Dear Reality, You Win

Happy Birthday, Abraham Lincoln. So sad the nation of which you were President and for which you gave your life has a ‘let’s make this holiday stuff convenient’ policy that rolls yours and George Washington’s birth anniversaries onto a day that’s neither of yours to honor all Presidents including  many of whom we do not know. To you of the 2012 Class of William Henry Harrison High School in Tippecanoe County, West Lafayette, Indiana, Salute!  Your home room assembly Friday lasted nearly as long as Bill’s term of office. Sic transit  Gloria.

Elsewhere, on a small planet in a minor galaxy around a dying star…When I have a fair amount of luck and am heading down a slope with a tailwind, I can on occasion create a moment of whimsy and/or lightheartedness that might charitably be regarded as funny. Meanwhile, beyond the confines of my keyboard, nature and the real world run riot and when they intersect, Andrew Toothman ensues.

I know-this is the kind of story that less than a thousand words does not do justice. Heck with that! TEN thousand words barely break the surface. Where to begin: What brand of peanut butter? Smooth or crunchy? “Completely covered.” Oh, really, do tell! The Hershey’s and Toblerone folks are racing to make flight connections and assemble endorsement packages. The Godiva and Lindt combines are circling one another suspiciously, eyes glazed with mistrust and what seems to be a light frosting.   

I’m thinking there’s a shoe sponsorship arrangement in Andy’s future, perhaps on the Style Channel, but I’m wondering if he’s not better off sticking to slip-ons, and being shot from the waist up.  If it’s of any help, I did find his opening act if he takes the show on the road. Skippy! You got some ‘splainin’ to do.   

-bill kenny

The Effective Range of an Excuse is Less than a Meter

A week from tomorrow, out where the buffalo roam and seldom is heard a discouraging word, the Arizona Diamondbacks' pitchers and catchers report for the opening of Spring Training 2012. Huzzah and Alleluia.

As you must know, I am a Yankees fan-always have been and always will be. But more than that I love the game of baseball (and accept the business which is often off putting) so, by necessity, I respect everyone who plays the game at the professional level no matter how much of a horse's behind they are at any point on or off the field. Even (former) Red Sox players. But sometimes only just barely....

I came across this in our local newspaper, but it's an AP story, "Former Red Sox Pitcher Boyd Says He Used Cocaine." I'm reaching a point here in my advancing antiquity here on this orb that sometimes crap is just crap and this story and the self-pitying whine of a never-was just get my knickers in a knot. Dennis "Oil Can" Boyd had a ten year career as a major-league pitcher where, by his own recollection, he pitched while on cocaine in every baseball stadium in the major leagues, was threatened with rehab (seemingly by one or more of his own teammates) but never went, and was up until four or five in the morning on game days snorting everything but the white median line on the Mass Turnpike, finishing with 78-77 won/lost record and 4.04 earned run average.

By his own calculations, "... if I had went to bed, I would have won 150 ballgames." But he didn't and so he didn't. Instead of looking in the mirror and better seeing the architect for the premature demise of his career, Oil Can sees a victim of, as he puts it, "bigotry" adding in a masterful glimpse of the obvious "... the game carries a lot of bigotry."

I know the feeling. If my mother had married a Kennedy I'd be living in the White House, but she didn't so I'm not. And that's why I have mommy issues. Please, Dennis, if you can't shut up would you please grow up? My favorite piece of the interview is: "If I wasn't outspoken and so-called 'a proud, proud black man' maybe I would have got empathy and sympathy like other ballplayers got that I didn't get; like a Darryl Strawberry or Dwight Gooden, Steve Howe...."

Steve Howe was called many things in his career, but I suspect 'proud, black man' wasn't among them. Yep, one of these things is NOT like the other. Dennis, thanks for reminding all of us that it's never too late to play the race card, no matter how ineptly or inappropriately. You might want to add a chapter in your forthcoming book, "They Call Me Oil Can" on the significance of the difference between colorblind and snowblind. Right after you learn it.
-bill kenny       

Pictures and Postcards

Strange days indeed. I love my smartphone and use it in a variety of ways everyday, least often as a phone. Whatever I pay for dial tone, if I do, is too much. I rarely make actual telephone calls, but, rather, use text messaging. Nearly all the calls I receive are from telemarketers with that credit card balance hustle where you press one to speak to a human being (and thus sidestep the National Do Not Call Registry, since, technically you called them, if it please the court of public opinion). I've always dreamed of being incredibly mean to one of their minions when they launch their sales pitch but it never works out that way.

