We-Robot

The other day I went to Sports Authority and Home Depot with three of my friends.  Boring, that is nothing to blog about.

The other day I went to Sports Authority and Home Depot with three of my friends - and bought matching outfits, 12 feet of duct piping, and lots of tin foil. Kind of interesting, but still not sure of this is Blog-Worthy.

 The other day I went to Sports Authority and Home Depot with three of my friends - and bought matching outfits, 12 feet of duct piping, and lots of tin foil - so that we can dress up as robots to compete in the 1st Annual Astoria Pub Golf Competition. Winning!!!

Hi.  I am 31 years old.  I have a 2-month old son. I have a wife.  I teach children.  And yes, I dressed up as a robot to chug beers yesterday in Astoria, Queens.  There were Pirates, Mexican Banditos, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles at this drink fest - but as you would expect the Robots defeated the human race. It was an unfair advantage, we are half-man/half-machine - oh and we had a space ship (courtesy of Mike, Michelle, and CVS.)

I knew from the moment we went shopping together as a foursome that this trip would be blog-worthy, but I didn't know what I would talk about until the actual event happened.  I could give the play-by-play of the events that took place, or explain what pub golf is and how we did this same activity on my bachelor party, or I could talk about my friend Sean's co-workers who set this up and how even though we all met for the first time yesterday, there is a real bonding experience between people who are dressed in costumes when it is not Halloween and you are chugging beers.

Instead I want to talk about how nice the people of this world are to Robots.  You would think if 4 people dressed with tin-foil hats, metal piping on their arms and legs, carrying a big space ship (cardboard box) stepped on to the same subway car as you, then the people on the car would turn the other way in disgust... Eh, more drunken a**holes from Long Island... But that never happened - we had a father and son intrigued asking great questions:  

SON: If you have a spaceship, why are you taking the 7 train? FATHER: There going to be drinking so they can't drive the spaceship. -

I mean we are teaching great life lessons here - don't drink and drive - even if you are a robot!

We had women stopping us on the street to take pictures with us like we were celebrities.  People were smiling, pointing, laughing, having a good time.  A restaurant even let us construct our space ship inside since it was too windy for us to do it outside.  Another woman actually blogged about us asking who the people in the tin-foil hats were on 30th Ave. yesterday in Astoria because her daughter wants a hat.  Role Models!

What I concluded from this fun drinking expedition is that everyone, no matter age or life situation, no matter if you are a robot, a pirate, a bandito, or a ninja turtle - you should take one day a year to dress up, to visit a place you have never been before (even if its only 30 minutes away), to have a drink or two or nine, to meet new people, to talk to a stranger, and to find your own space ship and let it take you for a ride.

In the meantime, I will be waiting for the 2nd Annual Astoria Pub Golf Challenge - and it seems like I will have to finally watch the Lord of the Rings movies - as next year it's a LOTR themed event.

Thanks again for Listening to Lumpy

St. Knicks

Back in 1996, I was in the 11th grade, watching the Knicks game with my Dad - it wasn't just any Knicks game though - the Knicks who were hovering around .500 were playing against the 54 win - 6 loss Chicago Bulls, The Jordan/Pippen Bulls - and the Knicks had a new head coach, a little guy named Jeff Van Gundy.  The Knicks played with a purpose that night, they played their best game of the season, Patrick Ewing had 26 points and 14 boards, altogether the Knicks had six players in double figures.  The Knicks ended up winning by 32 points, which was in fact how many points Jordan had in the game - cruising to a victory and handing the mighty Bulls only their 7th loss of the season.  It was simply put... fantastic!  But it was more than that, it wasVan Gundy's first win as a Knicks head coach, so I turned to my dad and said...

"VANtastic!"

Yes it was corny, and for those of you who know me well, I pride myself on being able to come up with catchy phrases or names of games, or nights for bars, that are usually extremely corny. I am used to the regular pathetic giggle from the friends, or the "cornball" comments from my students.  In fact when I worked at the Nutty Irishman my job was every Wednesday to sit down with management and give them 10 ideas. They told me 9 would be the worst ideas that they have ever heard of, but that 10th one, that 10th one was perfect - they would start to laugh, how come we never thought of that? Some examples:

Peat N Pong - Peat Moss, Beer Pong it was legendary

M.O.M.S. (Mondays on Main Street) ex. Where you going, I'm just going to Moms.

