Short, Back and Sides

This may be the weekend I get a haircut. Maybe. I'm getting tired of feeling like a shaggy dog and it takes me a long time to wash it in the morning, and get all the shampoo out of it, despite how thin my hair has become (too bad it's the only thing that's gotten thin). In the humid weather we've had for the last couple of days, it gets all frizzy and poofy and I look like a badly drawn conclusion for a Scooby Doo cartoon.

I hate haircuts so you can imagine how unkempt I have to feel when even I'm coming around to the notion of getting one, though I'm not exactly racing to get into the chair, if you follow my drift. I used to have to get them every ten days, like clockwork, when I was in the Air Force and I don't miss that at all.

The people with whom and for whom I work don't really notice or if they do, their comments and observations are so stealth, they have thus far eluded my detection. I think they're still processing my long and VERY grey mustache.

Actually, come to think of it, they are handling the mustache rather poorly as I've heard a raft of muttered 'gee, when did you get that?' kind of comments as if I'd ordered a lip caterpillar from one of those As Seen on a TV sites and it had finally been delivered.

IF only I could have afforded the separate postage and handling I could have gotten a second one, in a different color, for free as a special bonus during this TV offer. Push comes to shove, they could have doubled as eyebrows if I ever needed to go undercover as Groucho's stunt double.

Weekend's almost done and there's still plenty of snow on the roof but spring must be here because the bare spots seem to be growing larger. I just keep telling folks I've learned so much my brain expanded and to keep me safe, my head got bigger so, no, I'm not going bald. And no, I don't how to spell minoxidil and keep standing there and I'll spell a few other words, but you won't like any of them.

-bill kenny

Redemption but No Salvation

Among the many attributes my wife possesses in abundance is patience. Not merely for marrying me though even more so for REMAINING married to me, but rather her ability to give you the benefit of the doubt (after almost 34 years, me not so much).

I mentioned some weeks ago we were switching Internet/telephone and television providers. We moved from one vertical combination in restraint of trade (in my opinion) that now owns its own network, NBC, and went with the 21st Century mutant version of The Phone Company.

Charter 6, one eight two six. That was the phone number of the telephone in the kitchen of the house we lived in at 33 Bloomfield Avenue in Somerset, New Jersey. Wow. My first reaction was to be pissed that somebody has put a sidewalk and steps all the way to the end of the lawn. And then I remembered we haven't lived there in forty-four years. I have some photographs, preserve your memories.

Anyway, I'll bet they didn't keep that yellow wall phone in the kitchen either. And it was all the phone we had in the whole house, which, by the time Dad got through paying people to add rooms, was this big, honking single-story ranch. Typical. But that was the phone company then-at some point while I was out of the country we went after them in court and broke them up, though decades later what was left got back together and bought one another out as well as almost anyone else they could put their hands on. And now they are far larger in terms of customer base and influence then when they were Something Evil the Department of Justice had to smash to bits.

The new, old, phone company made me an offer I couldn't understand and still don't. It involved a lot of 'you give us some money and we charge you for stuff but we also give you some plastic in return that's as good as money and that you can use like money except it's not.' Which explains how life insurance policies are sold even though all that seems to be is someone betting you ten bucks a month until you that you don't die. I'll see that bet and double your indemnity.

The first bill, for over three hundred dollars, showed up last week, Thursday, I think. The plastic showed up this Wednesday and Sigrid set about activating the cards so we could use them to pay most of the bill. I have been wondering why The Phone Company just didn't subtract the value of the cards from the bill in the first place but I suspect it involves Horatio Alger, psychology, the American Spirit and the Gunner's Dream. Besides, as Mom used to say, don't ask the question if you can't stand the answer. I was seated and no one played the Star Spangled Banner.

After an eternity on the phone, from the same company now providing us television, where a taped announcement at regular intervals told her that all operators were busy but her call was important (just NOT important enough to hire one more operator to answer itl) the announcement told her they were experiencing unexpected call volume, activate her plastic on line and hung up or rang off (I'm not sure there's a difference. It's like quail and Quayle for the most part).

