The Well-Worn Route to Pleasant Stream

Around our house there is a movement afoot to have May 31 and June 2 excised from the calendar. June 1 is spared the executioner's blade in honor of Tillie's mommy's birthday. 'Tis true that kicking these two days to the curb will not change a damn thing. However, maybe it will make us all feel a bit better. Maybe....

Shadows are falling and I'm running out of breath
Keep me in your heart for awhile

If I leave you it doesn't mean I love you any less
Keep me in your heart for awhile

When you get up in the morning and you see that crazy sun
Keep me in your heart for awhile

There's a train leaving nightly called when all is said and done
Keep me in your heart for awhile

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for awhile

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for awhile

Sometimes when you're doing simple things around the house
Maybe you'll think of me and smile

You know I'm tied to you like the buttons on your blouse
Keep me in your heart for awhile

Hold me in your thoughts, take me to your dreams
Touch me as I fall into view
When the winter comes keep the fires lit
And I will be right next to you

Engine driver's headed north to Pleasant Stream
Keep me in your heart for awhile

These wheels keep turning but they're running out of steam
Keep me in your heart for awhile

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for awhile

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for awhile

Keep me in your heart for awhile

-AK

Farewell to Mr. Q

Here at the Firm we are girding ourselves for a loss of significance today. For the past dozen years the responsibility of balancing the calendars and the egos of dozen or so attorneys who have populated the Tort Defense/Litigation Department at Weiner Lesniak has been entrusted to one extraordinary gentleman. Today Ron Quinlan retires. There is a part of me that hopes Sunday lasts forever if for no other reason than not having to envision Monday morning and the tumult that shall arrive to fill the empty space created by Mr. Q.'s departure.

The world - pockmarked as it is by folks like me - is in perpetual need of folks like Mr. Q. He reminds us of humanity's better nature and the fact that it is real and not merely the rumor that one might believe it to be upon exposure to some of the planet's less hospitable humans....including Yours truly. He has spent the past dozen years adroitly handling the responsibilities of a job in which I would have lasted less than one half of one day. And all the while he has done it - regardless of how he may ever have been treated by someone to whom he was speaking on the phone by one or more of the attorneys here with whom he has worked - he has maintained a positive attitude. I never figured out what his secret was for refusing to let the incidents of self-created drama through which he had to wade on a daily basis get him down. I suppose now that I never shall.

Here is to hoping that a genuinely good man who I have had the privilege and pleasure of calling my friend and my colleague for the past dozen years has the chance to enjoy a long, relaxing and wonderful retirement in the company of his lovely wife Mary Jane. Good people are hard to bid farewell to....even when you know you must do so.

Safe journey Mr. Q. Thank you for absolutely all of it.

I was staying at the Westin.
I was playing to a draw
When in walked Charlton Heston
with the Tablets of the Law.
He said, “It’s still the Greatest Story”
I said, “Man I’d like to stay
But I’m bound for glory, I’m on my way.
My ride’s here…"


-AK

Clear Sailing to Breaker's Point

Thirty-one years ago today. A memory so firmly etched in my mind's eye that I recall it as if it happened thirty-one seconds ago. An event that produced then as it does to a lesser degree now such a varying array of emotions that at times it feels as if it happened a lifetime ago and other times when it feels as if it just did....

Well Papa go to bed now it's getting late
Nothing we can say is gonna change anything now
I'll be leaving in the morning from St. Mary's Gate
We wouldn't change this thing even if we could somehow
Cause the darkness of this house has got the best of us
There's a darkness in this town that's got us too
But they can't touch me now
And you can't touch me now
They ain't gonna do to me
What I watched them do to you

So say goodbye it's Independence Day
It's Independence Day
All down the line
Just say goodbye it's Independence Day
It's Independence Day this time

Now I don't know what it always was with us
We chose the words, and yeah, we drew the lines
There was just no way this house could hold the two of us
I guess that we were just too much of the same kind

Well say goodbye it's Independence Day
It's Independence Day all boys must run away
So say goodbye it's Independence Day
All men must make their way come Independence Day

