Waiting for Sandy

Waiting for Hurricane Sandy to make landfall in Westchester County, I am troubled by thoughts I have not done enough to prepare. Gilda and I have gone round and round about the wisdom and efficacy of buying a portable gasoline powered generator (our subdivision is not serviced by natural gas so we can’t get a backup whole house generator). Walking through the Christmas Tree Shop on Friday I was tempted to make an impulse purchase of a 3,500 watt generator for $299, but Gilda talked me out of it when I called her. Over 28 years we’ve never had a power outage, though we have come close. Several years ago a tree fell across our cul-de-sac street, land-locking us for a day. How it didn’t sever any power lines is beyond me. I’m worried our good fortune will run out.

Anyway, the real danger should we lose electricity is the loss of sump pump power. Our basement would flood quickly as we are the lowest house in our development situated over a high water table. Our sump pump has an emergency backup battery. If we do lose power I hope it’s not longer than the life span of the battery.

I’m not a Chris Christie fan but watching the New Jersey governor’s press conference on Hurricane Sandy preparations I was impressed by his beefy determination to be ahead of events. His non-nonsense stance epitomized New Jersey’s tough-minded attitude. Also worth noting that Christie said President Obama called him to assess the state’s readiness and its working relationship with FEMA. Nice to see Obama acting proactively and Christie giving props to a Democrat.

Lots of people and organizations giving tips on how to prepare for the coming deluge. I ignored most of the suggestions but for some reason decided storing water in buckets and even a bathtub was a good idea. 

Dan, Allison, Finley and Dagny are stranded in Sarasota, Fla. Dan’s ultimate frisbee team, Boston Ironside, was playing in the national championship tournament. They’ve finished second three out of the last four years. They came into the tourney rated number one in the country, but lost in the semi-finals Saturday to a team from Texas, Doublewide, which wound up winning the title Sunday afternoon. Small compensation was the NY Giants’ thrilling, nail-biting, clinging victory over the Dallas Cowboys early Sunday evening. Dan’s family can’t get out of Florida until Tuesday at the earliest. My brother, as well, is stuck on the east coast of Florida. 

Miss Congeniality

Well, Boston ironside brought home the Miss Congeniality Award, otherwise known as the Team Spirit Award, at the U.S. Ultimate Frisbee National Open Championships in Sarasota, Fla., this past weekend. Dan’s team, Ironside, lost its only game of the tournament in the finals to Revolver from San Francisco.

Ironside had been seeded number one, with high expectations considering it had not lost any tournaments this season and had twice defeated Revolver in Seattle. But at this level of post-college club competition, there’s only a slight degree of difference between elite teams. Ironside did not bring its A game to the playing field Sunday. Revolver did. Ironside literally threw away too many opportunities while Revolver seemed to run faster, jump higher and focus more. Revolver won 15-10.

Gilda and I made the trip down to Nationals to cheer Dan and his team on and help Allison with Finley, who, like his one-year-old girlfriend Eliot, showed up for the finals with a temporary tattoo of Old Ironsides across his tummy.

I’m not ashamed to say, I was nervous and anxious throughout the tournament. Gilda doesn’t quite get how a fan, and in this case a proud father, sweats out every point, engages in superstitious, patterned behavior and gets that queasy feeling in the stomach before every game. I get the same way before any of Ellie’s singing performances. But those are usually one shot affairs. This was a four day ordeal, eight matches in all.

Watching these young men compete, I was struck by the realization that players of a similar age are currently engaged in the World Series. Ultimate players get no financial reward. They mostly play a self-policed game (“observers” monitor the contests, adjudicating controversies that cannot be resolved by the teams). They travel the country on their own dime. They are part of a fraternity that is now international (fyi—Revolver won the world title last July in Prague; Ironside came in fifth).

Sunday’s final was the first time two undefeated teams met for the title. Revolver played like giants. For the second time in three years, Ironside came up short in the championship game.

You never stop being a parent. You never stop wanting your child to succeed, to attain whatever pinnacle he or she strives to mount. But you’re unable to help beyond being supportive, before, during and after the event. It’s disappointment different than the participant’s, but no less palpable. It’s an ache inside you because your child is hurting and nothing you could have done could have prevented that hurt. He’s a grown man, with a wife and child of his own. But he’s still my son, and I see him through the years, learning to throw, catch, kick and hit a ball, ride a bike, swim a lap, throw a frisbee.

Frisbee is a young man’s sport (though there is a Masters division for those 33 and older). Dan will turn 33 just before next year’s Nationals. Age, competition from younger legs trying out for the team, and the pull from his own family obligations are working against him. Yet I know his willpower is strong, his determination unbent, his commitment unyielding. Just as Revolver won its third matchup with Ironside, perhaps a third visit to the championship game next year will be the ultimate finale for Ironside and for Dan.

A Day of Remembrances

Today’s the anniversary of the perfection of the carbonized cotton filament incandescent light bulb by Thomas Alva Edison in 1879. His light bulb lasted for 13-1/2 hours of continuous running time.

There’s no record of when a father first shouted in frustration to his children, “Shut the lights out when you’re not in the room. Do you think I’m made of money?” Mothers were more sarcastic in their reprimands, demanding to know if the children thought the family had a money tree growing in the garden.

At least that’s the way it was growing up in my household.


Ordinarily, I’d look with slight interest at an article in today’s NY Times about efforts by the Guggenheim Museum to build a permanent food kiosk outside its entrance on Fifth Avenue and E. 89th St. The request, incidentally, was rejected by the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/21/arts/design/21hotdog.html?scp=2&sq=guggenheim&st=cse).

By serendipitous coincidence I discovered before I perused The Times this morning that today is the anniversary of the opening of the Guggenheim at its current location. Designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, the museum opened in 1959.


Today’s another anniversary, at least according to the Gregorian calendar. On this day in 1492, Christopher Columbus discovered the New World. He landed on San Salvador Island. We, of course, celebrate October 12 as Columbus Day because the Admiral, as he later came to be called, sailed under the Julian calendar. Ninety years later, in 1582, Pope Gregory XIII promulgated his version of the daily grind, eventually adopted by most cultures, even ones not disposed to Catholic doctrine.


I mentioned yesterday our son Dan will be competing in the North American ultimate frisbee championship tournament next week. His team is Boston Ironside. Turns out today marks the anniversary of the 1797 launching of the USS Constitution in Boston harbor. The frigate earned the nickname Old Ironsides during the War of 1812. A good omen, I hope.


My sister advises I write too much about sports, especially baseball. Perhaps. If she was annoyed by yesterday’s homage to Bob Sheppard and Mickey Mantle, she probably won’t like to know that today is the 82nd birthday of Whitey Ford, one of the all-time great Yankee pitchers.


Today also is Gilda’s sister’s birthday. I won’t tell you how old Barbara is.