Happy Turkey Day!

Tho I live in New Paltz, I still have a foot Manhattan, thanks to my mom's apartment, and we spent a wonderful Thanksgiving there.

We drove down Wednesday morning after meeting with Emmett's teacher for a great report on our son. We'd planned a busy day, managing to squeeze in two grandmothers, two haircuts (for the girls), a mile-long unicycle ride for me and Emmett, and three tutoring students -- and that was just the first four hours. By 5 pm, the crowds around 81st St. were beginning to get pretty thick, and by that point, the police had begun keeping out people who couldn't claim to live (or be visiting someone) on my mom's block. This basically means that the police are there to keep out the tourists, since New Yorkers know that a simple lie will get them that much closer to a giant Kermit the Frog.

We learned two years ago to avoid Columbus Avenue like the plague. For about 7 hours, crowds mill about there in density matched only by the people who swarm off tourist buses to stand outside of the Today Show with their signs promoting their high school basketball team back in Idaho. I didn't realize at the time, but what happened is that the police department decided to turn Columbus Avenue from 77th to 82nd Streets into a huge cattle drive. Once you're in the slow-moving stampede, you really can't get out until you get to the other side. I accidentally got caught up in this back in 2005 while riding (and eventually pushing) my 36" unicycle and carrying some groceries that Shirra had asked me to pick up on the way home; the 10-block trip took me about a half-hour. This year, we knew enough to take Amsterdam Avenue when we were walking down to a friend's party, and the experience was much more pleasant.

The kids had fun watching the balloons being inflated. I learned recently that Macy*s has had to stockpile helium because of a worldwide shortage of the stuff (driving prices higher and higher, as tho they, too, were filled with helium). The kids didn't care too much about this lesson in economics but were more interested in which characters were on display and how big they were. Because I was working, Shirra took the kids outside for some cute snaps as they watched the balloons being inflated. On Thanksgiving morning, she and my mom took them outside to watch the inflatable cavalcade disappear around the corner as the parade began.

By noon, the remnants of the balloons had all but vanished, and order -- and parking -- were restored to my mom's block. Emmet and I fetched the car from a mile away, again necessitating a fun ride on our unicycles, and then rode over to Zabar's and back for some humidifiers. Four hours later, we sat down to our Thanksgiving meal with our parents, my brother and his wife, and my mom's best friend. Maeve was the only member of my little family who still eats meat, and apparently she enjoyed the turkey, and the rest of us enjoyed all of the fixings. The meal had been delivered by Fresh Direct, an outfit that has brought meals (or groceries) to New Yorkers for the past few years and is one of the few things that Shirra genuinely misses about Manhattan.

Shirra left for New Paltz on a bus that evening in order to be at her store for a huge shopping day on Friday, and the kids and I arrived home by 3pm. It was a fun and easy holiday for everyone. Phew. Now we have Hanukah to look forward to -- I hope it comes off as well.

The Knitting Store is Open!

Knit and Be Happy has officially opened for business! The grand opening is slated for December 1, but the petit opening this past Saturday went off without a hitch or a dropped stitch.

Shirra has hired two (now three) helpers for the store, and I got to meet all of them. Nancy, a brilliant scientist who is waiting for her masters program in design to begin, is one of those funky women who reminds me of a younger Shirra. She's a knitting wiz, and she's also into climbing and sci-fi. She has a great eye for setting up shop and helped create the initial look of the store. Susie is Shirra's mom away from mom, a lovely woman who made sure that Shirra was getting enough to eat when she was setting up the store a few days ago. Cricket is a young woman with unbridled enthusiasm and a knack for reading 'Help Wanted' signs before they're even posted. She's another inveterate knitter with lots of cool ideas for the store.