Double The Love Party - Twice as much fun as Valentines, this was for a friend's birthday which we held on the 28th of February, 28 is twice as much as 14, 14th is Valentines day, hence - Double The Love - that is how my brain works.

All this corniness started for me on March 11th, 1996 - the day after the Knicks huge win - my dad woke me up by calling my name, "Joe, come take a look at this!" - I run downstairs and see my dad holding the Newsday to the back cover, sports section, and there it is, in big words... my words... "VANtastic!"

I was hooked.  After any meaningful sporting event I would give it a shot, sometimes I would tell someone else so that I had proof, eventually I just played this game inside of my head...  I have gotten a few here and there, and I got today's - that is what brought me back to the first one.  Today I woke up and saw, "St. Knicks." - It was an easy one, Christmas, Knicks opening day, it wasn't rocket science - but I saw it coming.  It made me smile to think back to that day in 1996 when my corniness started.

Now my students get to experience it each day when they walk in my classroom, my friends get to experience it every time we get together for a few Bud Lights, my wife gets to experience it on a day to day basis (poor her), and eventually my son will get to experience it - and hopefully one day after watching a game together he will turn to me and say something extremely corny.  9 times out of 10 it might be something very silly, but every once in a while, it will be "VANtastic!"

Christmas Eve Eve

In case you haven't heard the day before the day before Christmas is a new holiday - Christmas Eve Eve.  I did not learn about this holiday until I met Carroll Anne (the wife).  This has become the day when we exchange gifts and here I am at 10 p.m. on December 23rd and little Tommy has already opened the gifts for his very first Christmas.  He got several books, very cute outfits, and a New York Giants hat (which I hope he wears with pride tomorrow.)

December 23rd used to be the day I finished my Christmas shopping, in fact today I was at Target getting some last gifts, but instead of having the Eve to wrap, there I was rushing home to wrap so that we can exchange on the Eve's Eve. 

It still has all the Christmas flare, we put the gifts under the tree, Ca had hot chocolate, I had some egg nog, Tommy had his pacifier - we were all set.  Fios TV turned to 1818, Holiday Hits. Our families first Christmas, the only thing that was missing was Christmas itself.

She has a good point, tonight is the only night where it will be just the three of us.  Tomorrow we head to her aunt and uncles then to my aunt and uncles, get home way past midnight early into Christmas morning, then wake up on actual Christmas morning and have my side come to our house for gift exchange and then to her parents house for dinner.  These two days, filled with great food, great wine, great people, and great times, oh and a great Christmas Mass at Our Lady of the Snow, let's not forget the reason we are celebrating - these next two days as amazing as they are, they are jam packed and that was before we had a 10 pound 10 ounce two month old joining us for the festivities.  So I get it, this is a nice night, the calm before the storm, for us to celebrate as a family, to do our thing, just the three of us.

So I guess I am looking to you for your advice (Carroll Anne won the Great Dinner Debate, as most of you commented that you agreed with her on that battle.) - Is Christmas Eve Eve a holiday, or should we wait til the 25th to celebrate?

HAVE A HAPPY HOLIDAY and THANKS FOR LISTENING TO LUMPY! 

The Great Dinner Debate

Choosing where to eat on date night can be make or break. Are you going to have enough time for apps?  My wife and I have different theories on restaurant choosing so I thought I would share with you our two sides to the Great Dinner Debate and let you decide which side you're on:

A NEW PLACE vs. A RECOMMENDATION - LET THE BATTLE BEGIN


So the question came up as the wife and I were driving west towards the city, no plans in mind, this was pre-child when we could waste an hour or two deciding where to eat, now I have to schedule when I am going to use the bathroom.  Where do you want to go to eat? It's a big question, that comes up very often in relationships, and to get to a decision can take longer than the meal itself.  She started off by reeling off a bunch of places that friends from work told her about, (insert name) said the pasta is amazing at (insert Italian name here.) All the girls from work go there, we should go, its supposed to be soooo good!!!