I love the camera, both the still as well as video, built into the phone. The still camera in the smartphone is far superior to the just-a-still-camera-and-nothing-else I use at my work. The problem with it is the same old song: the operator behind the eye piece. I think we need some constants in the universe and my inability to take pictures has become one of them.

But, speaking of constants, we're about to have one less as Eastman Kodak, already taking on water in a sea of economic red ink, announced yesterday they're getting out of  the camera business, all of the camera business. The Brave New World has not been kind to Kodak and it's very probable they have far more yesterdays than tomorrows in terms of economic viability.

I'm not suggesting cause and effect but I do confess to feeling a little guilty when I glance at my smartphone quietly on charge as I type this. I wonder what will disappear next from our collective consciousness and then from our memories as easily as it vanished from our shelves. Another past we've been passed out of and a shared reference of generations for generations that becomes a Trivial Pursuit answer even as that gets replaced by Angry Birds. Almost can't wait to see who taps Paul Simon on the shoulder, tells him to cap the camera and call it a day.  
-bill kenny

It's Not What We Would Choose to Do

Reading world history books has been a hobby of mine possibly from the day (as a child) I asked our mother if she had been around for 'the War Between the Blue and Gray.' Somehow, even then, I knew instinctively to not inquire of our father.

I've often been frustrated by how frequently in this country we seem to have no knowledge of, and little interest in, our own history and we are a relatively speaking young country so it's not like there's five thousand years of dynastic rule to ponder, as they have in China. Still we have the same sense of history as a cat.

In my lifetime I've seen the final demarcation in terms of historical epochs, digital and pre-digital. Everything is possible in the digital era to include things that aren't real (how I tend to understand virtual reality). Meanwhile poster child of the pre-digital era, I can still easily remember rotary dial phones, three over the air television stations, dad adjusting the rabbit ears to get the game just right and afternoon editions of hometown newspapers.

I can also remember the neighbor up the street talking about World War II (us kids knew all about that one from the TV show, Combat, with Vic Morrow and Rick Jason only to find out later we didn't know sh--anything). I think we knew instinctively, because of the "II," there was a "I" floating around and I've read enough biographies of Woodrow Wilson to sense the enormity of the carnage of The War to End All Wars, that didn't but helped create a world of animus that has survived to this day.

Someone not mentioned, at least not until she died Tuesday as (presumably) the last person to have served in the military, in anyone's military, during World War I, was Florence Green. She wasn't a President or a Prime Minister, an Admiral or a General, but without her and literally tens of millions of others just like her, none of the wars we wage against one another could be fought. She was 111 years of age.

You might imagine that with so many countries worth dying for, at least a similar number could also be worth living for, and yet, the monuments and medals suggest this thought rarely occurs. Haven't you heard it's a battle of words, the poster bearer cried. Listen son, said the man with the gun, there's room for you inside.
-bill kenny

Time to Do

I walked along the Heritage Trail through the Norwich Harbor Sunday afternoon. The sky was so clear and blue you could get lost staring into it and the water in the Norwich Harbor, at the confluence of  the Shetucket, Thames and Yantic Rivers, reflected the sky so perfectly it was difficult when looking at the horizon to know where one ended and the other began.

I visited with some fishermen, to include a pair casting for striped bass, "stripers" as anglers call them. Feeling myself a fisherman's friend, though I had no sore throat, I continued through downtown, behind a trio of women who had exited the Harp and Dragon and made their way towards Billy Wilson's, staking an early claim, no doubt, to great seats near the big screen for Sunday's Super Bowl. I didn't have the heart to tell them conventional wisdom holds that 'nobody goes into downtown Norwich anymore', especially since they did. Come to think of it, me, too.