Speaking of which, Shirra and I had already brainstormed just before the store was open for business, and we came up with some good ideas:

1. Frequent buyer program: Shirra will keep track of purchases and will award a $15 store credit when someone spends a total of $150.
2. Gift certificates! With the holidays coming, these are a great idea that neither of us came up with (as obvious as it seems now). Luckily a man came in asking to buy a GC for his wife, thereby launching the program by himself.
3. Wall of Extreme Knitting: Shirra will put up people's photos of themselves engaged in acts of extreme knitting. Cricket has already volunteered to get a shot of herself knitting while rock-climbing, and Shirra has a great photo of herself knitting while riding a unicycle.
4. Movie nights. Keep checking back here, and keep checking her blog!
5. Men's Night. There is a book called "Knitting with Balls" for men. Now I just need to learn to knit....
6. After-school programs.

So far the response to her store has been excellent, and it looks like she's actually going to have to be open six days a week rather than five. The petit opening was a great idea because it's letting her see what's working ... and what's not. She learned today that she has to fix some problems with her Verizon hookup so that she can process credit cards, and there are a few other minor glitches that she's busy correcting. She also needs to get a sign to hang up so that her store is more visible from Main Street.

Emmett has been really sweet, handing out flyers to passers-by. He takes after me, always wanting to work retail. So does Fiona, for that matter: She made an announcement at her school about her mom's new shop. And I put up a notice about the shop at Maeve's preschool, so she's doing her share, too.

Once again, here are the pertinents:
Knit and Be Happy
8 N. Front St
New Paltz, NY 12561
845.255.5333
11-6 everyday except Tuesday; hours subject to be extended!

Parking Ticket!

I got my first parking ticket in the Noop this week. I had parked outside my wife's store, helping her paint before the 'soft opening' this Saturday, and I got carried away with all the fun of putting on primer. When I finally went back to the car, more time had elapsed than I'd expected. The meter time was flashing 00:00 and, I gamely peeked at the windshield, not expecting to find anything orange other than some fall leaves. But there, under the windshield wiper, was a small rectangle that I'd only seen on other people's cars -- a ticket!

One of the lovely things about New Paltz and most of the neighboring towns is the 'cute' cost of the tickets. Whereas tickets in Manhattan can be as high as $110 for a similar expense, in our new hometown, they're only ten smackers. I can handle that.

Still, I felt like a bit of a dope considering how plentiful parking is in the area near her store. I could easily have found a spot on Church St. To make matters (ok, me) stupider, I could also have run outside 15 minutes earlier with a quarter that would have stood me in good stead for an hour. Yes, city mice, a quarter in New Paltz gets you a whole hour. In Manhattan, it usually only gets you 10 minutes!

Peaceful Drivers

I've often used this forum to discuss the differences between New Paltz and New York. Now I've discovered a difference between New Paltz and some local towns. It has to do with waving at drivers.

One Finger
We all know that when drivers let you into drive in front of them, you're supposed to wave to show that you appreciate their courtesy. Since there is little such kindness in NYC, it often happens that you have to be aggressive, edging in front of the next car so that they're forced to let you in. In that case, I still give a friendly (ok, sarcastic) wave, but I often get a one-finger wave in return.

Five Fingers
In up-city New York, drivers are much more courteous. I'm usually let into the queue after only a short wait, and I usually let people into the queue whenever I see them waiting. Invariably I get the full-hand wave and a smile. That's like a visual thank-you. But New Paltz is taking that one step farther.

Two Fingers
In the Noop this morning, I was on my way back from casting my vote when I spotted a car waiting to turn into my lane. I let him enter, and he smiled and gave me the peace sign. I like that. It's even cooler than the wave. It's a visual way of saying thank you and go in peace. I'm going to start doing that.

Peace out.

Knitting Store in Knew Paltz

OK, New Paltz. Get ready for your knitting store!

Shirra is hoping to have a 'soft' opening this Thursday. Everyone's invited. The 'grand' opening is a few weeks off. Everyone is invited to that, too (we'll keep you posted).

To check if she's open, call (845) 255-5333. Her tentative sked is: Everyday but Tues and Weds, 11-6.

