Turn off the "yak"...

I have stopped watching the news.  I just can't bring myself to listen to the talking heads that yak and yak and yak about their own opinions.  I remember when I was younger and the NBC Nightly News was led by Huntley and Brinkley.  They brought a kind of elevation to the news.  As I recall, there were only one or two news programs on.  You watched David Brinkley and Chet Huntley on NBC or Walter Cronkite on CBS...I don't remember the ABC guys, at 6pm, and the local news came on at 11pm. Then, if you were not too tired, you watched the "Tonight Show".

Somewhere in the 70's the "news" began to get cutesy, bantering anchors and beautiful babes shared the anchor spots.  They seemed so chummy, and then began reporting on nonsensical stuff: hot dog eating contests, pet parades, toddler beauty contests...really??? News??? I think not.

Nowadays, the news is on all day long.  The first one on local TV is at about 6am...then again at 8am...then the "pseudo-news". You know, those news info programs that are merely advertisements for the latest pop culture event: latest movie, newest Gladwellian book, new TV series, or latest music video from a "hot" group.  They are more like cheerleaders for the media companies that own them, rather than provide any meaningful information for the masses.  And every cable network has tons of news channels: CNN, FOX, CNBC, Al-Jazeera, BBC...you can watch news all day long, but I would not advise that you do.  It will make your brains fall out your ears.

And while I am at it, there are three phrases I don't ever want to hear coming out of any anchor's mouth.  Those would be: "This is unacceptable", "I feel...", and "...zero tolerance." They are like the empty suits who are usually heard uttering these over-used platitudes.  I certainly know what is unacceptable; how about you do something about it?  I don't care what you feel, I care what is fact and true.  And if there was real 'zero tolerance", you wouldn't have to keep saying it...there would be real consequences for those who crossed the line.

I am also less and less tolerant of apologizing politicians or government bureaucrats.  Stop asking for  forgiveness and get on with it....fix it, stop it, or walk away from it.

Perhaps as I am getting older, I am getting cantankerous. I may be turning into a curmudgeon.  A new phase of life??? Hummm...

Autumn in New York...

...Why does it seem so inviting?...

Miller's Launch

This musical homage to autumn days in New York was written by Vladimir Dukelsky, a Russian immigrant who is better known by his "pen name", Vernon Duke.  Interestingly enough, he also wrote the music for "April in Paris". This tune is quite hypnotic and has been recorded over the years by Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra.  Each of their performances brings an interesting interpretation to the intricate lyrics.  It is a lovely song, and there is no denying this is a magical time of year in the Northeast.

...Autumn in New York, it lifts you up when you’re run down...

The seasonal changes that occur in this part of North America bring spectacular natural beauty to this area.  Spring bursts forth with bright yellow daffodils and forsythia followed immediately by the pinks and blues of tulips, lilacs and hyacinths.  Summer is welcomed with the apple and cherry blossoms that soon fade when we languish in the lingering hot days of August  when wax begonias and marigolds withstand the scorching heat...and then comes fall...the most glorious season of all!


Mums

 

at St Paul

 ...Autumn in New York, you’ll need no castle in Spain...

You can begin to feel the change coming in late September, a time once referred to as Indian Summer...some warmish days and cooler nights, and then suddenly you look, and the trees begin to change color, and you are soon surrounded by brilliant golds and orange leaves and an occasional pop of crimson. The breezes pick up and you begin to add layers to your wardrobe.  At first, perhaps a sweater will do; then later on, a lightweight jacket with perhaps a hat, especially if you are travelling on the ferry as it plies its way across the harbor.  From that vantage point you can see the trees on the Brooklyn coast line and along the ridge that gives Bay Ridge its name. As you approach Manhattan, the trees in the Battery seem to be dancing in the autumnal breeze showing off their fall colors in all their majesty.

Ferry leaving Staten Island

And the sea and the sky are brilliantly contrasting hues of blues that frame the whole picture.

Just one thing left to say:

...It’s autumn in New York, its good to live it again...