Crossing where Broadway and Union meet, where City Hall shares the intersection with the original Otis Library, flanked by the spires of two churches, I saw the title for that morning's sermon from which I might have greatly benefited (and may not have been alone in that regard) "Time To Do."

God and I have an agreement to see other people but I do like the sentiment and would suggest we had two examples of it in these parts last week and have two more chances in the next week to talk the talk and walk the walk.

Last Wednesday evening, Greeneville and Taftville neighbors (but mostly Greeneville) sat together to think about what they like about where they live and to say aloud in front of one another what needs to be improved or preserved and why. The evening was part of a series of open houses to solicit ideas and to stimulate thinking on revisions and improvements for the city's Plan of Conservation and Development (POCD), a blueprint of sorts, for Norwich Next, to which we can all contribute, and from which we will all benefit.

A week from tonight at seven, in the community room of The Dime Savings Bank at 292 Salem Turnpike (Route 82), is a chance for a Westside Story of sorts as residents and neighbors from across Norwich, but most especially the Westside, to make their voices heard on the POCD. If you've ever wondered if "they" are listening, try not being silent for a change and learn what happens.

Sometimes actions speak louder than words, like last Saturday when The Backus Federation of Nurses joined with the United Way at Stop and Shop, for a collection to help restock the shelves of the St. Vincent de Paul Place food pantry. Temperatures were chilly but hearts were warm and contributions were generous. It says a lot that two organizations that help everyone everyday across our community made the time and found the energy to assist the soup kitchen and the many people whom they serve.

If that inspires you to be a part of the difference, then join the One City Forum this Saturday at nine in the Greeneville Fire Station. I could tell you we are going to have pie, but that's probably not true (and we're not having pony rides either, not that I'd tell you if we were) but we're working our way towards better defining, in quantity and quality, what we want Norwich to be and we still need your help. We've waited a long time to get to this point, to the moment when it's time to do. See you there.
-bill kenny  

Soup to Nuts Bowl

I’m not a fan of American football.  When I was young enough to be able to play it, I wasn’t very good at it and now I’m old and brittle and don’t see a great deal to relate to in watching it. In theory the Super Bowl is different because, well, because it’s the Super Bowl, dadgumit!

I would have watched this year, what with living in New England and having grown up in the state the Giants should call home, New Jersey. When did East Rutherford become the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim? The Maras and Steve Tisch give us a hard time about changing the name they can load up their Jimmy Hoffa body bags, get on the PATH trains and go back to Journal Square.

Like I said, I was gonna watch except Cloo had a House Marathon and there’s a few episodes I hadn’t yet seen 200 times. I really like House and not just because I remind people of him, as I've been told. But I can see the similarity; I speak English and Hugh Laurie is English. I’m short and squat and he’s tall and lean. We both have bald spots. He always has a three day growth and I have no idea how to do that or I’d have one too. He walks with a cane but uses the wrong hand to hold it. My teeth are better and my own. I win.

Only in the USA, Home of Hyperbole, could you take a sporting event that only one other nation plays seriously, and what Canada has ain’t what we do, and make it into the Greatest Show on Earth and then TOP that with elaborate commercial interruptions that are supposedly the reason for the presentation of the sport in the first place but that have taken a position of prominence Hank Stram and Vince Lombardi could have never imagined.

Speaking of those commercials, I am assuming Elton got to use his own shoes in the Pepsi spot, you too? The Go Daddy spot carried on their tradition of looking like a high school A/V club made it. The Dannon Oikos spot reminded me the Greeks have bigger worries than the Euro crisis and nearly all the car commercials, except for the Camaro, were meh. I just learned that word from Facebook and looked it up here so I hope I used it correctly. 

Actually I enjoyed the Twinkies and the rain of frogs in the Silverado spot, but have problems with the Fiat 500 Abarth spot. And it’s not just explaining to my wife why one of those (the four wheel version) is sitting in the garage so much as rationalizing the invoice for all those Rosetta Stone Italian lessons. Do you think she’ll believe Topo Gigio is making a comeback and needs a roadie? Oh Eddie….