MY THEORY - A NEW PLACE


So here I am sitting in traffic, hunger kicking in, listening to my wife tell me all about these great places nearby that would be very easy to get to, and sound amazing based on what her friends were telling her about it.  And that is when I realized, I don't like to listen to recommendations, I am an explorer, a discoverer.  This is my theory:  If you go to a restaurant that you heard is amazing, and order a dish that you heard was amazing, then at best your experience will be just that, amazing... nothing more, nothing less.  And what kind of amazing is it?  It's not your amazing, it's someone else's amazing, so there is a cap on how high the amazingness level can hit.  There are only two things that will happen when you go off someone else's recommendation, either you will not think the place is as good as they said it was, therefore leading to awkwardness around the water cooler, Can you believe so-and-so likes that place, oh it was awful.  Or what most likely would happen, you would agree with your friends suggestion and as they did, also think of this place as amazing.  But there is no passion in that feeling because it is not your feeling, it is someone else's words, it is someone else's amazing.  This is probably the reason why I never watched the Lord of the Rings movies, or why it took me until the final season to finally start watching Lost.  I have an issue with doing things that I already know the outcome of, if everyone says a movie is great, why should I watch it?  I know its gonna be great, but it's not my great, it's somebody else's.  So I guess my point was, I rather find a new restaurant that we never heard of before, just by driving around exploring, and take the risk of it being awful or amazing.  In fact it would be better than amazing because there are no expectations, there is no ceiling to the amazingness factor in discovering a new place to eat.  You are the one setting the expectation, you can put whatever word you want on it, and it will be yours.  Where there are expectations there are limitations, if you take away the expectations then you are left with an infinite amount of space to let your imagination run wild, and in this case your taste buds.

HER THEORY - RECOMMENDATIONS ARE GOLDEN


The wife seems to believe in listening to her friends and family's suggestions in choosing a place to eat.  She feels that if you risk going somewhere that you know nothing about then it could be a horrible experience, a waste of time, and a waste of money. I want to know I am going to like it before I go, I don't like surprises.  Which is very true, she planned her own surprise birthday party last year, just kidding, but not really.  She told me, if I know that a restaurant has a type of food I like, and it is very good, then yes I want to experience that as well.  She loves to listen to people's suggestions, she is always googling (really a red line under googling, how is this not a word yet?) to get advice from other people.  And it does make sense, her theory does make sense, it is just not the way I see it.  Her way, you know what you're getting will most likely be really good, you then can report back to the friend that suggested it and that is always fun I guess, and your experience will be simply put, amazing.  Just not your amazing.

THE QUESTION I PROPOSED


So now it comes to you, my readers, to answer the question that I asked my wife on that very night.  If the same chef made the same exact meal, and he gave it to you at Restaurant A (which you knew about from friends at work who said it was amazing) and then he served it to you at Restaurant B (a place you stumbled upon while driving around on a random night) would they taste the same?


She said it would.
I said it would not.

What do you say?

Listen To Lumpy: Oh Baby...Pocket ACE's

Listen To Lumpy: Oh Baby...Pocket ACE's: So there have been many things that I have done since becoming a father a little over two months ago that I never thought I would do: Stick...

Oh Baby...Pocket ACE's

So there have been many things that I have done since becoming a father a little over two months ago that I never thought I would do:

• Sticking my finger in a diaper to check for poo

• Getting thrown up on by someone who was not drunk

• Willingly sitting in the last row at a Hofstra Basketball game to be far away from the noise and horns

• Strolling around the Sunrise Mall just for the sake of strolling around the Sunrise Mall

• Paying close to $40 for one, yes ONE, picture of my kid with Santa when I am the proud owner of both a camera and a big enough belly to impersonate Mr. Claus  

And then there was the tale of this morning, something happened today that I never thought would happen in my entire lifetime... I got to ACE Hardware on a Sunday morning before they were even open!  They open at 9 A.M.. Yet, there I was, sitting in the parking lot waiting in my car with all the other dads for them to open up shop.  For those without a calendar nearby, Sunday mornings come right after Saturday Nights.  There have been some Saturday Nights in my early 20's where I would bartend at Muls, go drink at the Inn, then head to the diner and not get home until 8 in the morning... Now I am up pacing around my house waiting for ACE to open its doors so I can get my day started.  Life changer!  And what's even more amazing to me then being there pre-nine o'clock is that I don't mind it one bit- I actually enjoy my trips to ACE. 

Before my wife and I bought a house in the summer of 2010, I probably had been inside an ACE store five times max in my whole life, and now there have been days when I have gone to ACE more than five times in one single day... It's both crazy and I love it!  I have even gone to two different ACE's within the same car trip and haven't complained once.  It used to be that the only time I liked seeing two ACE's together was when I was playing Texas Hold Em' - but no longer is that true.  POCKET ACES has a whole new meaning in my world.