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-_wbY55PMA

You say "Day-TA" and I say "Dat-TA".

Have you noticed that the gathering of numerical information which is then fixated into an algorithm  is, in fact, becoming the be all and end all of knowledge in the twenty-first century?  The resulting "data" is then used to extrapolate future scenarios.  For example, in my final years of working for the New York City Department of Education, I worked for the Office of Teacher Development...which has since changed its name to the "Talent Office".  I listened to educational professionals describe the cycle of first year teachers.  This included a time of anticipation, expectation, realization of professional inadequacy, plummeting holiday depression,  rejuvenation and moving forward and plateauing at the end of the school year.  This cycle was documented by "data" collected by those folks who worked with new teachers.  Jeeze!  I could have told them that after spending almost 20 years in the classroom and working with all sorts of  teachers, old and new.  And no, Bill Gates did not have to pay me the big bucks to do the study; all he had to do was ask.

Later in my career, when I was working as a staff developer, I  attended a presentation by a worldwide publishing company who explained how they could extrapolate from the first few years of testing just which second graders would be college material by time they reached high school. Rather scary, don't you think?

But it is not just in the field of education that "Data-dancing" is an everyday occurrence.  At the end of many events I have attended, I have received "evaluation" sheets asking me to tell the presenters "How are they doing?"  In reality, the answers are culled onto some sort of "grid" and turned into valuable "data" for someone in the organization to interpret.

Ever notice how if you call an organization about an issue as common as changing a name or address on your bank account to returning a pair of sneakers that are too small, the person on the phone will ask, "Have I met your expectations for this call?" I never know how to answer that question.  What can I say?  You took my information...I followed your instructions...Goodbye.

Perhaps you have noticed that your computer seems to make assumptions about what you want or might be interested in.  I know that when I get bored, I sometimes look for dumb stuff online...stuff I really won't buy...Stuff like...oh...I don't know....Mallowmars....hum...maybe I would buy them.  Anyway, the internet and your browser will keep track of the sites you  visit and make "suggestions" based on the data it has collected about your preferences.

Our data driven society is annoying me to no end. I do not want to fill out an evaluation form for you or anyone else.  I reply to email follow-ups with a simple reply that reads," I don't do data. Now leave me alone."

I am NOT a young lady.

It happened twice so far this week; Monday and Tuesday. Some gavone (local parlance for unthinking idiot) referred to me as "young lady", such as in "This young lady will be giving her report".  These guys have no idea how condescending they sound to my over 60 year old ears.  I just want to slap them upside the head.

I grew up at a time when women finally were able to have meaningful careers of their own, yet many of us have had to put up with some ignorant ignoramus referring to us in the diminutive. ( Don't worry, most of these morons don't know what a "diminutive" is) which is really their way of putting us in our place.  My usual reply to the fool who refers to me as "a young lady" is, "I guess you really need your eyes check because I may act like a lady, but I am far from young.  I have earned my grey hair, and I have a brain."  This usually causes them to get on the defensive and explain that they meant is as a "compliment".  What planet do they come from?  I wonder why they think this is a compliment. It is beyond me that grown men are so clueless about how to address women of a certain age and competency.  Perhaps demeaning us makes them feel superior.  I am not here to give you an inflated view of yourself.

Once when I had to call my husband at work a co-worker answered and said to me, "Hold on sweetheart, I'll get him for you."  I replied that I did not know him, so I was certainly not his sweetheart and asked him to refrain from referring to me that way if I ever got him on the phone again.  He told my husband that I was certainly a "bitch" to which he replied," You called her 'sweetheart' didn't you?  Don't do that."  He understood.

So, gentlemen ( I am being polite here), be warned, referring to women of a certain age as "young ladies" only shows us how threatened we must make you feel.  Get over yourselves!