So she did--having been less than successful in what I assume is a still a sentimental favorite back in the home office, my wife waded into the web waters and in a manner of moments activated the plastic incentives we received to pay about 70% of the bill tendered by the same people who gave us the plastic. And we're wondering how we can be trillions of dollars in debt. I'm blaming the Internet though to be fair I guess we'd have to include the phone and the tube. And plastic, because we never had these problems with cardboard or styrofoam. If there were any more incentives we couldn't afford to go broke.

-bill kenny

I "Like" SWAT Standoffs

It's nice to think of ourselves as the Crown of Creation. Probably a bit conceited, too, and slightly hard to defend or rationalize when cornered I imagine. I have the sinking suspicion, looking at the various lifeforms here on the Big Blue Marble, we'd probably NOT win an open vote on that honor and might finally learn just how big our brains are when various large and angry members of the animal kingdom cracked us wide open like macadamia nuts with legs. Opposable thumbs can take you only so far (usually the city limits).

And then, as tenuous as our place in the food chain is you have a whackjob like Jason Valdez. That, for what it's worth seems to be his good side, the outside. The contents are slightly damaged, judging from his most recent 'look at me' stunt. You can't make this $hit up. With the worldwide number of Facebook accounts having passed 600 Million to start the year, of course Jason is another luckless, lunchless loser who lives out loud.

I blame OJ, not like Dennis Miller does (no one blames The Juice like Dennis Miller does), but for the whole grab your moment in the spotlight kopf durch wand approach to living life. So many of us called shotgun in Al Cowlings' Bronco the line is still there. And nobody could come up with an endorsement deal for AC? If not Ford (what a natural fit!) then in light of the dog's breakfast that the chase made of the California highway system, how about E-Z Pass?

We are sheep, but socialized sheep. Jason supposedly not only got tips on how the standoff was going from Facebook friends, he made SIX new ones while holed up in the Ogden, Utah, Western Colony Hotel (Hey AC! Didja notice how the hotel got a mention on the Standard-Examiner's website. Burns huh?).

And we keep thinking we should be afraid of crazies halfway around the globe who vow to hate with their (but preferably our) dying breath. Instead, the decay is so advanced all you can do is shake your head in dismay and disbelief. That Jason tried, and failed, to cap himself at the end of the escapade is almost parenthetically pathetic.

Be advised, homie, the writers may change the ending before we start filming for Lifetime Movie Network or ilang tulad ng basura. If the shirts at Network like it, we'll set up a series deal. If we could just get Kato Kaelin to 'like' our FB page we'd be in butter, brother.

-bill kenny

Oben Ohne on the Interstate

We had on Tuesday here across Southeastern New England (I think that means we wash our clam chowdah down with mint juleps or perhaps add Jack Daniels to our coffee milk), the most perfect beginning to a summer you can have. It was bright and sunny but with a light breeze, high clouds for most of the day that thickened up towards evening as the humidity started to climb and we all started to look forward to a little rain to take the edge off. Some of us prefer pharmaceuticals.

As I drove home last Thursday I was behind a 1959 Studebaker Hawk Grand Touring Coupe as we headed over the Pequot Bridge into Uncasville. Tuesday afternoon I had the topless car guy leading the way. That probably requires more explanation-not as much as Paul Reiser for The Onion but close.

Someone in a recent vintage Saab (I love this model but am not wild about this one) with the top down, slid in front of me as the two turning lanes became one when we made the left. I have mellowed in my senility about people who drive like A-holes mostly, I suspect, because until recently I was their king. I've now decided there are two types of drivers on the road surrounding me: morons (the ones who drive slower than I do) and maniacs (the ones who drive faster). It's a torture to be the last sane man on the road but I wear it proudly because I got the Mercury Blues.

This guy should have been so lucky. In addition to having the top down on a model by half of all the car companies based in Scandinavia he was wearing a visor with a side order of burnt to a crisp scalp to go on the side. Carlin is right; half a hat is utterly pointless. And wearing any hat in a vehicle with no roof is not even counter-intuitive; it's like wearing a raincoat in the shower.

Off he zipped over the bridge, driving in a manner that gets you a lot of attention (the voice of experience typing here) even when you cannot understand why, past the cut off to the Mohegan Sun, conveniently located near the banks of the Thames so you can save time and throw your wallet into the river and skip the ambiance and anxiety. On any other day, I would have never seen him again-or to put it another way, I'd have seen him in the next five years as often as I remembered seeing him in the previous half decade (none).