Today, I also realized how good I am getting at navigating the aisles of ACE - just like how I had mastered the lines at All American (always go for the middle line, it looks packed but it's not, the middle line is always the way to go.) I can only imagine years from now going in to ACE, calling the employees by their first names, as I might have tools and small nails in my pockets, and they will probably call me "Boss" or "Chief" or "Big Joe" something cool like that, and I will use the lingo right back at them: Hey Carl, just pickin up a 52 inch for the quarter caper on the fluce net for my shed... Ok, so I don't have the logistics down yet, but someday I will.

And when that day comes, I will be in the parking lot, at 8:55 in the morning with the other dads,  a smile on my face, just waiting for those doors to open.

THANKS FOR LISTENING TO LUMPY

A Promise

Baptism is an introduction, an admittance, an entry into a new existence.  Yet today, on the day of my first son's Baptism, it began with me thinking not of someone beginning a new life, but of someone whose life had ended more than seven years ago.  My father, the namesake of my son, would have loved to have been there today in person for his first grandchild's Baptism, but instead he was there in spirit.  And as we sat there celebrating a new life entering this world, I received a message from a close friend that on this same day her father too had passed.  This is the 3rd of my close friends to lose a father since my father's passing.  It does not get any easier.  It is not something you get better at with experience.  I started to think of all the fathers whom we lost in my circle of friends, and of all the friends who became fathers during those same years. 

These great men shaped our lives-they made us who we are.  It is because of the people they were that made us the people that we are and the reason that we are all friends.  Being a new father, I hope I can be half the man that these men were, the kind of men who would do anything for their kids, for their friends, and for their community.  So now, as my generation is becoming fathers, mothers, uncles, and aunts, it is to men like this and those that are still around to mold us that we will look to for advice, for comfort, for guidance, for love, for support, and for everything in between.  What we can all do best to remember these men that left this world too early, is to remember everything they taught us, all of their life lessons, and pass them on to our children in the next generation. This is so that we become the people whom our kids will look to for every answer to every question that they might ever have.

The pain never fully goes away, but neither does the joy that they brought to our lives.  And on most days, the joy outweighs the pain.  It took months for me to get past rounding the bend to my house, my dad's van parked in the driveway, thinking for a split second that he was home, that he would be there for me when I opened the door, but he wasn't.  He was gone. But even though he was gone, he will never be forgotten.  Even though he was not there in person for me to see his smile, or to give him a hug, he was there, and I could talk to him, and if I would let him, he would respond.  My dad, like all the dads we have lost, will always be there, and you can still look to them for advice, for comfort, for guidance, for love, for support, and for everything in between. 

I can now look into my son's eyes and see around his neck, a cross that was made from my father's wedding band, a gift from my mother on this day, and see tangible evidence that he will be a huge part of my son's life.  But I already knew that.  He is such a huge part of who I am that he, by default, will become such a huge part of who my son becomes.  He will always be there for me and for his grandson, Tommy.

To all the dads out there, thanks again for everything, for molding us, for shaping us, and for being the best dads you could possibly be.  You have made this next generation a better place and we will do everything we can to follow your lead.  We promise.

A Shaky Start

"Just look him in the eyes and give him a firm handshake." - the best and worst advice my father ever gave me.  I started to think about this advice after clicking on "publish post" on my first blog, as it made me feel like I was walking into the craziest interview ever.  I am applying for the job of being a blogger that you will read...and that is a big commitment on your part.  Yesterday was kind of like the first impression, my resume if you will, but how many of you called me in for an actual interview? So as I sit here pondering how many of my readers will hire me as someone that they will invest in, I began to think of all the interviews I have gone on in my lifetime, and it brought me back to my first real interview and my dad's wonderful advice. "Just look him in the eyes and give him a firm handshake."

He must have said it to me a dozen times on the ride to the old Shea Stadium.  I was 19, majoring in television production, and going for an interview to be an intern with the Mets on their Video Production team.  Being a lifelong Met fan, this was a dream opportunity.  My friend Chris took the ride with us, and since he was a few years younger, he probably really cherished my dad's wisdom and advice, "Just look him in the eyes and give him a firm handshake."