Moving on and moving in

Over a year ago I sold the "old homestead" and downsized from a ten and a half room house with full basement and attic into a five room condo overlooking NY Harbor.  I recently told a friend that when I was much younger, I watched all those cheesy Doris Day-Rock Hudson romantic comedies set in Post World War II New York City.  Doris always had a drop dead gorgeous Manhattan apartment with a drop dead view of , take your pick: The Empire State Building, Rockefeller Plaza, the East River, the Hudson River, or the Statue of Liberty.

Now, on an intellectual level, I understood that Doris who was working as a secretary or assistant to someone did not, in reality , make enough moola to rent even one third of that dream apartment, in my adolescent mind I thought, "One  fine day I am going to have a hot Manhattan apartment."

Well, it almost happened.  It is a Manhattan apartment on Staten Island.

After the death of my long time spouse, I realized that I just could not keep up with all the maintenance of a large house.  In particular the thought of falling leaves and falling snow gave me heart palpitations.  I was heating rooms I seldom used, and thinking about the leaky windows and long growing grass in both the front and back yards  kept me up at night.

I began my search for an appropriate apartment with the help of a great realtor, Rene, and my cadre of real estate companions, my daughter Tara, my friend Joan and her husband Bob, and my late-husband's cousin, Charles.  They came with me as I looked for a place I could call my own on the North Shore of Staten Island.  I had a few "must haves".  I wanted two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a parking spot, a washer drier preferably in the unit, and most importantly, a water view.

V-Z Narrows Bridge from the deck

Some apartment were just too small; others needed a tremendous amount of work.  One in particular, a former model apartment in a water front condo/coop complex had peeling greyish paint on the ceiling, a nightmarish kitchen, a bathroom dedicated to the family cat, and a wall of smoky mirror tiles that reflected a drop dead harbor view.  Unfortunately, I just felt, although it was a great price and interesting layout, it was too far gone for immediate occupancy, and I did not want to tackle a huge makeover.  So I passed on that one.

Others had great harbor views, but were very close to a rather dangerous housing complex, and allotted parking was not available until another owner moved out or died. It was also a coop with arcane rules and a laundry in the dark, dank basement.

My building The Pointe
 

Finally, after looking at 23 apartments, I settled on my present place. It has two full baths, one with a spa tub which I have never used.  There is a washer/dryer in apartment, which is very nice. There is indoor parking for one car per apartment.. a problem for some who have more than one  car, but not for me. It is a two bedroom unit, but I made the master bedroom into a family room/office since it opens out onto the roof deck that overlooks the Narrows.  The living room/ dining room combo has a sliding glass doors and a huge window that opens onto a balcony overlooking the harbor. 
The kitchen is compact, opens to the living area and its granite countertop stretches out to a breakfast bar with, as my granddaughter Erin calls them, the "grown up seats"...three high bar level chairs.

I think I made a good choice, plus no more falling leaves, and I am not responsible for removing fallen snow.

Balcony from the deck

Erin snacking on the "grown up seats"



Wild life

Often when I travel I notice the different kinds of wild life around me.  In Alaska I got to see some moose up close.  They are fascinating to look at.  They are huge and not at all handsome or pretty, yet they are compellingly honest when they finally turn and look at you. 

We were in Alaska in late August, and the salmon were running.  There were so many of them swarming that they appeared to be wiggling pathways that one could use to traverse the rushing streams and rivers in Fairbanks. Hawks and eagles flew overhead as we visited the beachfront forests with Tlingit totems dotting the landscape.

I have seen whale pods off of the beach at Cabo San Lucas in Mexico.   A familial group of cows and calves swimming off a secluded beach where we had driven on dune buggies gave  us a thrill as we stood on the sandy shore. 

Sitting in a small fishing boat off of Cancun where the Gulf met the Caribbean, we were suddenly surrounded by a huge group of dolphins swimming and diving under and over our boat.  We sat dumbfounded clinging to the sides in both awe and amazement.

And I have also had encounters with wild life here at home.  We have been invaded by those neighbors of ours from the North: Canada geese. They have found a nice home here in the metro area...plenty to eat and not as cold as their original hunting grounds.  I dare say, the current generation of local Canada geese have never been any closer to Toronto than Westchester.

