Marvel Comics on Line One for Me (I Hope)

I discovered earlier this week that I actually really have a super power. Whether I can use it to create my very own Life of Reilly (not Bill O’ but this one) has yet to be determined but I’m doing so well already that it’s sort of a moot point (from which you can see Rising Gorge on a clear night; see, Sara J, I do remember some stuff from long ago).

I think I’m downplaying the superpower because it’s not really as dramatic and life-affirming as I’d have hoped if I were being given the chance to choose my own. Are you ready? I have the power to make full to their top black plastic garbage can liners stand up, and not tip over even a little bit, when taken out of the trash receptacle.

Don’t snort in derision (perhaps super hearing is now also another of my superpowers). I’m very excited about this. I already had the glasses and have had a cape for years that I keep in the car, in the spare tire wheel well and that I have to explain whenever the Triple A road service folks come to give me a hand on the interstate.

Yeah, I know it’s not much; but it’s something and I’m grateful for it. I was completely surprised when I discovered this secret ability and have been dismayed at the number of blasé people who live in my neighborhood. No matter how many folks I demonstrated this to yesterday none of them were impressed. One even asked me if I’d take the bag with me on my way out and put it in the bin. I did. But I did NOT do so with a glad heart, let me tell you. 

Would I have preferred something more along the lines of an ability to rapidly straighten out grocery shelves of canned goods in disarray? Maybe. Though I’m unclear if the Forces of Evil have designs on wreaking havoc in those aisles of our groceries. I’m thinking of asking Dick “20/20 Hindsight” Cheney what he thinks but figure if I can wait another thirty seconds he’ll tell me all about it unsolicited. A guy who really is his name. Glad that’s not my superpower. I’ll rejoice with my trash bags and be glad.

Unless I’m being Hefty.

-bill kenny

Man geht immer mit einem lachenden auge....

Don't scratch your head too much, the title today is German. Based on yesterday's World Cup match between Deutschland and the USA, a translation to consider might be this visual:

In my family, the result saved a lot of emotional churn as my wife and both of our children were born in Germany and Sigrid remains a German citizen. And spoiled guy that I am had you told before the evening of the first game of the first round that the USA would be playing for a chance to win their division... (pause) of Death, I might have wondered what you were smoking.

The pair of teams for whom I cheer both made it to the Round of Sixteen. How the USA will fare against Belgium remains to be seen, but that's the next chapter of the story and we'll know more when we turn the page.

Speaking of pages (Jimmy? Sorry, no) these matches aren't played on paper but on the pitch and a team analysts felt was superior and picked to go far, Portugal, is, indeed,  going far, all the way back to Lisbon as this weekend gets ready to unfold and the matches continue.

Eleanor Roosevelt said, “The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” So if you talk in your sleep, don't sleep, but never stop believing in the beauty of your dreams.

- bill kenny

Be In This Moment

I’m writing this in the countdown to perhaps the most important soccer match in the modern history of  the United States Men’s National Team. They meet Germany, the homeland of the U. S. National coach Jurgen Klinsmann, at (appropriately enough) high noon. This is the Moment of Truth, alles oder nichts.

Meanwhile, at the same time across town in another part of the same galaxy, Portugal and Ghana will play one another. Only two of those teams will advance to the Round of 16 and at this writing, no one from Group G (I’m thinking ‘grauenhaft’ is as close to ‘death’ as I can get and it’s not that close) have yet advanced. Germany clobbered Portugal in the first game, with the USA beating Ghana. For their respective second acts, the Germans tied Ghana and Team USA and Portugal ended in 2-2.  

No later than 1500, three o'clock this afternoon, we’ll know who is moving on. Yes, the American team wouldn’t be sweating any of this if they’d held on for another thirty seconds against Portugal Sunday afternoon but….If my Mom had married a Kennedy, I’d be living in the White House; but she didn’t and I’m not. End of story.