I think that's correct. She also has a website for her store, Knit and Be Happy. Check out my links.

Enjoy!

UPDATE: She is open for business! And she's added a day: She's now open everyday but Tuesdays, 11-6 (and she often opens before 11). Come on by!

Awards Night at Pine Ridge Dude Ranch

Fiona had an equestrian awards night at the Pine Ridge Dude Ranch on Sunday, sponsored by her stable, Lucky C. It was a fun affair, with good food, fun things for the kids and parents to do, and a lovely dinner following the fast presentation of the awards. Fiona was 'reserve champion' for her division, so she got a huge ribbon and chose a Lucky C bag as a prize. After the grub, we headed down the stairs to their disco, where the kids danced to "Cotton-Eye Joe" and other fun tunes, and everyone had a ball. I definitely recommend this place for a fun evening, and I understand that people have a nice time staying there for weekends and longer.

Hike-a to the Ike-a

Shirra's store came with a few included items, like a counter for her cash register, but we've had to provide for pretty much everything else. So today we took a that long but necessary trip to Ikea.

To make matters worse, the nearer of the two Ikeas (both in New Jersey) was out of some of the shelving units that she wanted. Ikea Paramus also didn't have a bunk bed that we'd planned to get for our house, but Ikea Elizabeth did. Luckily Maeve fell asleep for the entire ride there, so we got to listen to a funny podcast of "This American Life." That was pretty much our only entertainment for the next six hours. It didn't help that we had to drive there thru pouring rain.

Once there, we knew exactly what we wanted, but because Ikea Elizabeth is smaller than its Paramus counterpart, we were slowed down by nearly an hour. At this Ikea, you have to place orders for their warehouse for certain items, and then those items are summoned forth from the unknown depths of the store. We were further delayed because we'd promised to take Maeve to the Ball Pit, but at least she got to have some fun at the store, and she was quite relaxed for the trip home, having gotten some exercise at the store.

The next step was to pack up the car, which was made more challenging by the fact that we'd forgotten to empty the car of certain items, like Emmett's unnecessary car seat and a boxful of books that Shirra was planning to take to the library at some point. In the end, it just made for a better photo. Had any of the boxes been an inch longer, it's doubtful we'd have been able to fit them into the minivan; we'd have had to place them on top of the car instead, something I was really glad we avoided. Back in New Paltz, we unloaded the boxes and pretty much had to go right into get-ready-for-bed mode. It doesn't feel like I've had a Saturday. Someone owes me a Saturday!

Opening a Store in New Paltz

Shirra is opening a knitting store in a week!

LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION
First there was getting a store. Initially Shirra looked at the place next to the bookstore on Chuch Street. That's a great location, but the shop is literally twice as large (and about twice the price) as what she needed, so she decided to look into the former antique store just down the block. It's a great spot that just needed a little touching up. The kids made signs to announce the impending opening.

MOLD, MOLD, MOLD
One of the touch-ups involved dealing with mold in the store. We still don't know the source of the water, but her landlord was great about trying to deal with the situation, volunteering to rip out the old (and stained) ceiling tiles and to take other measures. At this point, it appears that the mold has been taken care of, tho there may still be moisture. We'll see how it goes in the next few days.

YARN, YARN, YARN
Shirra had to place a few orders, naturally, and our house is now crammed with about 6 cubic yards of wool and a few wicker chairs that she found locally. When the moisture problem is under control, we'll move those things in, but for the last few days we've been living the old joke about the man who tells the rabbi that his house is too cramped and noisy and the rabbi tells him to bring in the chickens. Right now we're past the chickens and goats and are about to invite in the horse. Still, the kids and I don't mind -- we've lived like this before.

PINS and NEEDLES
Well, she really doesn't need pins (this isn't a quilting store), but she is about to order needles as well as some tchotchkes. Let's hope those don't have to stay in our house, too. Those might be the horse. I have a feeling that when we can finally move everything out of our house, it'll be just as the good rabbi said: really spacious.

