Recently in Life Category

When I first moved to New York City, back in 1994, there are a lot of things about me as a man then that were different than the man I am today. I enjoy good sushi. I get my haircut at a salon, not a barber. I like drinking fine wines, scotch and ports with some imported cheeses. I love a good monthly massage. I get sports pedicures.

SPORTS PEDICURES?!

So there are "pedicures" that women get and there are sports pedicures that men get. The basics are the same, washing, scrubbing, exfoliating. The main core difference is that a woman's pedicure would involve getting their toes painted, while with a man, it's basically about cleaning up dry, cracked skin and unsightly toenails. What was once a bastion of a gay man, is now becoming the normal practice of today's modern man.

Yes, I get plenty of friends who are guys and girls that don't understand it. Feet are feet to them. Everyone has a different opinion on feet, and my opinion is that there's nothing more nasty than seeing a guy or girl walking down Washington Street in flip flops, and having dry, cracked flaky skin with yellow toe nails. I see it all the time.

It's normal now for men to buy body scrubs, facial creams and other grooming products that differ than our forefather's set of grooming products that consisted of shaving cream, a bar of soap and Old Spice aftershave.

I usually get a sports pedicure a few times a year, mostly during the warmer months, depending on the condition of my feet and if i'm dating a girl - and every girl I dated loved it.

In past years, I have been to a few salons to get this done, but now that i'm working in a different part of Manhattan, I decided to do some research, and try some place new. I knew that I didn't want to go to a "girly salon", I was hoping to find a place that was for men, and not a salon that had people working there with fucked up names: "Blaze" or "Rumor" or "Staci with an I, not a E-Y".

Lo and behold, I dig up a 2006 story about John Allan's on the New York Times website, do a bit of reading and find out that they have a location near my office in Tribeca.

I made the appointment on Friday, and got down there after work.

I walk into their building at 418 Washington Street (Tribeca New York, not Hoboken), and the look is "Sports Pub Meets Spa". There's a small bar, a pool table, comfy seats, exposed industrial pipes, and a soft House pulse beat playing on the speakers. I check in, and the receptionists ask if they can take my coat, bag and mention that the store next door, which incidently is a wine store, is having a free wine tasting.

Normally this is where i'd politely say "no thank you", because i'd be self conscious and wait. John Allan's was fairly empty, it was 5pm on a Friday and I didn't have anything to do that night, aside from meeting people at Mulligan's for the Phillies vs Giants.

I checked out the 4 person seat bar, which had 2 beers on tap, a few bottles behind the bar, and a red velvet pool table next to it. There was a bartender there, and a woman from the wine store next door letting customer taste a bottle of Rose and a Syrah/Grenache blend. I talked to her for a bit, trying the wines, and I did prefer the Rose over the blend.

After that, the told me that all the beers were on the house for paying customers or members - I think my eyes lit up too much because they added "Well, within reason...". The bartender poured me a glass of Sam Adams draft, I was brought into a back room, which had two comfortable leather chairs, and two large steel buckets, sitting in front of each. On the wall was an enormous projection TV, at least 7 feet long, playing ESPN. They had me put my feet into the steel buckets, which had soapy water, and on the bottom of the buckets I could feel smooth stones or marbles. They handed me the remote, and I sat there watching ESPN, sipping a beer and the woman working on my feet began her work.

I could go into details here, but I really wasn't paying at much attention. There was lots of cutting, scrubbing, smoothing, massaging and moisturizing that were related to putting my feet back into looking great. It lasted for 45 glorious minutes and in that time I drank three icy cold beers (but they did run out of Sam Adams after my first beer!), alternated my TV watching between ESPN and The Dog Whisperer.

The bartender came in afterwards and fretted about moving a full keg from the back room to the bar. All of his co-workers were women, so I offered to help. We moved the keg, and then he handed me another beer, and I shot a game of pool. Once that beer was finished, I had a nice buzz, tipped the bartender $10, tipped my pedicurist $20 and paid my $49 tab.

The result? Nice, clean, softer feet that will look great at Bradley Beach this summer when I have the shore house.

Now that i'm living solo and don't have roommates or puppies to come home to, I have my TV as my friend at home.

Oh, my PC is my #1 friend, and my #3 friends are my plants. One of which is dying and I may need your help to figure out why this one plant is dying, but more on that next week.

So here's what i'm watching, and if you are watching it, feel free to comment!

{SPOILER WARNING AHEAD!}

I went to Maru after the gym, and got some take out sushi for dinner.

On my way out, I see a busted up old minvan sitting in the middle on 2nd street and Washington, like if it was stalled. It sat through the light and the traffic on Washington were going around the minivan - some people honking their horn and people on the sidewalks were starting to gather watching this spectacle in progress.

I was walking south, watching this with detached amusement.

I waited until the east-west light turned green, and was going to cross Washington at 2nd, and noticed that the minivan still didn't move, with westbound traffic going around him. Now this was getting silly and everyone on the streets were just standing there gawking.

There was an elderly man in the front seat of the dirty, damaged minivan and he looked confused and disoriented. Everyone was just watching from the street and cars didn't want to be bothered were going around him. It was a spectacle and no one was doing anything.

Fuck it.

I walked into the middle of the street, waving cars to stop, and walked right up to the minivan. He has his window rolled down, and I said, "Hey, what's wrong?"

The elderly man was wearing a ratty baseball cap, unshaven, and spoke in a light-Spanish accent, "I can't see - the light - the glare...."

I looked down 2nd street and he was right, the sun was setting in the west, and it was hard to see down the street.

"Ok, well I can guide you forward from out here, you can follow me...", I started to say when a cab passed behind me and honked his horn, yelling "USE THE GAS, BUDDY!"

Another Good Samaritian showed up and was on the other side of the car trying to help, but I think it just confused the old man more.

The elderly man was just out of it. He looked around a bit and wouldn't move the car.

"Why don't you turn down Washington, make a left here, and the sun won't be in your eyes...", I suggested.

"No, I got it. I got it.", he stammered. The car still didn't move.

Finally I had enough, and knew that being gentle wasn't going to work here.

With a bit more force in my voice, I said, "LET'S GO! MOVE IT!", and I spun my arm like a traffic cop might when directing cars to move.

Worked like a charm. His car slowly moved forward, and he rolled down the street. I walked to the westside of Washington, and the crowds that were watching this dispersed, and I heard them all mumbling about the old man being foolish.

I felt bad for him, it was clear he was just "out of it". Needed someone to snap him out and get him moving. I seriously question if a guy like him should be behind the wheel of an automobile, but that's not my job. I just wanted to get him out of danger, off the street.

Then I remembered, while walking home, a story my sisters told me once when they attended the University of Delaware in the late 80's.

I was walking down the street yesterday, freshly showered after a hard shoulder workout at Club H, and drinking a tasty "Mango Tango" protein shake, and carrying a "Classic Club" (very tasty, try it) on whole wheat from Quiznos.

Quick segue: Someone would make a killing in this town if an Energy Kitchen or The Pump opened up shop in Hoboken. I mean, think how many residents work out and then want a good, clean kitchen to order low-fat, low-sodium dinners? Hoboken411 reported an Energy Kitchen was opening up, but I think that fell through. Please don't mention "Pita Grill" to me. Should call it "Cardboard Taste Grill". I ate there at least 8 times, over the years, and i'm never satisfied with anything I have ordered.

Moving on.

I was walking down the street across Washington and 1st street, towards my house when I see two people head of me, next to City Hall, walking two well fed, dogs a pug and a puggle (For the record, I like Pugs and not fond of Puggles). Both dogs were wearing dog-sport-shirts, I read one that was blue/red and said "New York". Part of me was rolling my eyes because a) I was frankly amazed how overweight the small dogs were and b) I think any animal that is forced to wear clothing is stupid. Unless it is winter, and the dog's natural coat can't handle the cold, but it was a nice spring day about 55 degrees out.

