March 2010 Archives

...Doomed To Repeat It?

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Here's a graph of the S&P for the last two years:

This is the S&P between 1929-1930:

This is what happened after 1930:

I'm not predicting anything, but those graphs are a bit chilling to see how the economy just deflated after the "Roaring 20's". I certainly hope we aren't headed that way, but my friend Matt sent me those graphs a few months ago and I thought they were very interesting. Only time will tell how the next three years go.

Plus the S&P has risen in recent months. Who knows what will happen.

Hoboken Eddie

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Living in Hoboken everyone has a different perception of our town. My story began here in 1995, when I moved in with a two college friends into a railroad apartment on 6th and Bloomfield for $900 a month - total. They were crazy days when the majority of the town was filled with post-college kids looking for cheap places to drink, eat, and relax.

During that time, our local haunt was Stinky Sullivan's on 6th and Washington. It was a stone's throw from our apartment, and it had a good jukebox.

After a few months living at our new apartment, I saw a guy standing outside the bar, in between Washington and Bloomfield on 6th, carrying a stainless steel tray filled with pulled meat from a station wagon into the kitchen. He had salt and pepper hair, a ruddy face, and notice that the kitchen below the bar, which was never used before this day, had a few other people doing some kind of renovation work.

I stop him and asked what was going on - if a new restaurant was opening. He said that he was opening one, and it was his kitchen - his name was 032610.jpgChef Edmund Patrick McCarthy, or "Hoboken Eddie". Eddie was a funny guy, always had a smile on his face and generous to a fault. After his kitchen opened, I would dare say that I was one of his "regulars", if not his primary customer. I couldn't get enough of those pulled pork sandwiches with his special homemade BBQ sauce.

Being a regular, I would often hang out with Eddie after closing time, and we would get to talking. I found out that Eddie's dad actually was a graduate of Steven's Tech and he had NINE siblings. He left home around fifteen years old, to get a job as a dishwasher.

One thing led to another and Eddie moved from washing dishes to making dishes. He credits his mother as his greatest influence for his craft, and after many years working in a kitchen he started to develop his own sauces. Back in the early 80's, in between his days hanging out at Maxwell's and living on 4th and Monroe, he would make some extra money by selling it at local street fairs or with "Joey and Stevey" at Truglio's Meat Market on 10th and Park for cheese and hamburger meat.

He left our state of New Jersey for greener pastures in the mid 80's to work in Vermont and later in Key West, towards the end of the decade. He made many friends over that time, earning the nicknames of "Green Mountain Eddie" or "Salty Eddie". He has lots of stories to tell, and lived a full and rich life just cooking and having as much fun as possible.

Eddie returned to NJ, and it was during that time I learned those stories, and watched as he started making his sauces in the little kitchen below Sullivan's bar. They multiplied in numbers and he eventually had about twelve different sauces. I used to help him bottle those sauces before the Arts and Music Festivals, adding labels to the still warm bottles and having a few beers with him and his co-workers.

Those were great times, when the kitchen was open. You know how you can look back on a certain part of your life and realize how good it was - Hoboken Eddie's was one of those times. There aren't many times that a really great kitchen comes along in Hoboken, and Eddie's was simply outstanding. Pure comfort food - from braised beef sandwiches, hamburgers, mac and cheese and fries galore. There was nothing fancy about his greasy spoon. It could sit about 10 people, and that was pushing it. Often I would walk into the kitchen and there would be a line of people waiting to order. I would hate it. I wanted this little kitchen to myself and these "intruders" were ruining my special kitchen.

Years past and Eddie decided to focus on his sauces and close up the kitchen. It was a very sad day for regulars like myself, and I even tried my best to have Eddie & his partners do something with renting The Farside kitchen where they make his dishes and used his sauce - but it fell through.

Hoboken Eddie left and started selling his sauces to local stores, boutiques and restaurants. Eventually his created an online store,, where he now sells seventeen different sauces, and has won Chili Pepper magazine's famous Fiery Food Challenge. Some of Eddie's other sauces have won awards, too: the HomeMade BBQ Sauce, Hot Sauce, Jamaican BBQ, Merlie's Magic, Home Grown, Sweet and Sour and Spicy Mustard are all award winning sauces.

You can still spot Eddie at every Arts and Music Festival in Hoboken. He's usually selling his sauces on the corner of 6th and Washington Street, every year, and is worth going out to meet. His sauces are available locally, in almost every boutique food store. In the future Eddie hopes to make his return to Hoboken by opening up a new restaurant, with the possibility of making a franchise of Hoboken Eddies and there are some plans for a possible reality cooking show, too. You can keep up with him on his Facebook page, and I would encourage you to try those sauces...and as Eddie would say, "Ya Hear Me??"