The name of her store: Knit and Be Happy

Diversity Day in the Noop

Today was Diversity Day in New Paltz, so naturally Emmett and Maeve were wearing hula skirts and cut-out cardboard stars while shouting lines from a Doctor Seuss book.

The hula skirts were a close approximation of the Sneetch fur, but the director/costumer/stage manager Rachel had correctly surmised that the audience would not pick nits about any aspect of the production. The actors ranged in age from 3 (Maeve) to 11 (one of Fiona's classmates from last year), and amazingly, some of the kids had actually studied their lines ahead of time. More impressive still was that the cast actually listened to me when I suggested during our 'dress rehearsal' that they speak loudly and slowly.

The audience seemed miniscule until just moments till the proverbial curtain went up, but all of a sudden there were a hundred spectators. The narrator, older brother of one of Maeve's classmates, did a superb job, enunciating loud and clear and, for a reason I have yet to learn, using a mid-Atlantic accent he does not normally speak with.

Still, my two had their most fun at the Bouncy Castle, the inflatable tent that, if positioned correctly in Manhattan, would be a $2 million studio in today's market. The three of us -- Fiona and Shirra were at a sheep & wool show, not buying some rabbits -- watched the inflation and Maeve and Emmett, always courageous in the face of strangers if those strangers have stuff they want, asked if they could start bouncing even tho the tent wasn't officially (who are these officials?) supposed to be open for over an hour. Instead, they were greenlighted for the castle, moments later a few other kids joined in the fun. All together I'd estimate that they bounced for over 40 minutes, explaining why Maeve fell asleep so easily when it was nap time an hour later.

I should point out that there was more to Diversity Day than Sneetches and an inflated rubber room. All around the 'stage' were tables featuring local groups who represented many aspects of faith and philosophy. I spoke with a representative from the Ulster County Humanists who was seated between a gang of Pagans and a coterie of bible thumpers. Not far away was an ROTC table situated near a group asking for Bush's impeachment. It was lovely to see everyone getting along so well, tho not surprising for New Paltz. We did have our reasons for moving here, after all, and diversity was one of them.

New Post "Up"

Check out my most recent NPFD blog to read all about fire prevention week and how to scare large numbers of toddlers.

Nose Updates

I have some updates that you might enjoy at my other blog. Click here if you'd like to find out more (disgusting) information about my nose.

Deviated Septum

"How to Move to New Paltz" will not be seen tonight because I'm recovering from surgery. It wasn't truly New Paltz-related, but I did write about it on my unicycle blog as well as on my Voice of Society Man blog.

One Nice Thing about Manhattan

Ok, I can live without the smog and noise, but I do enjoy seeing celebreties.

On Saturday, I was waiting for Shirra to bring the kids down the block to where I had parked when I spotted Laurie Berkner. Laurie is perhaps the most popular singer of children's music these days, judged by her connection with cable TV's Noggin, where she's seen in various capacities thruout the day. As it happens, we knew her when: Back in 2000, she performed at Fiona's 4th birthday, and in the next two years, she played at two more parties; the final one she did as a favor, coming out to Brooklyn for what would be her last private gig of the sort. We've been big Laurie fans, so Maeve has gotten to enjoy her music even without getting to see her live... until Saturday. While I reintroduced myself to Laurie and her bandmate Susie, Shirra and the kids appeared. Maeve's reaction was to hold her hands in front of her huge grin, much as Shirra did years ago when she met her favorite baseball player, Dave Winfield, on our 1990 trip to see the Chicago White Sox at old Comiskey Park. Winfield chatted with us for a bit and then posed for a picture with his arm around Shirra. Her only word for about 90 minutes was 'Omigod.' Maeve managed to say hello and chat amiably despite her obvious glee.