I'm looking at the owners, and both are two well-fed Hobokenites, a guy and a girl, who appear to be in their early 30's. The guy is in a suit, with a ill fitting long black raincoat over a sloppy suit with a loosened tie. He's balding - one of those stubborn balding guys who think they aren't bald, and keep fighting to keep some kind of sembalance of a hair cut going. He's talking to her, and both of them are your typical LOUD YUPPIE HOBOKENITES that give the rest of us a bad name. The kind of Americans who go on holiday to Europe and annoy the the rest of the world with their loud, obnoxious behavior. I'm watching both of them and inwardly groaning at the both of them.

The girl is wearing a light blue pullover around her rotound frame, jeans that aren't flattering AT ALL, they hang limply from her waist, straight down to her legs - where normally 90% of the world has something for Sir-Mix-A-Lot to sing about - she has nothing. Baby got no back.

Now, bear with me people.

Look, I try not to be terribly judgemental.

Ok, scratch that, i'm kind of judgemental.

Very judgemental?

Ok, i'm basically the Judge Smails of Hoboken (bonus points if you know who that is without Google).

But seriously. Overweight and no ass? It's like a double whammy. I mean the one caveat of overweight women is that they have curves in the right places over the stick thin women with flat chests and no ass.

Yea, so, i'm a guy. I walk down the street. I look at girls. The straight men are checking out the girl's body and the gay men are checking out her shoes. I think 99.95% of the men do this. The other .05% are liars.

Then...slowly...slowly...I recognize the assless girl by the time I reached the corner of 1st and Bloomfield.

I haven't talked to this girl in over a year. I she was once a pretty good friend. You haven't been in Hoboken very long if you haven't lost friends over bullshit drama. She was now married and that was her husband she was walking with.

I was having a dilemma, while I walked behind them. Part of me was thinking I should stop and say hello. It's been so long, and honestly, I just have no real interest in being phony with someone that I really don't like. I certainly have no problem being cordial with people I don't like. But i'm not going to go out of my way to say hello to someone like this.

The couple were walking side by side on the sidewalk, taking up about 85% of the sidewalk. I walk very fast, and they are walking too slow, letting their dogs sniff everything they pass. I want to pass them, I literally will have to brush past one of them, with a hurried "Excuse Me", which would draw attention to me.

I looked for an opening between Bloomfield and Garden, right outside of Mulligan's...and I walked across the street to where the Guitar Shop is, and kept walking down 1st to avoid the risk that i'd have to talk to them.

I continued my brisk walk, and decided cut back over to the other side of the street at O'Donohughes. I'm sure they could have saw me cross the street. I'm sure they could have recognized me. I didn't really care if they saw me from behind.

While passing OD's, I heard them behind me, on the corner of Garden and 1st, still talking very loud to each other. Like the kind of people who walk down the street yapping on a cell phone.

Yes, a day in the life, and these are the things I think about. Am I the only one? I mean writing this I kind of feel bad, but it's what I was thinking. Maybe I write what other people don't say or maybe i'm just an analomy.

I was thinking later as to what stopped me from talking to her. We never left each other on bad terms. I just didn't want to go through the whole pleasantries. Part of me wasn't in the mood. If I ever ran into her at a bar or whatever, i'd be nice. I certainly don't hate her. She broke my trust once, and that's it for me. You lose my trust and you lose my friendship. She's just not a part of my life anymore.

That's about it.

I read this in the UPI the other day:

BOSTON, April 7 (UPI) -- Growing numbers of U.S. parents are enrolling their
youngsters in etiquette classes to reinforce behaviors they struggle to teach
in the home, families report.
Parents say changing times have made manners harder to teach, blaming rushed
meals, television, movies, and technology for the erosion of social skills, The
Boston Globe said Monday.
"Parents are doing the best that they can at home. This is just to give the
kids a little additional reinforcement," said Jen Schaeffner, a mother in
Marblehead, Mass.
Etiquette classes reportedly have become a popular way for kids as young as 4
to learn table manners and conversational skills.
Critics argue the classes are unacceptable for young children, the newspaper
said.
"It's something that should be integrated into their entire day and not
transformed into a structured activity," said Susan Linn, a psychologist at the
Judge Baker Children's Center in Boston.

I don't claim to be Mr. Manners. Especially if you are a Giants fan. But I do often take public transportation, use the gym or i'm out in the bars and try to adhere to what my parents taught me. Here's a list that my friends and I came up with when it comes to lack of manners from our fellow residents. Add your own in the comment section!

1. Saying "Please", "Thank You" and "Excuse Me". Three of the most basic words ever taught to anyone and rarely heard on the streets of Hoboken.

2. Learning how to wait in line, behind the person in front of you. No, not to the side. Behind someone.

3. Holding a door open for a someone! If I already have passed through a doorway, and notice someone is behind me, i'll hold the door for them, so it doesn't swing back and hit them in the face. I dare any of my girl friends to say that I don't hold open the door for them when we enter any establishment.

4. Learning how to go up & down the stairs. Up the stairs on RIGHT, Down the stairs on RIGHT. If you are faster, and not impeding traffic - feel free to quickly ascend or descend on LEFT.

5. "Wide Legged" men on public transportation & people who put their bags on the seat next to them on the bus. Grrr.

6. Asking if someone is using a bench or equipment at the gym or offering to share the bench/equipment. Is it really that hard, "Excuse me are you using that?" or "I'm using it now, but you can join in." I think we all learned "sharing" in 1st grade.

7. If you don't have something nice to say...keep it to yourself! No one wants to hear, "Wow, you gained some weight, huh?" or "Your roots are showing!", or "Hmmm, you have one ugly baby."

8. Learn how to get on a subway or PATH. Step 1: Doors open. Step 2: Let passengers off. Step 3. Quickly get on the train, take a seat, or stand in a place that isn't right in front of the fucking door. Versus what I see every morning....Step 1: Doors open, the outside linebackers in high heels slamming shoulders into the defensive linemen in sneakers trying to get off the train. It's like Full Contact Musical Chairs.

9. Loud cell phone talkers. Shut up! I don't want to hear that your boyfriend isn't paying enough attention to you. I don't want to hear you beg mommy and daddy to lease you an Audi A4! I really don't care if you think you are the next Guido Gordon Gekko and talking about the "LAMBO" you drove last weekend with your "BOYZ". Shut the FUCK up! I get a call on a cell phone in the gym or on the bus - i'll say "Hey, can I call you back?", not, "LETS MEET AT LOUNGE 11! THAT'S RIGHT BRO! DJ'AIS THIS SUMMER AT BEL-MAWR!!"

10. Passing gas. Dude, seriously? Seriously? You have to fart in the middle of a bar or on a PATH train? What's wrong with you, exactly? At what point in your mental midget life did your parents completely forget the part about teaching you not to be a complete and total scumbag in public?

11. Not giving up a seat for the elderly, injured or pregnant. On the PATH I had a few people - men and women - who were very nice to me when they saw me with my crutches. I always make sure I get out of my seat if I see someone who needs it more than me.

12. Learning how to walk on a sidewalk. Much like the stairs, stay to your right. Don't sloooooooowly walk down the sidewalk with a friend, shoulder to shoulder and stop people from passing you. Also the stroller moms know what i'm talking about - you push your stroller, wandering the street, like you are on too much cold medicine.

