to get our real time fix on the situation…

Yadda yadda yadda… Christopher Columbus arrived at the island of Trinidad, BIG DEAL! The first tie in All-Star Game major league baseball history was recorded when it was stopped in the 9th inning due to rain at Boston’s Fenway Park, CRYBABIES! …. The cornerstone of the U.S. Mint in Philadelphia, PA, was laid, WASTE OF TIME! …. Marilyn Bell, at age 17, became the youngest person to swim the English Channel, GET OVER YOURSELF! …. MGM’s Leo the lion roared for the first time, SO WHAT! …. and Nicolas Cage received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, WHO?!?

Given all of this useless information about WHATEVER,
obviously the only universal, noteworthy fact about
today is that it’s my Mom’s Birthday…

Happy Birthday!

I stopped short of posting something rather unpleasant yesterday…

And it’s a really good thing that I ended it when I did because today is July 28th, which is Annie’s birthday. As we all chime in … HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOOOOOOO YOOOOOUUUU… And this is the birthday time of year… because my Mom’s birthday is in a couple of days and then my other sister, Kate’s birthday is the day after… But that isn’t the point, because despite today being someone else’s day, I’m going to be THAT sister and write about me first... Because today is also Jackie O’s birthday (thanks to the birthday girl for that little factoid)…  And what would Jackie have done had she been me yesterday?

I’m not a mean person… And this blog is certainly not a forum for me to vent about my inability to forgive and forget… But after bumping into someone that wronged me long ago, I did not hesitate to abuse the power of the internet. I think I was able to hold off for about 3 hours after the spontaneous reunion before I started shaking and grabbed my ipad– making it all too easy to log on… my fingers were haphazard and typos were being flung about like the grunkle in my gardens. I was upset… confused… deranged. And, had my son not demanded that I get on the floor and build the world’s largest block gas station, IMMEDIATELY, you would have all sat back and read my little fit of rage and thought to yourselves… WOW– She REALLY needs to GET A LIFE.

Because what happened years ago was really horrible. I was thrown under possibly the largest dented and dirty, inner city-dun broke garbage bus imaginable by someone that I thought was a friend. Granted, I was suspect about what was going on at the time, but being the somewhat-naive-to-what-people-are-capable-of person that I was… I didn’t see it coming. And yesterday, in the hours that passed where I didn’t finish the post about my experience… I started to actually hear the knives… ranging from pocket-sized to kitchen to machetes… that have been lodged in my back for 2 1/2 years hitting the ground. And with that, I find it breathtaking and symbiotic that my Sister and Jackie O’ shared this day on some level… because there is no way that Annie, who was born in Washington DC on the hottest day in the history of the world until this year, would have even lifted a finger when faced with the enemy. Happy Birthdaaayyyy Toooooo Youuuuuuu……

I freaked a few people out yesterday — check out Dufmanno’s comment:

“Okay, that looks like the Native American Dorian Grey. Did this trip
involve a visit from the guys from Paranormal State, a cleansing ritual
and a mess of people apologizing for the colonization of the Americas?
I am worried for you and the family.”

The answer is no, she’s just a Native American that someone painted on the wall… you know, that urge to paint women randomly on bedroom walls… right? Although I did ask out loud about how many ghosts we were waking up… I was immediately told to stop acting weird.

A few years ago my husband and I came upon the rare opportunity to purchase a house that has been in his family since 1913. And when I say “been in his family” that’s what I mean because no one outside of the family has ever lived in it. Built by the Great Grandfather himself, and cared for by family and neighbors just STEEPED in tradition and history. So much so that I almost needed a spiritual reckoning before stepping foot over the town lines. These were and are amazing people filled with such goodness that you wonder just what is in the water… then they compliment you and do something else nice and you realize that it must be the soil… Then the snow melts and the flowers pop and smile… Even the rain is happy. It took me a long time to realize that these were really genuinely nice people — they didn’t want anything from me… They weren’t out to get me. In fact, if you can believe this, it was actually ME that was the weirdo with that sarcasm and pocket full of kryptonite… who knew?

So anyway. A few years ago my husband and I came upon this opportunity and we took it. We bought Pop’s house after he passed away. We bought it with the intentions of fixing it up and renting it out and then of course using it over holidays–AND we did this despite the fact that we live 4 hours away from it… And then it sat. We thought about it a few times over the years… paid it a few visits… even rented it out to those that didn’t mind it’s condition. It sat there waiting for us… settling into being the house that SOMETHING was eventually going to happen to. Life took over… until last Monday (one week ago) we decided to do something about it…This is just the beginning… we have tons of work to do.
  

Can we just talk, for a minute, about how fast time goes by?
I mean, really.
Why must time, and the lack thereof, feel so chaotic… I mean we know that it is fleeting but does it have to feel so hectic at the same time?

This past weekend we had friends visiting — it was a blast, but the time went way too fast. And now, it’s Monday (yes, posting this on Tuesday–that’s how much time I had… just enough to write but not to actually publish) but then between design projects, this blog, finishing the downstairs bathroom, playing in the endlessly falling leaves with the boy, making sure to record it all as I go, cooking dinner–What would you do with a Spaghetti Squash?–Seeking out a cure for childhood food allergies, blaming it all on politics and the new Southampton Post Office… Ugh, going to the grocery store–Again. Laundry. And the clutter that I can’t seem to crawl out from under..Wow and only ten minutes before my conference call and then off to the doctor again to see if I can’t score a flu shot. Let’s just consider this week over. And then a wedding in the city on Saturday night–I have no idea what I am going to wear (any suggestions?)… Then two weeks of the same combined with our wedding anniversary, Thanksgiving and Will’s birthday.

Okay.. seven minutes until the conference call. How did we manage to pack a lifetime into the month of November? Did we sit down and say – this is the month that we are going to get it ALL DONE. Everything. Lifetime events paired with the necessary holiday traveling and My God – The PACKING! Couldn’t we have spread our lives out a little bit? I mean… we have 11 other months to work with, why do it all in one? And what am I doing here typing this — with everything else that needs to get done? Okay, 3 minutes left….The typing slows…as my mind goes blank and I suddenly find the silence to breathe.

Yeah I hear ya. Big WHATEVS on Pumpkintown, been there – done that. What is with this blog and Pumpkintown? Well – I don’t quite have it figured out either, but I can say that I think we’ve seen it all. Mother Nature is going to have to bring out the big guns — 70+°, breezy, puffy non-threatening clouds, HUGE smiling sun, vodka, french fries from the streets of Amsterdam (sans mayo), and a four-horse drawn chariot to pull me among the wooden playthings to get us back through Hank’s gates this year… even though it is for FREE. What do you think too much for the MOTHER? MA, MAAAmmm!

Thanks Hank of Water Mill fame!

….. Ooooo went the wind. And out went the lights. And the five little pumpkins rolled out of site!

Throwback posts:
Hank’s Pumpkintown – The first visit.
Hey Kids–Here’some corn, go get lost…

A lovely day, thanks to the Southampton Historical Museum… I agree with you Hayden, a little wine sipping would have been great… Hint hint vineyards of the Long Island New York North & South forks… hint hint indeed.

Continue Reading Southampton Harvest Festival…

Jeff Koons at Versailles… what a brilliant combination. I bet Louis XIV would have loved his work… Just imagine the Opening that Marie Antoinette would have thrown. Opulence (and delusion) in it’s greatest form. We love it.