But then a couple of miles later on 395 North just before the first of the Norwich exits (you'd think the Rose City was a megalopolis by the number of exits on 395) I caught up with him. I wasn't the first one; a trooper in a battleship gray Crown Vic with the 'No More Calls Please, We Have a Winner!" with the flashing Gum Ball Lights on the roof probably wanted to ask him how he was going about keeping the hair out of his eyes in that convertible what with only wearing half a hat and all, Cyril Connelly.

-bill kenny

A Cool Time in a Hot Town

This is the time of year when we make plans to head to air-conditioned spaces or to visit seashore and lakeside places. Cool is the rule or what's a summer for? Starting tomorrow we can be hometown proud and thrillin' and chillin' all at the same time as The Norwich Skating School at the Norwich Municipal Ice Rink hosts the 21st Annual Ice Skating Institute's District One Championships.

This is the first time this event, which features skaters from across New England, will be held in Connecticut, period, and the Ice Rink is where it will all happen. For fans of competitive ice skating, historically, a significant number of those whom we'll see in the coming days will be competing ultimately for spots on the Olympic Team.

If you've been to The Rink, and judging from the number of skating lessons and hockey leagues that go on there year round, it's already a sizable number, you know what a great facility we have. Now, thanks to the District One Championships, a lot of people who've never been to Norwich will be coming to call.

The days will be long and the competition as fierce as it will be varied. If you're even a casual fan you'll want to call the rink at 860.892.2555 or visit them on line to get a full schedule of events and additional details. Even if you can't tell a forward sizzle from a crossover or you think all hockey revolves around the Stanley Cup (not around here it won't), this is big deal because it's another opportunity for Norwich to put its best foot forward.

And if that foot has a skate or two, so much the better! Organizers expect, at a minimum, twenty teams of competitors on each day of the championships and we're talking long days (now do you see why I told you to call the rink to learn about the schedule?). It's reasonable to anticipate hundreds (if not more) of visitors who could certainly enjoy a chance to see some of what else makes Norwich a great place to live and work (and if you don't think so, why do you live or work here?).

Should we expect to see an influx of new faces in places around town like the Leffingwell House Museum, Howard T. Brown Park or perhaps at The Rose Garden in Mohegan Park? I say we should count on it. Will residents get asked by passing motorists for directions to places to eat or to someplace to spend the nights between competitions? Ayup, and it would be great to have answers that helped assure our guests stayed in the city limits.

You gotta use what you got to get what you want. Amen. And this is as serious an example as I can think of. You know how we always talk about bringing the world to Norwich? Well the District One Championships aren't the whole world, but they're a piece of a bigger world that we've been yearning to be a part of since what seems like the last Ice Age. It's a beauty way to go.

-bill kenny

As Much Shadows as Light

Our Boys of Summer, NY-Penn League Single A baseball players who are farmhands for the Detroit Tigers, arrived last night with a home opener about sixteen hours before the 'official start of summer' today at a tick past a quarter after one in the afternoon. And not a moment too soon.

I love baseball, not merely because it's about the only sport I was ever any good at, because I really wasn't (I just like to think I was) but because there are as many different ways to be a fan as there are fans of baseball. At the pro level, I am a Yankees fan and have been for just about my whole life (so far). However, I will watch anyone play anywhere at anytime.

As I said, the team at Dodd Stadium is not affiliated with the Bronx Bombers but who cares. On a good day, downhill with a following wind, I can almost remember when I was an early twenty-something so I envy the kids, and that's what they are, who've got the world by the umm, tail (in honor of the Tigers). You have to root for them because we, each in our way, have had their dream as our own.

I've reached an age where summers get here faster and leave sooner than they used to. The kids on both sides of the ball trying to make it to The Show seem to get younger as each succeeding summer arrives. I've been watching our daughter, Michelle, who used to help her dynamic though now doddering dad with his backyard garden, together with her mom this summer, take the project over entirely.

I tilled nothing. I planted nothing. I weeded nothing, The trowel, so to speak, has been passed and I thought I'd feel something. And yet, that hole in my heart is about the size you find in a bucket of water after you pull your fist out. I hope, come harvest time, I can enjoy some tomatoes and other homegrown delights, but wonder if they'll taste as great as they always did when I helped. I think I know that answer.