13. Learn to hail a cab - don't stand 5 feet in front of someone else who was hailing cabs before you.

14. LEFT LANE = FAST LANE (i.e. Faster than Speed Limit!). RIGHT LANE = SPEED LIMIT LANE. Stop being idiots NJ drivers! Do not pass someone in the right lane, then get in front of them and SLOW DOWN. This is also true for you STROLLER MOMS out there! Stay to the right, ladies!

15. When it's raining use an enormous GOLF umbrella when GOLFING. Not for walking down the sidewalk and making other people duck or move out of the way from getting hit in the head by your umbrella. Gustbuster makes a great umbrella.

16. People who don't slow down at an intersection for pedestrians & pedestrians who blindly cross the street without looking. Both drivers and pedestrians feel like they have the "RIGHT" of way. You don't. Make eye contact with a driver before you cross the street, and LOOK at the lights to see if you have the right of way before you cross the street. Far too often I see mommys with strollers crossing when the light changes and then give the drivers the "oh yea just try to hit ME buddy" look while they cross the street.

17. Saying "Bless you" when you sneeze. Have we really become so self contained that we don't say that anymore?

18. Helping someone out that you don't even know. I was walking into my building when I saw an enormous newly delivered couch against someone's front door. While passing by I saw the neighbor who owned the couch eyeing it curiously and looking a bit helpless. I said, "Do you need my help moving that into your place?" He looked completely relieved, saying "Thank you so much! I didn't know what I was going to do, I would have to call some friends to help me." Another example, i'm walking around Tribeca and always see the "tourist lost" people. You know the type. They stand there with a map, looking around, completely lost and trying to find street signs. I just walk up and don't say "Hello" - I simply say, "Hey, where you trying to go?" They always look so happy and surprised that a NEW YORKER (heh) is helping them. Everytime they leave I always get them saying, "Wow, everyone said that New Yorkers are rude..." Of course that's because i'm a PHILLY BOY in New York, but lets not get to particulars.

19. Learn how to shake someone's hand. Learn it. There's an actual art to how you should shake someone's hand. Make EYE CONTACT. Show that you are interested in them. I always get the people who shake my hand and look away like i'm not important enough to pay attention to - how very rude. Or they give me the dead fish handshake. Or the "I'M THE NEXT DONALD TRUMP" vice grip with a strong pull towards them. Learn how to shake someone's hand. Really. It's good manners.

And finally for my peeps at ICAP in Jersey City...

20. The terms "Print", "Done" and "I'm a seller" or "I'm a buyer" when talking about anything in normal conversation, outside of work, is over. Mmmm-kay? You sound like a tool, and it's not really bad manners, but it's just lame. Also if anyone says "I gotta hop" anymore, I think it should be legal to take them outside, behind the shed and shoot them like Old Yeller.

I started bartending back in 2002. I didn't need the money, really, but it was more of something that opened up with my friend Joe the fireman saying that he was managing a bar and needed trustworthy people to bartend.

We assembled a crew of regulars to bartend who were all Farside regulars, and jokingly called Dipper's: "Farside 2" when we first opened.

They were fun years. We weren't the "cool bar", we were a dive bar. We attracted people who liked to drink beer, throw darts, and get drunk - cheap. If you walked into our bar with $20, you would walk out feelin' great.

I would tell my family that bartending, to me, wasn't a job. It was like I was going out Saturday night, see my friends, get drunk with them and get paid. How great was that?

Certainly bartending was a great way to meet people, and meet girls, too. Behind the bar a guy can say anything he wants. Has a stocked bar to throw free drinks at cute girls. What guy WOULDN'T want that kind of job? I can only think of one other job that gets you more access to cute girls - a trainer at a gym.

When Dipper's closed, it was certainly end of something great in my life, and many others. The outsiders won't understand the spirit that a bar can infuse on their staff and regulars - it isn't just a place to imbibe, it's like a second home. I'm sure the regulars of Ted and Joe's know how I feel.

When Mikie's opened up, I had to go through the new interview process with new owners and once again, Fireman Joe was my Ace In The Hole. Turns out that he knew the owners, and I made sure that during the interview to drop his name in our talk.

It worked. I was on for Saturday nights. My only shift for an entire week, and it was exactly what I wanted.

But, the bar wasn't.

As much as the new owners, Mike and Cindy were fantastic to me, the spirit of Dipper's slowly faded away. I met new, great people, but missed my old friends. Some moved away. Some made new bars as their regular pubs. It was once a fun diversion at Dipper's and now turned into a 9 hour long job at Mikie's.

Every Saturday would roll around, and I would start dreading my weekends. It was hard to go out on a Friday night, because as you get older, your "bounce back" from drinking fades - it becomes harder to drink all night and get up fresh the next day. Sleeping in on Saturdays until 11am - 12pm would kill any chance of me getting much accomplished on a Saturday afternoon.

Sundays were just as rough, since I wasn't getting to bed until 3-4am. I'd sleep in again, and try to do something those afternoons, but I had my corporate job the next day. My sleep cycle would be all fucked up and often I wouldn't be able to fall asleep until Monday mornings after midnight or later.

Then Mondays would roll around and I'd be tired at Corporation X from the weekend, and i'd be catching up on sleep during the work week, often coming home Monday and falling asleep for 10+ hours.

Rinse, wash, and repeat for 2 years.

It was time for a break.

I knew I had the summer house in Bradley Beach coming up in a few weeks, and was planning to ask Mike and Cindy about taking a break over the summer. I planned to work out April and May, then possibly coming back in the fall if they had an open shift again. If they didn't, then it wasn't a big deal to me.

But things just reached a breaking point for me, and I needed to start my break sooner than expected.

I called Cindy, to ask if we could sit down and talk, I didn't want to quit over the phone. But she pressed, asking what was up and I could just tell her over the phone. I said how bartending just wasn't as fun for me anymore and I didn't want to quit, I just wanted to take a break until the fall.

She was cool, as usual, about it, asking when I wanted my break to start. I told her that I'd like it as soon as possible.

I guess my Saturday nights are free for the first time since March 2006.

I met with Perry from Hoboken411 last night over at Nag's Head. He was nice enough to design a bunch of cards (you can view it here) printed up for the Phillies club, which have on the front a picture of Mulligan's bar, Ryan Howard and the Phillies logo and says, "Are you a Phillies fan or know one who is...?"

On the back is the schedule for our gatherings at the bar, and the bar specials. Trying to figure out the "best" way to get these out to Phillies fans in Hoboken. Was thinking of going out next week (and draging some friends along), during the Mets vs Phillies games and trolling some bars for Phillies fans - hand out the cards and hopefully don't piss off the bartenders/owners.

My mom drove up last weekend, taking me to see Macbeth, starring Patrick Stewart, as my late birthday gift. I have been a Shakespeare in the Park junkie since I moved up here, catching a show almost every year. I got to see Patrick Stewart in The Tempest in 1996, in fact, and loved it.

Macbeth was....good. I can't say GREAT, only because I really had a hard time following the dialogue. I normally haven't had this problem in other shows, and someone suggested that with Shakespare in the Park that the actors have microphones and it may be easier to hear/understand them. Maybe that was it. Or maybe i'm just getting deaf in my old age.

Talking about going deaf & getting old...it's another night with Ratdog (Bob Weir's band after The Grateful Dead)...

This will be my third show in three years with Ratdog and it's at the Beacon tonight.

I've been reading that their recent shows have been a lot of fun. I sincerely hope it isn't another night of me at Grey's Papaya and getting home on autopilot.

What also is a lot of fun? Hearing how popular I am over at ICAP in Jersey City. I was out to dinner with Tiffany at Maru last night in Hoboken (so much better than Robongi - the fish was so fresh last night at Maru) and she was telling me how my little blog is the subject of lots of coworkers at her office, to a point where the heads of the desk shout: "WILL YOU SHUT UP ABOUT PHILLY2HOBOKEN.COM!!!!"