Looking back at it, why I would take my dad's interviewing advice made no sense, as he worked for his dad, and then took over the family business where he was his own boss - no interviews, no eyes to look into - no hands to shake.  However, there I was walking into the Diamond Club at Shea, looking at the 86 trophy, catching the eye of Rusty Staub who was just hanging out--not knowing that he would become a fixture in one of the best first interview stories ever...and there I was, all 19 years of experience, just pacing around with sweaty hands repeating to myself, "Just look him in the eyes and give him a firm handshake."

"You must be Joe?"

I turned, the moment I had been practicing for had finally arrived, it was slow motion at this point, I took a powerful step in the interviewer's direction, I stared deep into his eyes holding back my blinks (which for those of you who know me is a very challenging task, raised up my right arm towards his, and did what my dad told me to do: I looked him in the eyes and gave him a firm handshake...

He just didn't shake back.

As I grasped tightly around the interviewer's fingerless right hand, I realized that my shake was not being reciprocated.  What were the chances?  There was no footnote to my father's advice, he never said anything about-in the off chance that the interviewer does not have any fingers, you should do this...or you should do that...there was NO footnote on his advice for a fingerless hand!  Just look in the eyes, shake the hand.  That was all I was given!

My sweaty hand held onto what felt like an elbow for what seemed like longer than the interview itself.  And with no advice given on this particular situation, I did what I thought would be the right thing to do.  I pulled my right hand back, kept strong eye contact (where else was I supposed to look), and leaned in with the left hand for a second hand shake.  Two hand shakes for the price of one.  This one had fingers and shook me back. 

Needless to say, I never worked for the Mets. 


Do you have a funny interview story?  Let's hear other horror stories of the job search process.

I Can't Make Pancakes!

I don't tweet. I'm sure if someone showed me how I would but I refuse to be taught, this same philosophy led me to the inability to make pancakes at the age of thirty-one, instead I just say I don't like pancakes even though I really do enjoy them occasionally.  Instead I go French Toast or maybe Waffles. So no pancakes, no tweeting.

I rarely post on facebook.  My wife does under my name, meaning I sometimes discuss how cute a baby is or how much I love the flowers at a wedding - and even though I do agree in the cuteness of said baby or the validity of yes those are flowers and yes they are at a wedding, I just don't post. I usually plan on doing it then get suckered into a battle on words with friends.

I have written a few first chapters of novels.  They all usually start after I finished reading a good book and end with me googling how to write a novel for dummies.  I stop shortly after the paragraph that discusses how much prep time it takes before you even start writing the novel.  I don't want to prep, I have a character that is the captain of his basketball team yet he also is a rock star, he's funny, has a british accent that sometimes sounds Australian and he needs to solve some type of crime, or win some type of big game, or rob a bank, or travel the world, or... I'm bored and on page four, back to reality TV and eating wheat thins, this author needs a break.

I wrote one screenplay and a few TV pilots.  These have been used for nothing more than an occasional trial to see if any of my friends have potential to become actors.  The screenplay was a good idea, but not funny.  The pilot was funny, but not a good idea.  I wrote some Specs, that's what the people in the Biz write, or so they say on Google when you google, how to break into the TV writing industry NOW with no prep time, or schooling, or any knowledge or skill. 

I wrote many songs.  Some meaningful.  Some memorable.  The most memorable are about fried food and lesbians.  Not in the same song, that would be crazy, I'm not that good.  I have played these songs in three countries, a half a dozen states, and many bars around the island.  None of which booked or payed me.  Just places I have been at where the three key elements all aligned.  1.) I had more than enough Bud Lights.  2.) Someone had a guitar and a microphone.  3.) My friends were there... All of these encounters started the same.  Person with guitar would say no.  I would say please.  Guitar no.  My friends please.  Guitar guy pissed off and realizing that my friends are persistent would reluctantly say yes.  I would play fried food song.  Guitar Guy, now best friends with my friends, would say please play one more.  I would play lesbian song.  Guitar guy happy. Friends happy.  I'm happy.  Gig over. 

But as life happens and bud lights slowly turn into bottled milk these gigs are becoming more spaced out so I needed a new outlet for my random need to fulfill my college minor, English.  (Side Note: My major was Television Production and I am now currently a Math teacher, so my writing like my life, is a little all over the place.)  So here it is, my first Blog.  Or at least the first chapter of my blogging life.  This fad will probably end soon, maybe when someone teaches me how to tweet, or make pancakes, but for now I hope you enjoy what I write, when I write, and I will do my best to include fast food and/or lesbians in each blog since I know that's what you guys are into.

Thanks for Listening to Lumpy!