Lately they have had newer competition in a ever growing population of turkeys...not pure wild turkeys, they have hooked up with some local domesticated turkeys and created their own kind of crazy hybrid.  The City of New York recently took a lot of flack from the local humane society when they rounded up a large number of them and sent them off to a local slaughter house.  I am not sure how they will be marketed for Thanksgiving consumption: "Big Apple Birds"??  Well, after the uproar, the Catskill Wildlife Preserve offered to house the remaining birds. So off went about seventy of them to the Hudson Valley. (Aside to my friends in that area: these birds have a serious attitude problem. Stay clear of them!)  There are still some stragglers around as I recently saw a tom and a hen on the grounds of Staten Island University Hospital.  I think the cycle of life will continue.

At a recent meeting in Richmondtown  in a house bordering the "landfill", I looked up to see three young bucks noshing on a few scraggily basil plants, the last of an attempt to grow a kitchen garden. It seems they are frequent visitors to this secluded spot that also contains a church and a graveyard.  It gives them a nice area to lunch on.

Even where I live down  the ferry, interesting wildlife show up from time to time.  I am, of course, surrounded by birds: pigeons, seagulls, sparrows and crows are constantly flying around looking for something to eat.  They often are seen pecking at the discarded remains of French fries and burger bun bits. Barn sparrows were seen swooping down onto the surface of Lyons pool in the early morning to sip the cool summer water.

But the most spectacular aviary visitor I had was a peregrine falcon who landed on my balcony railing three days after Hurricane Sandy.  I was on the phone with a friend looking out the balcony doors when he /she swooped down, sat on the railing, looked around, looked at me on the other side of the glass door, and took off to parts unknown.

This all goes to prove that there is interesting wildlife all around us, we just have to pay attention.

Pizza, please.

I admit it, I do love a good pizza. And I am lucky to live within the boundaries of one the best pizza towns in the world.  My own borough of Staten Island has some of the best pizza around.

I am partial to the classic pizza at "Nunzio's" on Hylan Blvd. in Grant City.  When I lived in that community I often ordered their pies "half mushroom, half sausage."  I ate the mushrooms, Bob ate the sausage.  Unfortunately, once I moved to St. George I could not get home delivery.  Last night I was at a meeting in Richmondtown, and I admit, I stopped at "Nunzio's" and got three slices of "regular" to take home and enjoy on my own. 

You can always tell a good pie by how it tastes at room temperature.  If it holds its flavor, it is a good pie.  "Nunzio's" uses  only fresh mozzarella, crushed tomatoes, basil off the bushes and has a classic Neapolitan crust: thin and crispy.

Many people on the North Shore of Staten Island will only eat a pie from "Denino's".  My own daughter and son-in-law prefer "Denino's"...its pretty good. You have to buy a whole pie.  They don't do slices, and they don't deliver.  This means their pies are super fresh; a boast to a good taste.  It is also a thin crust place.

Now that I am living closer to the ferry, I have tried both "Crispy Pizza" and "Pier 76".  The former is fine, the later is superior, in my humble opinion.

Manhattan and Brooklyn have good pizza joints. "V & T Pizza" in Morningside Heights does a good classic pie.  But if you want really great pie, head to "Grimaldi's" under the Brooklyn Bridge in DUMBO...and bring cash...they don't take credit  or debit cards.  There is usually a line, but it is worth it.

Chicago's deep dish pie is a treat if you ever go there.  I know Chicago is a good town for eating steaks, but  try to get to a local "Mom and Pop" pizza place to enjoy a good deep dish pie.  And New Yorkers, keep an open mind about this.  They can be wonderful.

I have had pizza in Europe.  I had a surprisingly good slice in France...in San Malo, Brittany to be exact.  A wood fired oven is a must for a good pie  This little café had one, and their chef knew how to use it.