I blame our recession on Philly2Hoboken.com. I'm sorry everyone. Now get back to work, Danny.

Been working out of a Corporate office in the West Village, and i'm starting to now understand the "Manhattan Mystique". For all my years I worked in midtown, at 59th and Park, and would go back to Hoboken each day. I would meet a lot of people in Hoboken who were just in Hoboken because they couldn't afford Manhattan rental prices and were just waiting to make more money or find a roommate so they could move into the city. I never really understood why. To me I didn't see the "big deal". I didn't get what the big difference between Hoboken and Manhattan was. I'm not a Jersey guy, i'm from Philly, to me Jersey has always been a joke of a state, but I have found that Hoboken was a pleasant melting pot of, well, suburban middle class white kids.

Now that i'm working in the West Village, i'm starting to see the city in a whole new light. It's really not something that I can describe well in words, and I highly doubt anyone reading this will fully understand what i'm about to say, but bear with me.

Manhattan is just very....cool.

I hate to use a word like that. "Cool". Gee is the Fonz showing up? But it's the closest word I can really just decribe it. The midtown office wasn't cool. Sure, it was on Posh Park Avenue, but there's something very sterile and corporate about where I was - and the shops were all on Madison Avenue, the feeling to me was like you couldn't just meander around - you had to be "GOING SOMEWHERE" and the tourists were in full effect, standing on the sidewalks and blocking everyone.

In the West Village, however, it's just a more mellow vibe. I have been taking my lunch breaks just walking around. Exploring. Looking at the shops, boutiques and townhouses along tree lined, quiet streets. I feel like, on some streets, that i'm walking down a movie set - and in some cases i'll recognize a corner or street from a movie. There's also the people that live and work there - there's something just different about them. Something that Hoboken doesn't have.

You see, Hoboken has a great group of residents, but there's something very homogeneous about most of the town. The West Village has just a spectrum of people, and in some ways I get the feeling that many of them fall into three categories:

1. They are local & rich. This is the most popular person I see around the West Village. I walk around and see people between 25-45 just hanging out in their $500 Japan-imported distressed jeans, D&G sunglasses and well coiffed hair, with their dogs at the dog park or just sitting at a cafe and there's something different about them. They aren't on their lunch break and they aren't a rich tourist. They are definitely showing by the cut of their clothes and their expensive accessories that they are a "somebody" (or trying to be a somebody).

2. They are local & not rich. Sure, they may not have money, but the artists, dog walkers and ex-hippies that meander around are still just...interesting. I love to people watch, I could sit on a bench for hours and watch people pass by, look them over, and try to figure them out. They could be a working Joe like me, and just add to the flavor of the town. There's also a lot of kids around, which I didn't see so often in midtown Manhattan. There's a definite energy of the parents and kids vibe that I never really saw uptown.

3. They are a tourist. Lots of tourists walk around, you just can't escape them.

10 years ago I would have wrinkled my nose at the idea that Manhattan was so "special". I didn't get it. To me, what's the difference between the West Village and Hoboken which were seperated by a river? Heck, we could be the West West Village. On my lunch breaks, I walk along the river, by Pier 40, and I can see the Lackawanna Terminal and people on Pier A.

But I can say as much as Manhattan bug has bitten me, I won't be abandoning Hoboken anytime soon, I do look forward to exploring some of the bars and restaurants around my office in the West Village.

Anyone have some good places to check out?

I'm pretty excited about Villanova basketball each year, even if I don't really write about it that much.

It could be the only thing that I really liked about attending Villa-No-Fun.

Odd thing is that we all have our own version of how we see college, my experices were from 1990-1994.

See, for me, Villanova was a good educational institution, but forever marred by my social experiences there. I found 90% of the people to be stuck up snobby rich kids, with an elitist attitude that is somewhat similar to what we find with some yuppie Hobokenites.

I felt that the school treated their students like children, not adults. It was hard to party there, I remember sneaking beers into the male-only dorms and if we actually had girls at the party the RA (Resident Administrator) basically knew something was "up" and would start knocking on doors to break up the party.

Yes, i'm aware that now the dorms at Villanova are now co-ed.

Off campus, you were dependant upon your fraternity to party. I was in Delta Tau Delta, and I liked the brothers - we were an eclectic bunch of jocks, engineers, potheads and NROTC guys that loved to get hammered & goof off. Most of the sorority girls at 'Nova were a bit....cold. Except Delta Gamma, they were always the fun girls as I remember. Tri Delts and Kappa Kappa Gamma wouldn't give us the time of day.

So wouldn't you know it, I was bartending a few weeks back, and I get a couple of guys at the bar, and we are talking. One said he was from Philly....I mention my 'Nova connection, and they all perk up, giving me high fives - they were Villanova alumni.

We then get on the subject of fraternities, and wouldn't you know it....they are Delts, too.

More high fives and laughter.

They were younger than me. And I start to lay into Villanova, like I usually do, about the things I hated about it. The looks they give me are ones of "What? You didn't have FUN?"

I ask them, "Wait, you partied at...VILLANOVA?"

They are all like, "Hell yea. It was great!" They went on to tell me about some of the parties they had. I tell them a few stories of my own, like the time I decided to light my pants on fire.

Well, at least we all agreed that we enjoyed watching Villanova basketball.

This Friday i'll be over at Mulligan's watching Villanova getting trounced by Kansas at 9:40. Ok, ok. Maybe Villanova can pull the upset, but i'm a Philly fan, for crying out loud. We get miracles like once every 100 years, and the last one was in 1985 with Villanova vs Georgetown.

The guys from Bud Light emailed me to say that Mulligan's are having $2 pints, $10 Buckets & $8 Pitchers of Bud & Bud Light both Thursday & Friday nights during the games (7p-1am). That's always fun.

I always find the definition of self-worth fascinating, especially in a town like Hoboken.

The definition of self worth is basically the way that a person perceives themself, their social standing (importance) amongst their peers, based on various factors. Some factors are tangible, and some are intangible. Some people could care less, but in a fucked up town like Hoboken, I notice that a lot of people get caught up in making themselves feel important.

Like, for example, money is a barometer for many people as their definition of self worth. The more money someone has, the more important they feel. They buy nice clothes, and feel better about themselves. They buy an expensive car or a beautiful home. Surrounding themselves with luxuries isn't merely for the pleasure of ownership, but the psychological impact of owning it. Why buy a Rolex when a Citizen tells the same time? Or when someone buys a wedding ring for their fiance, they want to spend as much as possible to say "THIS IS HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU?" or is it really "THIS IS HOW MUCH MONEY I MAKE AND LET ME SHOW OFF YOU AS MY PRIZE". Shallow? Of course. How many women do you really know that will forgo an expensive wedding ring, and use that money with their soon to be husband towards their first house?

Another example is a power. Working for the city may not pay as much as someone on Wall Street, but there are perks to being connected in Hoboken, and the bloated egos that go along with it. You don't have to be rich, look at a police officer as an example. How many perks do you think a cop has in their life? At the recent St. Patrick's Day Parade, I heard that an off-duty cop from another county flashed a badge at a bouncer, in order to get their friend, who was waiting in line, into a bar. Think about that. In that police officer's mind - they were a cop and had MORE AUTHORITY than "regular people" to bypass the rules. How often do you think a cop gets a free pass from other police officers on traffic tickets or if they are caught on other minor infractions? Or the police, while off duty, are given free rounds at his local pub by nervous owners who want to keep the police "on their side".