Now the rooms are all empty down at Frankie's joint
And the highway she's deserted down to Breaker's Point
There's a lot of people leaving town now
Leaving their friends, their homes
At night they walk that dark and dusty highway all alone

Well Papa go to bed now it's getting late
Nothing we can say can change anything now
Because there's just different people coming down here now
and they see things in different ways
And soon everything we've known will just be swept away

So say goodbye it's Independence Day
Papa now I know the things you wanted that you could not say
But won't you just say goodbye it's Independence Day
I swear I never meant to take those things away

-AK

The Blues of Broadway

The Stanley Cup Finals begin tonight. Sadly, this year much like most years the Finals shall be contested without my beloved New York Rangers. While this season they came closer than they have in any of the seasons since they last won the Cup in 1994, this season ended too has ended without a championship.

On Friday night when I should have been sleeping to ensure that I was bright eyed and bushy tailed for Saturday morning's Spring Lake 5 I was instead glued to the television set watching the Rangers battle for their life against the Devils. It proved ultimately to be an unsuccessful mission. Adam Henrique scored in overtime and the Devils were off to compete for yet another Stanley Cup. This marks their fifth such trip to the Finals since the Rangers made their last one. The Devils have won three Cups since the Rangers last won one in '94. At this point I am compelled to point out that prior to winning in '94, the Rangers had last won the Cup in 1940.

And you know what? The extended periods of failure, interspersed with the occasional bursts of mediocrity and infrequent years of excellence are part of being a Rangers fan. Always have been. Always will be. When I was a boy the Rangers had a roster full of tremendous players, including my favorite player Rod Gilbert. They reached the Cup Finals on a couple of occasions but never won the title. It was only after Neil Smith became the GM and mastered the art of fleecing the Edmonton Oilers out of their best players (Mark Messier, Jeff Beukeboom, Adam Graves among others) that the Rangers won the Cup. For a considerable period of time in the post-'94 era after Smith was long gone (ultimately replaced by the guy he made a career out of besting in all of those deals with Edmonton Glenn Sather) the Rangers were among the NHL's worst teams. And where did those of us who are Rangers fans go during those dark, dark times? Nowhere. Well other than to the Garden for home games.

So yet another NHL season shall end without a Rangers championship. While it would have been great for what was a very exciting season to have ended in a tickertape parade up the Canyon of Heroes, it did not. Perhaps next season shall. And of all of us who are Rangers fans born and raised hope like hell that it shall, experience has taught us that it is far more likely that it shall not.

Either way we shall be good with it. As we always have been. For the Rangers shall be what they always have been: a warm memory of Sunday night trips on the train from New Brunswick, Nedick's hot dogs, Orange Juliuses and chanting "Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!" until we were hoarse when Eddie Giacomin returned to MSG in his first game in goal for the Red Wings after Emile Francis exiled him to Detroit....and of course "Matteau! Matteau! Matteau!" and all of the attendant bedlam that was 1994.

Cannot wait 'til next year right? Me neither. We are Rangers fans. That is how we roll.

-AK

May Days

While I hope that the summer's triad of June, July and August prove to be as emotionally satisfying as May has been, I am not holding my breath (and would appreciate it if next time I share such news you would back away from your computer before groaning since I can hear you).

May's first weekend was highlighted (or pockmarked depending upon your point of view) by my second foray in the New Jersey Marathon. Again this year I fell just short of my stated goal of "winning that mutha" - finishing a couple of thousand places or so shy of the medal stand. But I did finish it and in a not too-terrible time for a relatively old man (at least in terms of the condition of my knees) of approximately four and one half hours. I am confident that 2013 shall be my year. I am completely off the radar now. No one shall be expecting me.