There are incredibly complex mathy calculations for what could happen in the USA-Germany game, and some of that is reduced to words right here. I forgot my pocket protector, never learned how to use a slide rule (I’m ashamed to admit this), and I am terrified of scientific calculators. Today, I think the only gear we can use today to make the Round of 16 is forward, foot to the floor/pedal to the metal.

Until, during and for a not inconsiderable amount of time after this game is played, attempting to contact me, even telepathically, will avail you not at all. This is MLB’s Opening Day all over again-don’t call or text, or think about doing either as I am engaged and will yell myself hoarse at little tiny people inside the box of flickering shadows we keep in the living room. I don’t care if they can’t hear me. I can and that’s enough.

Team USA exits Arena Pernambuca today either with its shield or on it. 

I. Believe. That. We. Will. Win. Game on!  

- bill kenny

Changing Directions of the Circles

The speed of light is faster than the speed of sound. Perhaps that's why so many people look good until you hear them speak. Present company definitely included. Less than a month ago we were arguing line items, re-evaluations, mill rates and property taxes eventually acquiescing to another municipal budget where no one has quite enough to live but more than enough to keep from succumbing.

We are masters of the municipal dog-paddle, never reaching shore but never going under. Of course, all this annual hand-to-mouth financing means a full set of fingerprints on our tongues because that’s how perilously close the gap has become.

But now the summer (perhaps of our discontent?) has arrived, and the kids are out of school and for better or for worse we’ve put aside any serious thoughts about developing solutions to our seemingly perpetual problem of growing the Grand List to better enhance our community’s quality of life. 

After all, what can any one person do? What was that Hamlet said about a petty pace and way tomorrow and tomorrow creeps? He didn’t have property taxes due on the first of July, that’s for sure.

And  maybe when those tax bills start arriving next week (July is next Tuesday) we can attempt again to restart a dangling conversation we have with those whom we’ve chosen to lead our city about what goods and services we want/need/expect and how much we are willing to pay for them.

It’s unfair to those whom we have chosen for office to show up at City Council meetings in the spring when close to 80% of the budget formulation is complete and yell at them for three minutes, leave and not be seen again until the following year.

No matter what the people we elect do, we’re unhappy. Is it because doing something is riskier than doing nothing? Perhaps. The difference between a rut and a grave is nothing more than the depth and we all know people prefer a problem that is familiar to a solution that is not.

I’d suggest because it is summer when weather and day-to-day activities seem to encourage us to do different things that we dedicate ourselves to a more than cursory review of how we can make our own lives better.

We are, after all, the architects of our own fates. It’s all well and good to try to place blame on “them” those in the world who are holding us back, but in the end we are the ones responsible for everything we do-and everything we fail to do and the results of those actions and inactions.

Normally I’m not a big fan of bumper sticker philosophy but I saw a positing the other day on Facebook that’s succinct, concise and more than just painfully accurate at describing our situation here in Norwich. It made me smile but then it made me think. I hope it does the same for you: “We have a strategic plan. It’s called doing things.” 

-bill kenny

Goldilocks Might Be Odd Girl Out

I love speed scrolling. You probably do it as well or better than I can. It’s when you open up a news source (not TMZ, I said a news source) and basically skim the words as you move the trackball or scroll down with the wireless mouse (see? I’m catching on. I have a coal-fired mouse on a cable but concede times have changed in the last thirty years (and not for the better)).

Some folks write great headlines: the NY Times and LA Times come to mind immediately; also okay are the Frankfurter Rundshau and the Washington Post. I can read the headlines and get a feel for the content and decide as I’m scrolling on the river whether to go with the flow or open the article and read further.

I dislike a headline that tricks me into opening an article and then the story itself fails to deliver on the promise of the headline. I’m often disappointed to discover me and twelve million close personal FB Friends aren’t getting the dirt the way we thought we were when we clicked on the big ‘youbetcha!’ in the corner of Entertainment Tonight or True Facts. And people wonder why I have trust issues. What people? See what I mean.