-bill kenny

Partners in this Cosmic Dance

If it takes all kinds of people to make a world, I've always wondered how many are needed to make a city the place you want to come home to? And, more importantly for each of us on where we've chosen to live at this moment, might be how well are we doing in that pursuit where we choose to be in the here and now?

I believe that's called a rhetorical question, and, thankfully, involves no math (I hate word problems: 'if a train leave from Peoria at eight in the morning and travels at .....) because I'm terrible at math. And spelling. And history. And punctuation; especially punctuation.  

Anyway. (I know: 'a comma not a period!') With the calendar and weather outside in disagreement over how much winter there really is or there is left, it's nevertheless a great week of indoor activities in a variety of arenas of engagement here in Norwich. If we were called Norwuch, I could leave a blank between the "w" and the "c" to remind all of us, that Norwuch needs "U." (Unless we were a bakery and then it would be kneads. Wow, this is going nowhere very quickly, let's hurry and fall farther behind.)

This morning at 8:30 in their offices in the Norwich Business Park, it's a regular meeting of the Executive Committee of the Southeastern Connecticut Council of Governments. Judging from the agenda, further efforts at regionalization are continuing at an ever increasing pace.

Tonight at seven thirty in Council chambers in City Hall, it's a regular meeting of the Norwich City Council and a glance at their agenda suggests a little something for everyone, ranging from uncollectible personal property and vehicle taxes (a nice chunk of change) through appointments to a plethora of panels and boards, expansion of the scale and scope of  the "Cit" Ouellet Recreational Facility to yet perhaps final Council action on the Reid and Hughes building. I'm assuming that demolition account for the two schools still has money in it; I'm just not sure why that's not the topic of discussion.

Tuesday afternoon at 3:30, it's a regular meeting of the Board of Education Policy Committee. I wish you all the luck in the world in finding minutes of any of their past meetings. Here's where they should be, but aren't.

At six, in the Norwich Public Utilities offices on Golden Street, it's a special meeting of the Board of Public Utilties Commissioners and the Sewer Authority, complete with 'strategic presentations' (the budget for fruit punch is running low; I think this is a good change of pace).

Wednesday is a pretty active day beginning with a (probably) regular meeting of the Rehabilitation Review Committee at a quarter of nine in the Planning Department's conference room, at 23 Union Street. It looks like they last met ten months ago, in April 2011.It's hard to figure out if they're not good at meetings or not good at minutes. Or both.

At 4:30 in their offices at 10 Westwood Park, it's a regular meeting of the Housing Authority, whose meetings are posted in a somewhat haphazard manner on line (this time last year they weren't posted at all so I guess 'baby steps is a good mantra).

At six (the city's web site says five but I've been told 'that's wrong') in Room 319 of City Hall it's a regular meeting of the Emancipation Proclamation Commemorative Committee, whose event last week at Norwich Free Academy was very well received. It would appear if you want to know what's going on with the preparations for the anniversary celebration, you'll have to attend a meeting in person since there are no meeting minutes on the city's website at all.

Also at six, and we're about four months (plus minus a week) away from Opening Day at Dodd Stadium, in Room 210 of City Hall, it's a regular meeting of the Norwich Baseball Stadium Authority. It would seem, based on a review of online archives, their last meeting was in November.

The Public Safety Committee meets at seven in the offices of American Ambulance. Sorting through their minutes and agenda on line, it seems they last met (would be different folks from before the Council election) in September. I still felt very safe regardless of the meeting frequency and hope you did as well, Kenneth.

Also at seven, and Chief Pudge should smile since he's been telling me this for weeks, is a regular meeting of the Republican Town Committee which may, or may not, be in Room 319 of City Hall.

The final meeting I know about this week, complete with location, is the One City Forum on Saturday morning at nine in the Greeneville Fire Department (bring you own Dalmatian, trust me on this one), which is yet another chance for those of us who live here to learn to work together a bit better than we have sometimes in the past. We have too much in common to let our differences keep us separated.

You name it, we have it. So we may as well use it to our advantage. Oh a whirling dervish, and a dancing bear. Or a Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire. Or a teenage rocker or the girls in France; Yes, we all are partners in this cosmic dance. Nice, nice, very nice.
-bill kenny