There's people who don't have money, and they don't have power, but they define their self worth by other factors, like intelligence:

• "The Insider": There are various kinds of insiders, like the music insider, a cynical artsy emo-kid who knows every up-and-coming band on the music scene working at places like The Frozen Monkey, and feels superior to those "in the rat race". Or the political insider, who is privy to the "behind the scenes" world of politics and feels like his knowledge makes them more powerful. The "hipster insiders" are the people who go to Last Night's Party, hang out with Cobrasnake and are pals with MisShapes, sipping on their soy chai teas while looking at gawker.com.
  
• "The Professor": Super intelligent, bookish smart people who pat themselves on the back with their hefty IQ, and education. Some may have money or power, and some may not. Either way, they pride themselves in being smarter than everyone else. Maybe they went to an Ivy League school and will put down people with quips like, "I bet Joe on Wall Street didn't get a job like me because of years of {enter schooling here}, but because his daddy is a Director at Goldman." There's plenty of Professors that didn't go to great schools, or even have great jobs, but thrive on the IDEA that they are smarter than everyone else and therefore their self-worth is intact.
  
• "Street Smart Local Unionist": There's plenty of people out there who didn't get a great job, don't have a great education, mommy and daddy didn't get them a condo in Hoboken, and they don't have any city connections, but pride themselves on their street (or local) credibility. They sneer at the local yuppies, laugh at the Barry Bond HGH gym rats and don't know Gawker.com from GAP.com. They look at life like it's a war, and they have survived because of their quick thinking and scrappiness, working a job as an electrician, plumber, machinist, or construction - connected to other union types and other "organizations", if ya know what i'm gettin' at, cump.
  

Or maybe physical charms:

• "Steroid Guy": Probably has one of those tribal tattoos around their big bicep, lifts 7 days a week, probably at one point claims to have played high-school or college sports. They look down on others because of their superior strength, showing off their six-pack to people and feeling better about themselves.
  
• "The Beauty Queen": She's the ball of the dance who is working as a 1st grade kindergarten teacher or a secretary (oops, sorry, administrative assistant), who may or may not have a college education (even if she does, she really went to college to get a M.R.S. degree, but wouldn't admit that to anyone). She pride herself on her good looks, often reminding people about when she was a cheerleader or how many boyfriends she had in her youth. She feels superior even if she's not educated or has a good job, she knows she's better than YOU because she is (or was) pretty.
  
• "The Stud": Similar to the Beauty Queen, except defines his self worth by his sexual prowess, and probably working a job in sales or is a struggling actor (while working as a waiter). He prides himself on his boyish charm, good looks and ability to always pick up a girl at the bar. He may not be making a tremendous amount of money, but he sure gets lots of attention from women, which he loves.
  

So now if you take the above into account first, then, in Hoboken, there exists a certain hierarchy amongst the locals, the Born and Raised (BnR). Basically it goes like this:

1. Do you live in Hoboken, own a home and pay residential taxes.
2. Do you work or own a business in Hoboken (and pay commericial taxes).
3. How many years you lived in Hoboken.
4. Do you and/or other members of your family work for the City of Hoboken (i.e. City Hall, police, firemen, etc).
5. Were you were born and raised in Hoboken.
6. The number of generations your family has lived Hoboken.

What's the point to everything I wrote? Why do an exercise in trying to understand ego and self-worth?

I just find it fascinating, for starters. I will readily admit that I certainly fit into some of the criteria described above, I certainly pride myself on a decent job, my fitness and the fact I own a home. I don't write this entry to somehow act like i'm above all this, i'm not. I'm a human being with human insecurities, ego and failings.

The point to writing it was nothing more than an exercise in understanding our self. Maybe you are reading this and thinking "Furey is writing about me!" - yes and no. I'm writing about me, what I see from online local message boards, hear people talk about in the bar or just observe.

Think about when an arguement starts on a message board (like Hoboken411 or Hobokenchat) or even behind friend's back in email flaming. What are the common ways that people puff up their chests and boast their self worth. I always read things boasting or put downs:

"I have more money."
"I have a better job."
"I lived in Hoboken longer."
"I have had more boyfriends/girlfriends/lovers."
"They are a fat slob."
"They are an ugly short troll."

Yadda yadda yadda.

I'm sure that Hoboken isn't unique. I'm sure the definition of self worth doesn't end when you leave Hoboken for the Land Of Suburbia...the definition of self worth probably transfers from self-worth to "Family Pride". Where your kids go to school, what grades they get, are they on student council or play a sport...it doesn't end.

This year I decided to have a more low-key birthday get together to celebrate my 36th birthday. In years past I have done big parties at Dipper's or bowling at Bowl-Mor and drunken nights in NYC. I really just wanted to have a few drinks with a couple of friends at a local pub this year because with Dipper's closing down it seemed like more of my friends have scattered to their own local pubs. There isn't that "Cheers" kind of bar where everyone knows your name.

All of us always like Moran's, and it's a great Irish pub on 5th and Garden. I decided to go Friday night, Willie was playing guitar, and its always a pleasure to see Kevin behind the bar.

We get there around 9:30, and have a few drinks, laughs and stories to tell. The night was mostly uneventful until a girl friend of mine who we will call "Katie" taps me on the arm and says, "See that tall guy?"

I look over at the bar and there are three guys at the bar. One is short, a bit overweight and wearing a baseball cap with a caramel colored blazer. The second guy is the typical Hoboken guy - short, dark hair and looks like 10,000 other guys. The "tall guy" was very tall. He was at least 6'6, maybe 250 pounds, didn't look very athletic however, dark hair, dark eyes, probably Irish.

"Yea, so?", I reply.

"I was at another bar a few weeks ago and he and I were talkin'. We talked for about an hour, he was drunk, but so was I. Then, out of the blue, guess what he says? 'I bet you give great blowjobs.'"

"Wow, what a dick.", I say.

"Total creep.", she says, "I told him to fuck off, and he starts to apologize saying he was just kidding around. I ditched him after that. I can't believe I see him here again. Watch this."

Katie walks up to the bar, next to the tall guy, and orders another round of drinks. He looks over and immediately starts talking to her. I can't hear what is said, but they talk for about 45 seconds and she walks back to the table with our drinks.

"Well?", I ask.

"He tried to hit on me, again! I told him, 'Don't you remember me?', and he didn't. Then I reminded him about the blowjob story and he remembered. Said he was really drunk and sorry. Whatever.", she replied.

About an hour or two passes, and it is nearing 2 am. The guy with the baseball cap strikes up a conversation with Katie and sits down at our table. I went to the bathroom and come back to find that the tall guy sat at our table, talking. I sit down a bit irritated that this rude guy is at our table, but I guess he figured it was ok to sit down because the baseball cap guy was talking to Katie.

As I sat down there was already a conversation in progress and the tall guy was talking about how he would throw a punch at someone if they called him a bitch. No questions asked, he would punch them. I jump in saying, "I guess you don't like to be disrespected."

"That's right!", he blurts, "Someone calls me a bitch and they get a punch.", he slaps his fist into his open hand while saying it.

"How does it feel to disrespect her, then?", I said gesturing to Katie.

Tall guy, who definitely had a bit to drink, gets upset at me, glaring at me saying, "I told her I was sorry. You got a problem with that?"

"Yea, I do. It was rude.", I replied.

"Then lets step outside if you got a problem with that!", he says with a nasty grin.

Now, dear reader, this is the moment where I will stop, briefly, and explain the situation. I'm at Moran's, and it is 2am. I did have a bit to drink. Most of my friends are gone, with exception of Katie. There's the tall guy, the baseball hat guy and the non-descript Hoboken guy. Tall guy has about 2 inches and probably 20-30 pounds on me, if not more. He just called me out, no different than if someone did it in junior high.