However, I stopped dead in my tracks for this headline and while I’ll never be confused with an actual  fan of the Huffington Post which always seems a semi-tawdry mix of the National Enquirer and Police Gazette, I have to agree they delivered this time around. But so much for knowledge is power, eh?

I mean now that you’ve read the story and know the information, how can you seriously expect to work any of it into a conversation? The only thing I’d point out is, had it ever appeared as part of a FB news feed, how could anyone in good conscience give it a thumbs-up since, it seems to me the very absence of thumbs is part of the problem. Where else would you put the pick?

-bill kenny   

Hope Floats

I had a long, hard week last week in the gym so maybe that's part of why the dream I had last night happened. The rest of the reason, I'm thinking/hoping is torn from the sporting headlines.

I dreamed last night I was toiling away on the cross-trainer in the Planet Fitness I frequent to the dismay of the staff.  That was certainly the case in real life as I struggled with one for the first three days of the work week last week eventually, against my better judgement, switching to the treadmill because I was getting off the device physically broken and not understanding why that was happening.

In the dream, the person alongside of me was using his Kindle to read I don't know what, perhaps a book or a magazine. I'm working the handles on the cross-trainer like a crazed loon, shuffling my feet and alongside of me oh-so-nonchalantly Ignaz, or whatever his name was, is just be-bopping along and every once in a while I see him wet his index finger and touch the upper corner of the kindle screen to turn the page.

Ignoring the fact that I have no idea how you work a kindle but feel pretty safe in assuming you don't need to moisten a finger before touching it to turn the page, I watched him out of the corner of my eye turn five pages.

I still have a distinct memory of turning my head towards him after the fifth one, and saying to him, "Hope Floats" and then hitting him full in the face with my left fist coming across my body and nailing him squarely across the bridge of the nose.

Like I said, I'm pretty sure it was a dream though I did check the police blotter just in case. Now I'll have to visit the Amazon site to see if Hope Solo has an endorsement deal for the Kindle Fire HDX, under a headline that screams, 'It's a Hit!'
-bill kenny

My (Current) Little Town

As a kid growing up I hung out with some guys whose basic rule in cut battles was always 'no mothers.' If you don't know what a cut battle is, move on as I lack the energy to take you back to the USA I grew up in the Fifties and early Sixties. It would be like trying to imagine the aroma of the number seven. Enjoy your day.

Unfortunately, as a grown-up, I live in a place where that rule is never applied to where we live. At times we seem to have foot-races to see who can come up first and fastest with the most egregious tale of ineptitude, incompetence or injury happening in the city limits. No one is innocent in this endeavor, including yours truly.

From the Heritage Trail, between the Falls at Uncas Leap and  the Sweeney Bridge.

And then you have a day like we had in these parts yesterday; the weather was perfect; I had literally nothing else to do but walk the Heritage Trail from near my house to the harbor and enjoy the sunshine.

I like to think the rocks rather dramatically illustarte the river and shore demarcation.

I skipped using headphones and listening to music so I could take in the sounds of what my city is like to complement the sights of who we are on a summer's day. That it was also the first full Summer's Day was sort of parenthetical. It was lovely, all of it.

As far out into the Harbor as you can go and not be in a boat or walking on water. 

There was a festival going on at the harbor, lots of booths, barbecue food and singing and dancing. Because we close the boat launch, located in the middle of this pocket park at the river's edge every time we hold an event, doesn't make the schools of fishermen especially happy, nor should it.

The understated beauty of the houses that line Union Street on the way to City Hall.

Of course, no one wants to put anyone else at risk which is one of the reasons why the launch gets closed. The solution would be another launch, a larger one in an area designed for recreational fishermen but that's an idea that costs more money than we have.

Somehow the blue skies and sunshine really bring out the red brick in our City Hall.

And there, right there, is how I get into one of those situations where I, too, am knocking my town. Started out on a walk to the Harbor and look at what happened. The 'no mothers' rule, though, still applies. In case you thought otherwise.
-bill kenny