When I read stories like this, I happen to think of a letter that was written in May 2000, by a journalist for the Halifax Daily News.

This letter points out the logical flaw in "homosexuality is wrong because the bible says so" argument, if homosexuality is wrong because it says so in the bible - why aren't any other activities now viewed as innocuous but once regarded as unacceptable are also offenses against God's law? How can one part of Leviticus be deemed as etched in stone, written by God himself, indisputable - when other parts are deemed as archaic?

I was raised a Catholic. I went to LaSalle and Villanova. I had eight years of regular school, along with the requirement of one class per semester for biblical teachings. I'm not an expert, but what I did glean over those years is that religion should be about LOVE. It should be about FORGIVENESS. It should be about UNDERSTANDING.

I'm not gay. I do have relatives that are. I love them, and respect their CHOICE. I have a hard time believing that with everything that's wrong with the world that in the name of religion we need to vilify two consenting adults that have genuine love for each other, and want to give love to their own children. Think about how many unloved, unadopted children there are in the world.

I don't renounce the teachings of Jesus. I don't renounce the word of the bible. I have my own relationship with Jesus, and it is one about living my life in a way to help the world around me. I make mistakes and trample over people's feelings and I try to make amends when I do. I try to do charitable things in actions, or at the very least with financial compensation (Charity: Water and Red Cross for Haiti were my last two recent donations and I work with my employer to find time to volunteer for charity projects). Oh, and remember how the good Christian Pat Robertson was nice enough to say that Haiti brought the earthquake destruction upon themselves due to their pact with the devil 200 years ago. Did Pat Robertson have a reason for the Chilean earthquake, too?

This letter isn't necessarily "real", but I think you will find it amusing and, in a way, informative. Read on Christians...

Not So Neighborly...

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Saturday was like any other day. I woke up around 7am, to the noise of claws on hardwood floors. They make a small clicking noise, but speak volumes: "I am up and I need a walk."

Rocco was awake.

He doesn't bark or whine. He just waits and when impatient, will walk around my small bedroom.

I get up and take him out. Often, I just open my door and let him into the hallway of our condo building. I have done this many, many times and he gets to work off some extra energy when I do it. Sometimes he runs ahead of me, sniffing and exploring. Other days I will walk 100 feet to the elevator and he's still at the door, looking at me with "aren't you forgetting something" expression. I love his personality.

Later that morning I decide that I would take Rocco to the dog park, then hit Vito's deli afterwards, killing two birds with one stone: Getting Rocco some exercise and me my lunch.

I get my coat and his leash, and head to the door. I let him out the door and he dashes off, scampering down the hall, while I follow. I see him reach the elevator and I hear the "ding" of the elevator bell. I guess the elevator arrived, and I see his ears perk up with his "recognition" expression. OK, I know he saw someone and he leaves my field of vision, headed to the elevator.

I'm still walking there, expecting someone was getting off the elevator and Rocco was greeting them.

I get to the elevator and the door to the elevator is 90% closed and there's no dog and no people.

I bang on the elevator door, shouting "Open the door!" and can hear a little girls frightened voice saying, "Doggie!" and a woman's voice calmly saying, "No, that's a nice doggie."

It is my neighbor, who has a four year old girl who is basically petrified of my seven month old, 22 pound French Bulldog. A dog that doesn't have a mean bone in his body, and loves everyone. But, to a four year old girl, my dog may look menacing and now she, her mother and my leash-free dog were on an elevator together, going from the third floor to the first floor.

Not good.

I briefly thought about taking the stairs, but then wondered what will happen when they reached the ground floor. Does Rocco stay in the lobby or on the elevator?

I waited for the elevator to come back, and the elevator was empty. I go to the first floor lobby to see a man standing there, and Rocco, just sniffing around like nothing major happened. The guy says, "I don't know who's dog that is."

My neighbor wasn't there, either.

I get off, grab Rocco and leash him. Yes, I know what you are thinking - I should have leashed him and this would never have happened. Part of me knows that i'm to blame here, but another part of me wonders two things:

1. Why couldn't my neighbor have hit the "Door Open" button? She could have been distracted, but...really?

2. I recognize that her daughter doesn't like my dog, but she leave the dog in the lobby...alone? Come on. If the roles were reversed, if her daughter hopped on the elevator with me would I leave her daughter in the lobby?

Suffice to say I was fairly angry. I leave the building and see my neighbor a block away, walking with her daughter, towards Washington Street.

Again, if I leashed my dog before opening the door none of this would happened, but I still think my neighbor was in the wrong here, too - she should have at least made sure I got my dog back safely.

What do you think? Leave a comment or email me. Also if you have issues commenting, send me an email, with that error.

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This page is an archive of entries from March 2010 listed from newest to oldest.

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