Yesterday I was shopping for some cycling stuff in advance of the unicycle race I'm participating next summer. While in the store, I noticed Matthew Broderick enter with a very nice bike that he needed to drop off for a friend. We got to chatting -- about my geared unicycle and other unicycle-related things -- and ended up talking for about 20-30 minutes. It was nice to see what a down-to-earth guy he is, and I'm sure he appreciated my relative normalcy; that is, I didn't ask for an autograph or any other nod to his fame. I'm like that, in part, because of growing up in a city inhabited and visited by so many superluminaries. It's still fun to spot -- or chat with -- a famous person, but after awhile, you get the feeling that it's an everyday occurrence.


I've always joked about the fact that people stare at me when I unicycle down the street, and that goes for celebs. So when I've crossed paths with someone famous, I have always joked not that I saw so-and-so but that so-and-so saw ME. The list of stars who have seen me unicycle includes David Bowie and Iman, Mick Jagger, the late Tony Randal (who used to live on my mom's block), Billy Baldwin and Chyna Phillips (who used to live in my mom's building), and a few others. Oh, and Bill Clinton (in Martha's Vineyard). I like to think that they go home to their significant others and say, "You'll never guess ...."

Voice of Society Man

I have never admitted this to anyone but my wife, my children, and some of my closest friends, but it's time I went public with it: I have an alter ego. His name is Voice of Society Man. This alter ego can't fly or stop speeding bullets, but he does have the ability to butt into other people's business in a single bound. Voice of Society Man is everyone's nagging grandmother, pesky uncle, and nosy neighbor who is always right. People say that it takes a village to raise a child, but people no longer live near their relatives and that 'village' has nearly disappeared. Voice of Society Man is a traveling village.

Superman originated on Krypton, sent to Earth before the fiery explosion of his home planet. Voice of Society Man's origins are murkier and not as exciting. He was born during a crowded subway ride in Manhattan when I got tired of staring at the inseams of young men whose testicles apparently needed their own seat. His first words were "Excuse me" as he indicated one of the spots beside the young man. This clever ploy worked, and soon I had a seat next to a dude who had to squeeze his entire crotch into only two seats. It was a small victory, but it propelled me to bolder moves. I realized that simply by speaking up where no one else dared, I could perhaps effect a small change in my surroundings. Voice of Society Man was born.

In truth, VoS Man has to do more than ask for a seat or be the first to clap after the lousy piano playing of a cousin. He has to speak up for what is right (or at least against what is wrong). In fact, his main goal is to Teach Someone a Lesson so that the offender won't repeat the offense. But my alter ego's actions require powers beyond speech. Let's say that someone is smoking in a playground. VoS Man must first use his keen sense of smell to detect the offending smoke. Next, he has to be aware of local laws; if unsure, he will consult the sign at the entrance to the playground. Finally, VoS Man has to be aware of potential disasters that could arise from informing members of the general public of their shortcomings, so in the case of the playground smoker, he uses his keen sense of tact to deftly announce the regulations regarding smoking in playgrounds.

When confronting members of the public, there are two approaches that Voice of Society Man can use:

1. TACT
VoS Man can use disarming tactics, such as saying, "It's so annoying that Big Brother has made all these rules about smoking, isn't it? Gosh, it must be hard knowing where you can smoke. Anyhoo, my children all have lung cancer, so could you, um, kindly put out that cigaret after taking one more puff for good luck? Thank you so much for your sacrifice."

2. SNARK
When VoS Man senses a need for sarcasm, he first disarms his foe with a confusing opening statement: "Ya know, when I first joined the Scouts, my Scoutmaster told me that I'd have to stop farting in other people's faces. I bet it's like that with smoking. But every once in awhile I slip up. I won't mind if you smoke if you'll let me fart in your face."

It is perhaps clear that Voice of Society Man must also rely from time to time on one other skill: his highly developed sense of running away fast

Without further ado, I present

The Numerous and Varied Adventures of....

Voice of Society Man!

Larry David at the Carousel

If you do only one historic thing when in Martha's Vineyard, ride the carousel in Oak Bluffs. If you do only one histrionic thing in Martha's Vineyard, get into a fight about it.