I had a great piece of pizza in Herculaneum outside of Naples...no surprise there; Naples is the home of the pizza.  They had better do it well.

My recent trip to Rome was fraught with pizza disappointment, as the local place near our hotel served up a rather disappointing pie of less than stellar quality.  Fortunately, we had a superior pie in a little pizza place near the Spanish Steps.  Perhaps the fact that we finished off a half pitcher of the local red with it did not hurt.

So, don't be afraid to experiment with your pizza choices as you travel.  Just, please, don't go to a "Pizza Hut" or "Domino's"!

Ships and boats

Staten Island Ferry boat

One of my new hobbies is ship watching.  This is basically because of where I currently live.  You can't have 100% of your outside windows and doors overlooking a harbor and not notice the different kinds of ships, boats, barges and freighters that go in and out of this port city.

Just to to let you know, there is a difference between ships and boats.  I know this because my late husband, a former navy guy, would point out the differences to me.  He served on a ship...an aircraft carrier; his cousin was on a frigate, a boat, he insisted. 

A ship is a vessel of considerable size for deep-water navigation. It is a sailing ship if it has three or more square-rigged masts. Ships ply oceans; boats do not. The word "boat" has two different meanings: it is a relatively small, usually open craft of a size that might be carried aboard a ship; it can also be an inland vessel of any size. During the workweek the harbor is dominated by freighters, tankers, barges and a fleet of hard working tug boats.



Ship and sail boat on the harbor

The majority of the ships that come and go are freighters. These are large ships used mainly for carrying cargo.  These freighters bring in goods such as cars, clothes, computer and other consumer products made overseas and shipped to the states.  They mostly come in containers and go to Port Newark around the Kill van Kull.  I know many are upset that manufacturing  jobs have disappeared from our shores, but that is the new reality of the globalization of our world economy.  As child growing up in New York City in mid-century America, I knew of many folks who worked in manufacturing or as longshoremen making goods for sale overseas and loading and off loading goods. Now-a-days goods are off-loaded by high tech computer "arms" controlled by highly trained technicians: welcome to the 21st century.

Other ships are tankers.  Tankers are ships designed for bulk shipment of liquids or gases.  Most  tankers that enter the Harbor are carrying crude oil heading for the refineries of nearby New Jersey.  The closest one is in Linden, NJ.

Barges also show up several times a week.  They, of course, don't really move on their own.  They rely on external forces too push, pry, and navigate them to wherever they are bound.  Not all of them are garbage barges, though there are some of those.  I have seen cranes and other construction equipment shipped by barge; there have been over-sized art installations, tractor trailers and pieces of pre-built houses shipped by barge to Miller's Launch near my condo in the last month.  Of course, they would not get here without their ever present escorts: the tug boats.

Moran tug boat
 

There are at least four tug boat companies that work the harbor.  They are not only busy during the week, but on the weekends they often escort ocean liners and cruise ships out to Sandy Hook.  So these boats are ever present on the water, even at night  you can see their white and red blinking lights and hear their deep horns blow.

Cruise ship leaving on a Sunday

The weekends, however are dominated by the boats.  The ferries shuttle natives and tourists alike in twenty-five minute intervals day and night.(We just got 24 hour half hour service approved by the city council) On Saturdays and Sundays sail boats and motor boats show up from the early spring to late fall.  There is an occasional jet skier, but they are few and far between.  I think one would have to be extremely skilled or overly cocky to take one of these out in the Harbor.  I did see one actually cut off a ferry one Sunday morning.

Sometimes I wish I had a more "beachy" view, but there is always something to look at here.  Now I am going to make a nice cup of tea and sit outside and see what sails by.  I'll keep you posted.



Seen and Not Heard

Having spent the majority of my working life in the field of education, I have been surrounded by children for most of my adult life.  Actually, I have been surrounded by preadolescents for most of the time, and they are a species unto themselves.

Now that I am retired and doing a fair amount of travelling, I often spend some time observing the behaviors of the children I see on my travels.  I started doing this in earnest after hearing about a book written by an American mother living in France who noted how differently French children behaved in social situations as compared to her own American children. The French children, she noted, were decidedly better behaved and less complaining.