There was a brief flash of fear in my mind, to be honest. I really didn't want to fight. I'm not a fighter, but I have been in scrapes over my years. Then again, I know this guy wasn't one, either. He may have been tall and outweighed me, but my gut instict said he was a pussy with a big mouth that got out of a lot of fights because he was 6'6 and 250 pounds. I mean, i'm 6'3 and 220 pounds and I know I got out of a lot of potentional fights because of my height.

But I wasn't about to back down.

"Fine, lets step outside.", I say back while Katie is trying to dissuade me from fighting him.

Tall guy shouldn't play poker, because his nasty grin turns into an impish one, like he is amused about this but I can instantly tell he didn't expect me to do this.

We walk over to the door, go outside and I tell him, "Ok, dude. Just hit me first. Start the fight, so that you are the one who is goin' to jail, not me."

He hestiates and stands a good 10 feet from me and says, I kid you not, "Put up your dukes."

Put up your dukes? Yea, okee....?

I wait for him to hit me, or even get close and he just stands there. Like I said, this guy wasn't interested in fighting me - it was clear that he didn't even expect me to do this.

"Ok dude, hit me.", I say to him and I point at my chin. In my mind, I just wanted him to start the fight so that I could start punching him without fear of a legal issue - I was just going to defend myself.

Chuck, the other bartender at Moran's, sees us outside and breaks it up saying, "Are you out of your mind? Get inside!"

Now Chuck has about zero tolerance for me, and I try, in my best non-drunk seriousness to explain what's going on but he doesn't even want to hear it. I get back inside and say to him, "Fine, just keep this loser out."

I get back inside and sit at the table with Katie and the baseball cap guy, and they asked what happened. I tell them and the baseball cap guy says, "That's good, because I don't think my buddy has thrown a punch in his life."

I really wasn't interested in fighting, I'm 36 for christ sakes, and way, way, way past the point where I should be getting into fights at a bar. I'm not proud of my actions, and writing this now, i'm a bit embarassed that I nearly got into a fight. But for all of my faults, it doesn't matter if i'm 36 or 76, I will always stand up for myself and my friends.

On Friday I was at work (Corporation X) and just walked in the door. I have a few projects that I work on, and one of them was to set up a Sun workstation. I had two 75 pound boxes to move around and they didn't have any handhold cutouts or anything to help with lifting. What I should have done was get someone to help, but me being dumb, I decided to lift them anyway.

Two quick points:

1. I was careful about not lifting with my back, and lifting with my knees. I was always very careful about this over the years.
2. The box shape was just too big, and to pick it up was the main issue, it had no good handholds.

My middle back twinged a bit, and I knew something was wrong. After an hour it stiffened up, and even typing at my desk was really difficult. Breating hurt. If I lifted my arms it hurt. I couldn't even concentrate on work. I got up, told my boss that I was going to the doctor.

I went to my sports medicine office uptown, after taking two Tylenol and they did a battery of therapies on me. They did electric stimulation, massage, chiropractic adjustment, and a ultra-sound on my back, which showed inflammation near the 7th & 8th vertebrae. The doctor gave me a muscle relaxer, and told me "It is going to get worse before it gets better."

On my way home, I called the bar, spoke to the owners and told them about my back. They covered my shift.

I went home and being stuck in my condo isn't really a terrible fate as long as my internet and cable are working. I played games, watched TV and slept - a lot. The muscle relaxer is crazy. I take the pill and about 45 minutes later it literally knocks me out.

My eyelids get droppy and next thing I know it is two hours later, with me either lying on the couch in front of the TV or me in front of my PC. It's like someone walks into my home, and hits me with a frying pan. I'm out!

Friday was not too bad, my back was sore. Saturday was worse, my back was very tight. Hot showers helped loosen the muscles. I also tried some stretching, using techniques from a book that my friend recommended, which was the Wharton Stretch Book. I feel a bit better, but not 100%.

Sleeping is difficult, because of the pain. It is like an isolated sharp pain, and on a scale of 1 to 10 i'd give it a 4 for the pain scale. Standing, i'm fine. Lying down hurts a bit. Sitting down i'm in a lot of pain. I guess it is because the spine curves and the compression on the muscle causes the inflammation to aggravate more.

I get a call Saturday night and it's Matt. He's at a bar. He tells me he's at my bar with his two cousins, his wife and a bunch of wife's cute girlfriends (one of his wife's past jobs was being a cheerleader for The Philadelphia Kixx). I tell him about my back and that i'm home and can't bartend and was in no condition to go out for a drink. Yes, i'm an idiot, but i'm not going to go out with my back in pain, and try to have a fun time. I won't have a fun time.

Sunday rolls around and things feel a bit better. But still my back nags, but i'm not in as much pain as Saturday. I don't have the spasms that I would get if I moved a certain way.

Monday morning rolls around and I call in sick. My back still hurts, and I know sitting at a desk for nine hours is just going to make things worse. I'm home today. I'm certainly open and willing to listen to your suggestions on treating back pain. I was thinking of buying a heating pad, because the hot showers make my back feel better, and I figured that would help with the pain. I'm going to try and do some stretches again today.

Last night I worked the Mikie Squared/Margarita's tables for 'A Taste Of Hoboken'. It is a charity event with tickets which cost $60 (or $80 if you want the Champagne event - a pre-party where champagne is served), which benefits the local YMCA.

A few thoughts from working last night:

1. In years past, the setting was in a smaller room, and the crowds more compact which made getting around difficult. With the size of the gym, it easily dwarfed those attending and make it very easy to get food.

2. There's no chance you leave hungry from event. The portions is just a sampling, but there's like 30 tables to sample!

3. Mikie's wasn't allowed to serve the sangria at the event, due to some restriction. I didn't think it was a Robert's conspiracy theory, and just shrugged and helped Margarita's and Mikie's serve samples.

4. I think the logistics of a sit down dinner would be much more difficult than just letting people wander around trying the food.

5. $60 can be expensive, but it is a charity event and, again, you don't go away hungry. I read negative comments about an event, and it makes me roll my eyes. A benefit is a bad thing? There's not enough food? There's not enough to drink? These are the same people who go drinking all night in NYC and spend $250, and people complain about spending $60? I sneeze and spend $60 around here.

6. I wouldn't spend the extra $20 for Champagne, the crowd at 7pm was moderate, at best. We were cleaning up before 9:30.

7. All the leftover food was donated to the homeless shelter.

8. I got to see a lot of people I know, quite a few local city council people, constitutents and Mike Jerrick made an appearance.

If i'm not working, i'll be attending the 2008 event. It's a great way to try various restaurants dishes and help the YMCA at the same time.

I've been bartending for about five years.

There have been good nights. Bad nights. Crazy parade days. Bad customers. Good customers. Wonderful tips. Slow shifts. Various tomfoolery.

Last Saturday was only what I could deem as a "Very troubling night."

It started off very normal. We had customers at the bar, but it was slow. Time crept by, and I was beginning to worry that our normally busy Halloween Spooktacular was going to be a bust.

Boy, was I wrong.

It was like someone turned on a light switch. It got busy all at the same time, around 10pm. Hordes of people started to come in. We had a DJ who was outstanding, but it was very, very loud. I had "regulars" who showed up at the bar, took one look at the enormous crowd, the loud music, and left. I don't blame them.

I was extremely busy. The same kind of busy that we have on St. Patrick's Day. Non-stop making drinks, lots of people drinking and even the manager & owner are behind the bar serving people. We had 5 people behind the bar at one point and were making drinks as fast as we could.