One week ago, I spotted Larry David walking past the carousel. Undoubtedly he was there not for the ride but for the annual Fireworks night. Larry David, creator of Seinfeld, is now the star of his own HBO show about his own curmugeonly self. This afternoon, while biding time before our ferry home, I got involved in the type of kerfuffle that Larry David apparently experiences on a daily basis.

The line at the carousel wasn't long, but the teenagers who run it are not interested in expediency. They don't try to fill empty seats on the ride, so the line sometimes clogs up with large groups who want to ride together. The result was that we were the second group of four to enter the carousel when our turn came. The first group all took seats on the far end, leaving a nice collection of four horses right in front of us. The big kids grabbed adjacent mares, and Shirra and I went about getting seated behind them. First, however, Shirra had to fasten the strap on Maeve's inside horse, so I held the outside horse to indicate that it was 'taken.' Suddenly a large blond girl of about 9 began to mount this horse, so I explained that I was saving it, indicating with a gesture that my family was all sitting together. She persisted a moment before I asked her again to find a different horse. The next thing I knew, she was sobbing like a 4-year-old and pointing at me.

Her father and mother came over, asking why I'd made her get off the horse. I tried to explain my side of the matter, but clearly it was no use; Blondie kept bawling until I told her that she was far to old for whingeing, at which point she suddenly stopped. Her parents, however, continued to speak forcefully about my rude behaviour (they were British). I repeated my sweeping hand gesture to no avail, and father (or 'fahthuh') told me that he was going to report me to the pimply staff, which had the same effect on me as when Philip told me that he had chosen a new best friend in fifth grade. After the useless teenagers conferred with each other and then with me, the five-minute-long ride finally started, approximately five minutes after it should have. The reformed blubberer was put at the head of the line for the following ride, and her parents continued to glare.

Just as the ride began, a second woman standing nearby chastised me, saying that she'd seen the whole thing. I didn't mind that she had stated her opinion, but I was peeved when the ride ended to discover that she may have been biased: She was Blondie's aunt. We would have had nothing more to do with her had it not been for the fact that Fiona had managed to grab the bronze ring -- the prominent feature of this carousel ride -- entitling her a free ride. The rest of us filed off the carousel, Blondie ran to her favourite horse, and we stood by, waiting for Fiona while Aunt Snaggletooth spoke in a stage whisper to Mum about white trash, people these days, and Fiona's ring-grabbing technique. It was at this point that I decided to have a chat with her, but before we had said much to each other, Uncle Halitosis came between us and told me to get out of his wife's face. I pointed out that she and I were having a conversation and that he was the one who was, in actual fact, in his wife's face. With strong hints of sarcasm, he acknowledged how clever I was (a point that Brits always make when confronted with logic), but Aunt Snaggletooth decided that this was looking like an affair for the police and asked a bored teenager selling popcorn to make the call (which he promptly ignored). I am sure the cops would have gotten involved had I phrased my next few arguments to Uncle Hal correctly, but I decided to avoid having to withstand a punch from him just to have him arrested. It would have been a wonderful bout of irony: How often is it that a wife calls the police to have her husband arrested for hitting a stranger, I wondered.

Ironically, despite the Aunt's conviction that we were exhibiting incivility, it was Blubbering Blondie's papa who verged past blue into somewhat violet prose when he dropped an F bomb on Shirra. She only told me about this later, which was lucky because I have a feeling that if I'd known about this during my conversation with Uncle Hal, I would have definitely gotten myself punched in order to get him arrested. I would only have had to ask myself, "What would Larry do?"

This may sound like grandstanding, but there is precedent. On a long train train ride in Australia 18 years ago, I took a drunk, older man to task for smoking in our non-smoking car. After he flicked his lit cigaret at me and then lunged at me when I continued to chastise him, I got him kicked off the train. We made an unscheduled stop, dropped off the old coot, and continued. I found out later that the train only goes thru that town once a week. So don't mess with me! Grrr.