So on a recent trip to Italy, I quietly noted the behavior of the children and teens I saw around me.  These are solely my anecdotal observations:

1.  Teen agers all dress alike.  Jeans, hoodies, sneakers and backpacks are the universal adolescent uniform.  Rome, London, Stockholm, Budapest, New York City...no matter what city you are in, they all dress the same. 

2. Extreme droopy drawers are an American phenom. The Italians just seem to have too much style to let their pants hang low. The British are just too hip to look so sloppy.

3. American kids tend to misbehave on the way to and from school.  In Rome, we stayed at a tourist hotel near a transportation hub with lots of kids on their way to and from school.  They travelled in groups, but I saw no bad behavior on the streets or on the buses during our stay.  The only questionable behavior I ever noticed was in Athens when a group of Spanish teens made an offensive remark about our Greek guide, a pretty young woman.  Unfortunately for them, many of us understood Spanish; one of the gentleman on our trip, a retired gym teacher from New York, basically told them to shut up and behave themselves.  Which they quickly did.

4. Teen aged girls on class trips travel in groups of three or four and pout a lot.  Teen aged boys travel in packs and laugh a lot...everywhere.

5. Children in Europe eating at restaurants with their parents stay seated, do not swing their chairs, roll on the floor, bang on pianos, nor run around the place willy-nilly. Unfortunately, I have observed all of those behaviors, and many more, in  American restaurants, church dinners, stores, malls and cruise ships.

My over all impression is that European children are, on the whole, better behaved than American children. 

Now, how do we fix that?

Living on the water

As a young urban kid, I looked forward to our summer vacations.  My parents would rent a house in a lake community in Connecticut.  We would swim everyday unless it was raining.  I loved sitting by the lake and watching the changing face of the water as the day moved along and the light gave way to various shades and shadows.  I remember the last of the summer nights in late August when the community got together for a big clambake that usually ended with a bonfire on the beach.  We would look up at the Milky Way as orange sparks flew up from the crackling wood fed fire.

When I was old enough to go to high school, I attended a school that was a stone's throw from the boardwalk that faced the Atlantic Ocean in Rockaway Beach.  I remember my entire Latin class gazing out the windows at the ocean as it roared  and crashed onto the winter beach.  Soon after I graduated the good sisters had the good sense to turn that particular room into a meditation chapel.  In the early days of summer we would often just go onto the sand after dismissal, some of the more daring among us, having worn bathing suits under our Catholic girls' uniforms, would quickly ditch the plaid skirts and jump into the briny water.  I learned to bodysurf on that beach.

Moving to Staten Island in the seventies meant that I commuted to my then bank job in Manhattan every day by train and ferry.  It was, and still is, a wonderful way to start and end a work day.  The ferry technically has no right of way in the harbor and must slow down or stop for the larger freighters and tankers that crisscross the harbor on the workdays.  On the weekends, they navigate around departing cruise ships and liners while private motorboats and sailboats loopily circle around them.

Come to think of it, I have spent the vast majority of my life on islands.  Even though I was born the Bronx, the only borough of New York City that is technically on the mainland of North America, I have spent most of my adulthood living either in Brooklyn...a part of Long Island or Staten Island.  I like the smell of salt air.  It reminds me of home.

So it came as no surprise, at least to me, that when I sold my big old house a mile from the ocean, I bought a condo that faces water.  I overlook the New York Harbor, the middle bay area. I can see from Jersey City to the Atlantic Highlands on fogless days. I can see the trucks, buses and cars stream along the Belt parkway and watch them zip across the Verrazano Narrows Bridge...well, sometimes they kind of drag across the bridge, if truth be told.