This month has also heralded the arrival of the summer racing season at the Jersey Shore with this past Saturday's Spring Lake 5. It is an event that has been contested annually for thirty-six years and in which I have competed for the past two, which makes me wonder (as I am certain you are as well) just how the hell they managed without me for close to three and a half decades. Saturday morning in Spring Lake had a 'mid-July' vibe to it in terms of the temperature and the humidity. While it was a bit of a tough morning to run, it also served to remind those of us who run and race in the State of Concrete Gardens what lies ahead for the next 100 days or so. Embrace it, curse it or fear it. It matters not. It is coming sure as I am sitting here. And this year, as we had last year (and as he has done by his count close to twenty times - thus answering my question as to what the race's organizers did before I showed up last May), my running partner Gidg and my law partner Arnold and I - as well as close to 10,000 other folks - triumphed over the conditions.

And speaking of things to fear, if you spent a portion of the first mile of the Spring Lake 5 trying to weave your way through the mass of humanity clogging Ocean Avenue behind American Flag Body Condom Man - as I did - you have a visual image associated with "saluting the flag" that the pointiest stick in all the forests in all the world shall not be able to eradicate from your mind's eye.

But this month's highlight was the dual visits that the Missus and I enjoyed with first Suz on Mother's Day weekend, whose arrival was known to Margaret in advance, and thereafter Rob and Jess on Memorial Day weekend, whose arrival was known to Margaret....five seconds after Rob turned the corner around the back of Lynne's house in 'Squan on Friday night. Since Margaret did not know Rob was coming to New Jersey this weekend, neither did Joe. That allowed us to share the joy of the surprise on Sunday when the kids drove up from the beach and popped by the old homestead to see Joe.

As a general rule a sequel does not usually measure up to the original. As someone who witnessed both Margaret's reaction to seeing the kids on Friday night and Joe's to seeing them on Sunday afternoon, this was the exception that proved the rule. Think Godfather II.

I know not what June shall bring. I do know that May set the bar pretty damn high. June has quite a bit to measure up to. Truth be told, if it comes close that shall be good enough for me.

-AK

Just a Thought

In honor of this solemn day I wanted to share here one of the most moving essays I have ever read on the subject of the meaning of Memorial Day. To the surprise of absolutely no one I am sure, I did not write it. Rob did. Four years ago....


I started thinking in this time of war what this day means. It is for those who didn't come back. They didn't come back to their mothers, their wives or their kids. They stormed beaches, fought and died in foreign countries. All that returned was a box and a folded flag.

I recently attended a Springsteen concert in North Carolina. I traveled by plane through this American land because I could, because I am free - and because of the generosity of some good friends. As Springsteen played a song called "Last to Die" I got emotional. The song asks, "Who'll be the last to die...." presumably in the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. It does not matter what you think of the American involvement in these wars. What does matter is that we remember these brave American servicemen and servicewomen.

Meanwhile I am enjoying a Springsteen concert, enjoying a beer and enjoying starting a career with the best government in the world; enjoying freedom. How can I do this? These are my brothers, my peers, guys my age fighting and dying. They volunteered so I didn't have to. They're not coming back to their favorite band, their favorite beer, their families or the state they grew up in.

Their children will not know their fathers. They will know only their sacrifice and some stories their mothers will tell. They sacrificed for someone they will never meet - you and me.

Remember them today.

-RJM

....what he said.

-AK

Breathing Deep

Life is what it is. It is a series of days piled back to back upon one another. Days that are unique. Days that - one hopes anyway - not uniformly bad. We all have rain fall into our lives now and again. We need it. No one wants a drought. But drowning is not a hell of a lot of fun either. Ask anyone.

I arise this morning uncertain what today shall bring - although considering that at some point in time Rob and Jess are going to pull off a follow-up "Surprise!" on Grandpa Joe I have a reasonable expectation today is going to be pretty damn cool. While I hope it is, its fineness or lack thereof shall bear not at all upon the fact that yesterday was an extraordinary day.

Life it what it is. You may not know from one day to the next what awaits you. It may seem at times to be an unfair ride. Do what you can to make it through those days. For when you get to the other side of one and unwrap a day such as the one the Missus and I enjoyed yesterday, it will serve to give you strength to endure the next time you bite down hard into a shit sandwich.

May we all get to enjoy such a day - at least - now and again. We have most certainly earned it.

-AK