Racket ball, I think

Reading Katherines blog reminded me of the only time I played racket ball. It was in Cobbleskill NY. I was staying with Joe Corvino. He invited me for a game. I said I'd be glad to play racket ball. What is it? He suspected I had never played. He outfitted me with a racket, and a pair of sneakers. Four sizes too large. We were off for the park. We stood on an asphalt area with lines on it. Facing a concrete wall. Joe gave me a crash course in the rudiments of the game. I hit the first shot against the wall, and fell down. My sneakers were on the other team. After a while I got the hang of it. I could fall down real good. By this time Joe was getting annoyed. He said he would play up front. I was ten feet behind him. He lobbed one against the wall. It bounced attractively in front of me. I knew I could tee off on this one. I swung with all I had. It was a great line drive. It struck the back of Joes head. It made an awful sound. Joe made some sounds that were more awful. I have never played since.

Welcome a New Blogger

Katherine decided it was time to start a blog. Check it out. It is great that we have so many people in our family who are blogging.

Raining Day

Couldn't go for my walk. Had to drive my van to the meeting. I don't mind a little rain, but not the thunder and lightning. Spending the day in total vegetation. Cross word puzzles, old time radio, games on this thing. Read all the blogs. Listened to Stevens band play a number. Read some more about acid reflux. Still trying to figure that one out. Had four real bad days. Pretty good right now. I hope when Beth and M build their shed, they ask me to help. Sounds like a great project. I wanted to put my bio on the blog. Don't know what to say. Maybe I use some advice here. At any rate, I'll think of something. I hope we will all be rooting for the Giants this Sunday. Love all your blogs........"G"

Golf in January

My son Joe and I played 18 holes at Cruiz Farm. Today. Jan. the eighth. What a great day it was. Polo shirt, no jacket. it reminded me of Florida. I just read`every ones Blog. I try to keep up to date. I have a few e-mails to write. One will be to Beth for more tech support. I struggle with this thing, but at least I'm on it every day.

Communication

Email is a very funny way to communicate. When you send an email, it can be stressful when you don't receive an answer right away. As Grandpa mentioned, there could be a number of reasons the person on the other end isn't answering. Most likely, they are not by their computer or they are busy and can't answer right away. Basically Grandpa, don't take it personally when we don't get back to you right away. We still love you!! It can be a dangerous way to communicate. If you are emotional when you write you may say something you would rather not have on record later. If the person reading the email to is emotional they may put meaning to your words that you didn't intend. In cases where emotions are involved it is probably best to write what you need to write and let it sit unsent for a day, reread it and see how you feel about it. The best advice anyone gave me regarding email is don't write anything you wouldn't shout to a room full of people!

On The Board walk in Atlantic City

I love the trip to AC. Not to gamble. I love the board walk. People come from all over the country just to walk the boards. I can do it any time I wish. Is that cool or what? They appeal to all my senses. The sights are everywhere. The Casinos, the Believe it or not half falling down front, the peanut man. The Korean war memorial. Half way down a beautiful bronze statue of a larger than life young man and women. Running. From where, or to where I don't know. Both are quite naked. Nice art.
The aroma of fried onions and hamburgers. Hot dogs, and Greek gyros. The salt air of the Atlantic, being carried on the gentle breeze. Breathe deeply.
To miss the sounds would not be possible. The squawking gulls, a loud speaker playing country music, the distant roar of the breakers. I stop By an elderly man playing the clarinet. He has fingerless gloves. I put a dollar in the pot and ask him to play "Stranger on the Shore" He goes into the song without missing a note from the previous melody. He nods the instrument in my direction. Thanks.
I walk to the sandy beach, only a few souls here. A young man with a hooded sweat shirt. Having an animated conversation. Waving his arms about. He's all alone. I give him a wide berth. A flock of sea gulls hunkered in the sand. All facing into the wind. Did I mention the bronze statue?
Back at Resorts I pick up Cathy. Head north on the parkway. A nice ride north. The new Chevy purrs along. Dinner at the Edison Diner. Then head for 226 WP. Great day. A few hours of the History channel, then upstairs to bed. I will sleep peacefully.Aaah sleep. Sleep perchance to dream. Maybe I'll dream of the bronze statue.

Love to read the blogs

Glad that some of you are writing, but sad to say some are not. Love to hear from Texas. Mark is funny. I would like to ask every one a question. When you e-mail some one and receive no answer. What do you think? My first thought is maybe it didn't go through. Then comes, maybe they don't wish to hear from me. Then comes maybe I said something wrong. And finally, they probably didn't like me in the first place. What do you think? Would love to hear.

When your brakes fail, aim for something cheap.

Who says no one looks out for grandpa? I just finished the week end at New Paltz. I used my 1998 Chevy Astro van. I was playing the part of Hydraulic Man. We jacked up a structure on M and B's place. had a great time.Used the van to haul material. Drove it all over the place. Then I left for the farm to return to Beaver Meadow. A good four hour trip. Next AM I pack up for my trip back to Jersey. I head for the Cole Hill road. My first stop is to Ron's house to say good bye. On the steepest part of the hill I brake to slow down. Something is wrong. The pedal goes to the floor. I don't slow down.My foot freezes. I'm picking up speed.Gad zooks, no brakes. I have feared this happening all my driving life.But for whatever reason,I have practiced this very event. I pretend I have no brakes and stop with the emergency. I depress it slowly with my left foot. My practice is paying off. The Chevy comes to a dead stop right in front of Rons. He comes out and in a minute or two he tells me the line is broken to the rear wheels. No fluid is left in the reservoir. If the line was going to break, it couldn't have found a better time. I returned home the next day. Safe and sound. With a new hydraulic line. My advise. Learn where the emergency brake is. Try to stop using it. When you're on a lonely road. When you're all alone. Never with Grandpa..........................The "G"