And it is wonderful waking up in the morning and gazing out my bedroom window at the sun rising over Brooklyn.  In the evening it is the moon that glows over Fort Hamilton High School. I get to see the intricate commercial comings and goings of this wonderful harbor town. It changes from hour to hour, sometimes minute to minute.  Its waters are blue and green and grey and brown all at once and then it changes again and again and again. And then there are the birds: gulls and terns, pigeons, falcons, hawks, ducks, egrets, barn swallows, sparrows and starlings.  They swirl and swoop in an aerial ballet that never ceases to amuse me.

I think I really like it here.

Cruising down the river..or on the ocean?

I wasn't sure that I would like cruising.  The first ocean cruise I went on was to Alaska on the old Norwegian Majesty, which has since been sold off to some other cruise line. We flew from Newark at 6am to Minneapolis, then took a connecting flight to Anchorage.  From there we took a bus on a two hour drive to Seward arriving at the ship thirteen hours later. We cruised in a southern direction for seven days stopping at Skagway, Juneau, Cordoba and Vancouver.  It was a great experience, and I was hooked on cruising.

In the ensuing years I have cruised from NY to the Bahamas, Bermuda and Canada.  I have sailed out of New Orleans in the middle of Mardi Gras week to Mexico, Belize and Costa Rica. Flying to the west coast I have travelled through the Panama Canal stopping in Costa Rica, Columbia and Aruba. From Florida I have sailed to Jamaica and the Cayman Islands; another time it was to Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic and Tortola.

One of the best ocean cruises was actually not in the ocean but in the Mediterranean Sea. We flew to Barcelona and sailed to Malta, Naples, Civitavecchia, Livorno, Nice and back to Barcelona where we stayed for an additional two days.  At one port we  spent the day at a Tuscan olive farm and vineyard taking a cooking class, eating lunch and drinking local wine and lemoncello.

In May I ended by trip to England with a Trans-Atlantic cruise from Southampton to New York on the maiden voyage of the NCL Breakaway. It was relaxing, and the two best things about it were: no jet lag and clean laundry!  Also, I hopped on the subway when I got off the ship and took the ferry home.  There are good things about sailing out of NYC.

In 2010 we took our first river cruise from Nuremberg to Budapest. It was different from ocean cruising in several ways. First, the ship is smaller. Secondly, it pulls up right into the heart of town, which is nice for getting around.  The clientele is older than on an ocean cruise ship, and there is no casino...which makes no difference to me, but others might not like that.  There is always a morning walking tour included with your fare, and there are guides/travel consultants assigned to your group who help you navigate each city you visit. The afternoon usually has an optional tour scheduled...or, you can explore on your own.  And the optional tours are reasonably priced.

I will be taking my third river cruise in  November/December to the Christmas Markets along the Rhine from Amsterdam to Basel with a stop over in Munich.  I am looking forward to it, will be sure to share my thoughts when I return.

A few good steaks...

        I  have often considered becoming a vegetarian especially in the summer months when the          bountiful and wonderful harvest of fresh fruits and vegetables are raining down upon us.  There is nothing like eating a simple salad  made of  local tomatoes or biting into a juicy peach to start my inner food clock ticking  about  how being a vegetarian could be a wonderful thing. 

And then it happens, I smell a sirloin bar-b-que-ing  somewhere, and this  omnivore is snapped back to reality.

Not that I eat all that much red meat.  I really don't.  I eat quite a lot of poultry and fish.  As a child growing up  an Irish Catholic household, I actually looked forward to Fridays when meat was eschewed, and  we would feast on flounder, cod, clams, shellfish, smelts (I recently discovered that one of my siblings detests smelts,  I on the other hand, thoroughly enjoy them) and the occasional freshly caught bluefish.  My mother and aunts made cod fish cakes long before you could buy them frozen from Groton's Fisherman. But when I go out to a nice restaurant, I often order a steak.

I have had steaks in Chicago at Gibson's and Eli's, and they were great.  You really can't have a bad steak in Chicago.  It is definitely a "beef-eaters" town.  Also, I've had steak in Minneapolis, I can't remember the name of the place, but it was also a good steak.  I think you really can't go wrong in the Midwest eating beef.  Its grazing country after all.