Here's a few choice moments of the night (read: annoying), with the best for last:

1. The place is jammed. Girl comes up asking for a "Watermelon Martini". I tell her we don't have that. She then starts to "think" a bit, rolling her eyes to the ceiling and says "ummmmm". I wait. I wait. I wait. The owner is right next to me, so I have to be nice. When the bar is going crazy, I just want to keep moving as fast as I can, and I can't say to her, "Bye!" with the owner there. I'm waiting for her and thinking how I want to reach across the bar and throttle her. For the record 99% of customers out there are considerate and good people. It's the 1% that really fire me up.

2. The customer who said, "There's not enough sugar on my lemon" when doing a lemon drop shot. Are you serious?

3. The comely girl who came in with a group of guys. She orders five shots of soco/lime, which were $2 each. She says, "Hey, this tasted a bit weak. How about two free shots for our group?" Are you fucking kidding me? Now, granted, she was fairly pretty (and i'm sure she knew it). Beauty gets you far in the world and five years ago when I was wet-behind-the-ears bartender I would have enjoyed her attention and poured her a extra shot. But now, i'm older, wiser, and have a cranky stomach. I smiled sweetly at her, and said, "You're cute. But you're not that cute." and served the next customer.

It's Halloween weekend!

If you are in the neighborhood, and out to have a good time, come to Mikie Squared at 616 Washington St. Last year was a blast, but I will sadly miss working with Francia in her schoolgirl outfit, of course.

I know Mikie's is doing the 1/2 priced drinks to those in costume, along with shot specials, prizes and they will have a DJ, with NO COVER AT THE DOOR. I expect it will be another busy night, so if you want to get in, i'd get to the bar early.

I do remember my first Halloween, I was Casper The Friendly Ghost. I remember being very excited about that costume, too. I also remember that the day of Halloween was really warm. Not sure why I remember that.

I also remember growing up all the warnings about getting apples with razor blades in them. It seemed like every year there was that stern warning about the infamous razor blades...in apples. Funny how times change, no one really even thinks to warn kids about that now because who gives out apples anymore?

I don't remember even getting any apples as a kid. I do remember our local neighborhood dentist would not give candy but gave out toothbrushes to all the kids. Toothbrushes.

Yes, on mischief night we would always target his house first. He had a white house, with aluminum siding and lots of egg stains.

I have noticed that at my old apartment on 6th and Garden that i'd rarely get kids stopping by. I really love Halloween, too. I will miss carving out pumpkins with the roommates.

What's your favorite candy?

That would be hard to pin just one down for me. I am an Aquarius, after all.

I think my #1 favorite would be M&Ms, chocolate or peanut. I just love that crunchy shell, and I like them cool, like they have been in a refrigerator all day.

100,000 bars are always welcome. I used to eat Sprees everyday at highschool. I would buy them at lunch, and have them hidden in my pockets to eat the rest of the day. Ooh, and chocolate covered pretzels are fantastic. If you have a chance go to Lepore's.

I'll see you this weekend!

I was on my way to work, going to the elevator.

I push the down button, and wait.

The elevator arrives, the door opens about 1/4 of the way, and then starts to shut.

I hear a woman's voice saying, "Whatt....?"

I quickly hit the down button again.

The elevator doesn't move. I don't hear it moving at all. I hear the woman pressing the buttons on her side and she says, "It's not opening...."

I wait a bit, then push on the outer door. It won't budge.

The girl starts to panic saying, "Oh my God. Oh my God. No."

I try to calm her down, but it really didn't work. I can hear her sobbing.

I get on my cell phone and call the police. They tell me they will call the fire department. The fire department arrives in about three minutes. The girl is on her cell phone sobbing to someone while the firefighters set up to open the door and get her out. Her husband/boyfriend arrives, just as they get the door open (with three people really working very hard to get it open). She gets out, thanks the firefighters and me. Also, to note, she was very pregnant. So now I understand why she was so frightened - I can only imagine the stress of being pregnant and then getting stuck in an elevator doesn't help. I'm sure images of her going into labor and stuck in an elevator flashed in her mind.

What impressed me the most was our city firefighters. First off, we take them for granted. If it wasn't for them, I would have been clueless what to do? Certainly I could have called the super, but there's no chance he and I could have done what they did. I was going to take a picture of them in action, but didn't think it was appropiate.

I was 45 minutes late for work, but what was I going to say to her, "Oh, sorry I have to go to work now, but the firemen are on the way..."

Well that way my excitement for the day, aside from my walk to work and witnessing NYC police busting two Crips near Greenwich Village. 5 police cars, and lots of onlookers.

Just another day in paradise...

With my new hours at Corporation X, everything is closed at midnight. I can't food shop, and most of the places to eat are fast-food junk. With my gym routine, I prefer to eat healthier, and I wrote the other day about being a picky eater (interestingly enough, I read an article later that day about eating habits in The New York Times).

So my issue is that I want to eat healthier foods when I can. I want fresh food. I don't want to shop each afternoon for whatever i'm in the mood for, and I had to figure out the best method to solving my issue with the technology out there today.

I started to do some research about spoilage. I read up about freezing and defrosting meat and how it affects taste. My original plan was to buy meat fresh, divide it into individual portions, freeze them seperately in ziploc, then getting home from work and defrosting it in the microwave and then using the George Foreman grill.

As I was doing my research I read about freezer burn, which is caused when air comes into contact with meat and it isn't dangerous, but i'm kind of particular about things like that. Remember my Italy story??

My next purchase was "FoodSaver Advanced Design V2860". The first reason is that I wanted to avoid freezer burn and keep my chicken or beef as fresh as I could. Then I also remembered a conversation I had with the owner of Court Street, and how he told me one of his restaurant secrets: he vacuum sealed all of his food when it was delivered and froze individual portions for each dish. Had been doing it for at least ten years, which allowed him to keep an expansive menu, deliver fresh tasting food and keep his expenses down.

Plus this allows me to make the larger meals (like ones from a cookbook, that in the past i'd just give the leftovers to my roommates) and save them with the FoodSaver. I usually dread leftovers, but everything I read about the FoodSaver has been positive, and perfect for my situation.

I'll write it up and let you know how it goes. Do any of you own a FoodSaver? Any tips?

I bought two new videogames. One is Half Life 2: The Orange Box. The Team Fortress looks incredible, and fun. The next game is a an expansion pack of my favorite game Sid Meyer's Civilization 4, Called "Civilization 4: Beyond The Sword".

Eagles won on Sunday. Ugly win. It's going to be a long season unless something miraculous happens.

I drank quite a bit on Sunday, and with my new work hours at "Corporation X", I thought it wouldn't be a problem to just have a fun day of drinking, football, and then sleep it off. Boy, was I wrong.

One of the things that sucks about getting older is that i'm probably in the best physical condition of my life, but my body is still 35 years old. I simply can't drink like I did 10 years ago, my recovery and "bounce back" isn't the same. I was hurting Monday, and going into work was terrible. I was hungover - tired, cranky and nauseous the entire evening, but with each passing hour I felt a bit better. I missed the gym on Monday and Tuesday. Very annoying. I might have to switch to beers on Sundays and a "no shot" rule.

"Might" being the key word, ya know...

I was reading The Jersey Journal, and I love reading that site almost as much as I love reading personal ads. I read the stories and just have a running commentary in my head as I read them and I figure i'd share that with you today. Here's the headlines for the last week, a quick synopsis and my comments at the end:

"Apology fails to head off pot arrest" : A Stevens Institute of Technology student apologized to a cop for "just smoking weed" after she threw a joint into the Hudson River Tuesday night, police said.

Comment: Never smoke weed by the waterfront, too many people - the back streets are where it's at and less cops around! Also, how the hell did you start a pot cloud that everyone could smell, who the hell were you smoking with, Bob Marley's ghost? Remember the lessons from the movie "Friday": "Puff, puff, give."