It's as much 'my' garden as A-Rod et al are 'My Yankees' that is, maybe not so much. But on this, the longest day of the year (there's a better phrase, I'm sure, in terms of the division of daylight and darkness) as we get to the top of the seasonal roller coaster and make sure our hands are safely inside and we have our seat belts on, it's important to recall life is still a dark ride, everyday, for all the days that remain. They take just as long if you love what you're doing or are just going through the motions so maybe we should pretend we, too, have major league delusions and that everyone has decided since it's so nice, let's play two.
-bill kenny

I Watch the Patchwork Farms' Slow Fade into the Ocean's Arms

I'm glad I'm not a bird. I was watching some starlings yesterday wander the rock wall on the side of our house scanning the ground for anything that might have been washed closer to the surface in the last few days from all the rain. Another bird, I have no idea what kind, was in the driveway, drinking from a puddle. Ewww!

On the other hand, they might well look at the listing of this week's Norwich meetings and cough up that half a worm they were saving for the hatchling back in the nest (which is what they were doing in the first place; and pooping on cars out in the street). I find one of those two only vaguely appealing and let's not waste anytime guessing which, okay?

This is normally the night for the second regular monthly meeting of the City Council but that has been cancelled with the next regular meeting on the first Tuesday of July, the day after Independence Day.

The really good news in the shift of the Council meeting is we can all consider attending the home opener of the CT Tigers at Dodd Stadium starting at 7:05, against the defending NY-Penn League champions, Tri-City Valley Cats. A home team needs a home team crowd.

Tuesday afternoon at three-thirty in their conference room of the Norwich Public Schools' offices at 90 Town Street, it's a regular meeting of the Norwich Public Schools' Policy Committee. If you wanted to know what's been worked on in recent sessions or the agenda for this meeting, you could go here, but you'd be Sorely Out of Luck.

At five-thirty, it's a regular meeting of the Norwich Free Academy Board of Trustees in the Latham Science Center. Here's their revised meeting agenda.

At six, in Room 319 of City Hall, it's a regular meeting of the Personnel and Pension Board.

And at seven, next door in the basement conference room of the Planning Department at 23 Union Street, it's a regular meeting of the Commission on the City Plan. While the cessation of the Byron Brook development project has been getting a lot of ink in recent days, there's a lot more on the Commission's plate Tuesday evening and you shouldn't need me to point out that it's never eaten as hot as it's served.

Wednesday afternoon at three-thirty in the Central Office conference room at 90 Town Street, it's a regular meeting of the Norwich Public Schools' Building and Space Committee ('one small auditorium for Kelly Middle School, one major capital improvements project for mankind' though I do have to wonder if perfection isn't the enemy of good enough), not that you'll find either minutes or agenda here on the schools' website (a youngster matching the description of someone named 'Waldo' was located).

The special Board of Education meeting at four in the Central Office is an expulsion hearing and, aside from the opening and closing, is closed to the public as it well should be.

At six, in the Planning Department Conference room at 23 Union Street is a regular meeting of Reid & Hughes Committee, which is followed at six-thirty by a meeting of the 751 North Main Street Committee, both of which are part of a topic we'll all address more in the coming weeks and months, brownfields remediation and rehabilitation, because we don't have much choice since we don't have much land for development.

And at seven, in their meeting room on the New London Turnpike, it's a regular meeting of the Norwich Golf Course Authority, whose May minute meetings are here.

Thursday morning at 7:30 in the 77 Main Street offices of the Norwich Community Development Corporation (NCDC), it's a regular meeting of the NCDC Board of Directors. Ask for copies of both the May meeting minutes and June meeting agenda with a note to admin@askncdc.com; Shelley has moved on but other folks are checking that mail and will respond.

And Saturday morning, it's the next installment of the One City Forum, starting at nine in the Norwich Public Utilities' offices at 16 Golden Street, one of the best examples of reuse of "old buildings" in clever new ways I can think of. You'd think so, too, if you came to a meeting there as there's always room for one more and as many great ideas as you'd like to share. And while I'm quick to concede we can't do everything, we can each do something and that time is now.

-bill kenny