New York, my hometown, also has some really great steak joints. I am not talking about Out Back
Steakhouse or Charlie Brown's.  They are chains and the steaks are okay, but not top notch.  For that you'll have to go to other more specialized  joints.

In Manhattan you have your choice of many different places Gallagher's, Landmark, Ruth Chris (a chain, but pretty good) or my Manhattan go-to steak place, the Old Homestead Steakhouse in Chelsea.  I have been there for lunch, and their steaks and Kobi burgers are wonderful. It is a real old-time New York Steakhouse, and I would highly recommend it to anyone looking to have a uniquely New York "beef experience".

If you are more adventurous, mosey on out to Brooklyn crossing the Williamsburg Bridge to Peter Luger's Steakhouse.  The décor is Spartan; the seating communal, but the steaks are the best! They serve their steaks with a "salad" of  sliced tomatoes and onions slathered in their own  steak sauce...tangy and sweet  at the same time.

On Staten Island near the ferry in St. George is Ruddy and Dean's Steakhouse. Its interior is classic "steakhouse" with dark leather banquettes and bar stools.  The menu is decidedly designed for the carnivores among us, but it also serves a good Caesar Salad.  It is across the street from the SI Yankee stadium, a short walk from the Ferry Terminal, and if they ever build the Observation Wheel, this restaurant will have a good view of it, as well as the harbor.

My last recommendation is not on land.  It is a floating restaurant on NCL cruise ships.  Each one has specialty restaurants, and my favorite one is Cagney's Steakhouse.  I always budget into my cruising schedule one evening at Cagney's to have a filet mingon and creamed spinach with a good bottle of Merlot and crème brule.

Do you have any recommendations?
                                                        

Sleep deprivation

I spent one God-awful night's sleep last night getting fitted for a C-PAP machine at Richmond University Hospital. 

Guess what, I snore.  I know that.  That is one reason I don't like to sleep on planes for fear I will make enough noise to keep both the Economy section and at least Business Class up all night. When I was traveling with my late husband, he also snored and we kind of balanced each other out.  I know that on several road trips with our children, they found it difficult to sleep in the same room as the both of us, and on at least one occasion, one slept in the bath tub to get some peace and quiet.

When I travel now, I prefer to have a single room since I don't want to keep my room mate awake all night. Often I have travelled to other cities and places as a delegate of the AFT and NYSUT, my travelling companion on those trips has a spouse who snores, and she bring heavy duty ear plugs with her when we room together.

Last year I finally decided to do something about my snoring.  I went to a local specialist who looked in my nose and down my  throat and said, "Yep, you have sleep apnea." But I still needed an official diagnosis. So he sent me off to a local hospital for a sleep test.  Needless to say, I failed.  I then made an appointment to have the breathing machine fitted, but I also failed that test, too.  I started to hyperventilate and just decided to leave.  The "helpful" technician said, "You just have to get used to it.  You will be back."

Well, I returned last night.  A different technician wired me up with about a dozen electronic "leads"  that were attached to a sort of "central hub" which was in turn connected to a computer that would monitor my progress.  I shut my eyes at about 10:30 and slept a total of one hour and twenty minutes.  I spent most of the night tossing and turning on a very narrow bed at an unusually high elevation off the floor.  I kept thinking if I turned around again, I would be rolling off and tumbling onto the floor.  I did not, but got no comfortable sleep.

At 4:00am the technician entered my room and asked if I was comfortable because she noticed I really did not sleep much...( Duh, do you think???  Did you check the monitor?) and told me I could leave at 5am.  I slept for another 15 minutes, woke up  5:15 was unplugged and drove home and promptly climbed into bed and slept for another four hours.

When I work up I had a lovely reddened outline of the mask around my nostrils and across the bridge of my nose.  I am glad I don't have to be out among many people today.

So, what is the next steps??? I have been told my doctor will prescribe a machine for me.  I can't wait to see how that works out.