"Knocked out on Hoboken street": A man was knocked out cold yesterday morning after a shouting match on a city street, police said.

Comment: There aren't enough details here, but the few things that stand out in my mind:

1. The victim was yelling at a man, who was accompanied by a woman. Bad move. The attacker probably was more upset that someone was insulting him in front of his girlfriend and took action. If he was alone, he may have walked away.


2. Clean-cut bald man of average height and 200 pounds. Any guy who shaves his head bald is usually losing his hair and they are very angry about that to begin with. Also bald guys think of themselves as tough guys, and will be more prone to fight than walk away.


3. The victim, who admitted to cops having downed five drinks, did not know what had happened to him or what day it was, but did know his name, police reports said. Fucking amateurs! Five drinks and you get clobbered?! Not only were you stupid enough to pick the fight with the angry bald guy and his girlfriend, but you can't hold your drink and you got clowned in front of Texas Arizona. Nice job, idiot.

"Company laptop reported stolen in park": A New York businessman reported his laptop stolen from Columbus Park at around noon on Friday, police reports said.

Comment: People, people, please. You are in Hoboken, not Nebraska. "He told cops that he stepped away from his bag for a couple of minutes and when he returned the computer had vanished, police said." - you deserved to lose that laptop, dumbass.

"Hoboken starts construction on its own for vets memorial": The construction of the Hoboken World War II Memorial is finally under way - and veterans are thrilled.

Comment: All three of them are thrilled.

I kid! I kid! I have been recording, on my Tivo, Ken Burns "The War" and highly recommend it. It definitely gets me emotional when watching some of the footage and frankly amazed at what our troops did during the war. Interestingly enough, you also really get to see propaganda in action for the U.S. - we take our freedoms (especially of speech & the press) for granted today. There was ZERO free press during World War II.

"2 men charged in assault in Hoboken bar": A man was attacked Friday night at a city bar and may need plastic surgery, according to police reports.

Comment: I'm sure the victim started with: "Hey! Did you make fun of my capri pants? They are very much in fashion, along with my "Christian Audigier" and "Ed Hardy" shirts!!"

I don't know any locals who go to East LA. Walk by there on a Thursday or Friday and it looks like someone built an underground tunnel to Jersey City or East Orange and started the Underground Guido Railroad. I blame the victim in this case for going to East LA in the first place. Also learn a lesson here. If you ever are dumb enough to get into a fight, just use your fists. Breaking a bottle, using a chair, any object used will add about 2 years jail on top of an assault charge. Of course i'm sure both the victim and attackers were stone cold sober.

"Arrest after nasty end to cab ride": A taxi passenger who racked up a $50 fare from Manhattan Saturday assaulted a cop after two officers tried to help the driver collect the fare, police reports said.

Comment: You older readers know about my taxi rules in New York from my Quirks Of Hoboken entry, but maybe the newer readers need a refresher course. I can get from 72nd Street in Manhattan to Hoboken for $35 at 4am in NYC. How? Each cab comes up and you slur "I need to get to Hoboken and I only have $35!" they say "NO! $50!" you say, "Sorry, I don't have that much..." and slowly walk away looking for another cab and repeat. Either the cabbie drives away, or says "Ok, ok. Fine. $35."

Of course this clown was drunk and full of pride. Hiding in a boiler room? Nice. Your roommate paying $30 and you $18? Yep, you must be doing real well for yourself. Lunging at the cabbie in front of the cops? Awesome! Hitting a cop with your elbow? Well, have fun in prison, you tool.

"Crack charge after evidence swallowed": A man was arrested on cocaine charges after swallowing the evidence Sunday morning, police said.

Comment: I read this and I always think about what will happen to this criminal. Thrown into prison, and how is that helping? I'm not a bleeding heart liberal, and I know plenty of people who have the "lock them up and throw away the key attitude". I just think that prisons should be created for each type of crime: Violent crime Prison (murder, forcible rape, robbery, aggravated assault, and simple assault), Property Crime Prison (burglary, larceny, theft, motor vehicle theft, arson, shoplifting, and vandalism), Public Order Crime Prison (a bit more vague, but basically targets addicts, prostitutes & other public order crimes). Why? Well if someone steals a car and you throw them into a cell with a 250 pound rapist or murderer - we are not creating someone who exits prison as a reformed person, but as something even worse when they get out.

I was at the bar on Saturday, it was early and not many customers were there.

In walks a cute blonde haired girl, sits down alone at the bar.

She orders a Absolut Mandarin, with selzer and a splash of cranberry. She asks for it while talking on her cell phone.

I get her drink, and talk to some other customers, while I hear her chatting on her cell. Remember: Bartenders can hear just about everything you say.

"Nah, I don't want to see him, but what can you do?", she is muttering on her phone.

She talks some more and hangs up, sipping her drink. My customers step outside to eat at an outdoor table, since there are only a few more good weeks left that they can do this.

I roll over to the cute blonde and say, "So, where's the boyfriend?"

She's cute. The type of cute that says she has a boyfriend or the kind of cute that doesn't stay single for very long.

She looks up from texting on her cell phone, smiles and says, "How'd you know I had a boyfriend?"

"Intuition, I guess. Been bartending long enough to know a few things.", I replied.

"Well he just got in from Florida today and wants to have dinner...", she says sullenly.

"Sooo...what's wrong with that?", I ask.

"He wants to TALK, ya know? Sit at dinner and talk for a few hours. What do I want to talk about? I want to go out, see my friends and have some fun!", she says.

My brain immediately jumps to the book, "He's just not that into you..."

"Ok, let me get this straight. Your boyfriend has been out of town, just got back in, wants to see you for dinner, and you aren't excited about seeing him? Come on. You can't be that interested in him! What gives? Why you dating this chump?"

She grins and rubs her thumb to her index and middle finger, and says with a shrug, "He's got money."

As guys that is something that we all grouse about women. That women just want to date rich guys and certainly PLENTY of women I know do not, I repeat, DO NOT care about money.

But you do know that just as many women who protest that they don't want to date rich guys there are a whole segment of other women out there who aren't going to complain if they have a boyfriend who makes bank.

Much like men aren't going to complain if they find a woman with a great personality, wonderful job AND STUNNING GOOD LOOKS.

When she told me this, she saw me roll my eyes and replied, "I know. I know. I'm goin' to hell."

I said, "You better be careful with that, honey. Karma is a boomerang. Just dating some guy because he has cash and you don't really like him, it will bite you in the ass someday. You'll meet a great guy and get played right back."

She says, "Oh, I hear ya, but i'm twenty-two, ya know? I want to have FUN. Not get serious!"

I ask how old her boyfriend is, fully expecting he's going to be 38.

"He's twenty-five.", she says.

"How much money we talking here? He's only twenty five, can't be making that much...", I ask.

"He gives me everything I ask for.", she says.

"So how long will you keep dating him?", I ask.

She shrugs again. "I want to go on a caribbean vacation in a few months, so I will have him pick that up. Also don't want to miss out on his presents for me during the holidays, either. So maybe in March, when the weather gets nice."

Sad to think that there's some guy out there dating this piece of trash and doesn't even know he is getting played.

I have worked in restaurants since I was twelve, working various jobs and have learned what is important to customers when they enter a restaurant – the feeling that they are being taken care of and are important to that establishment.

This shouldn’t be a great revelation. I’m certainly not parting any wisdom upon anyone who also has worked in any aspect of the restaurant – from the cooks to the dishwashers to the barback to the waiters to the bartenders – the customer is what comes first, and –within reason- should be always attended properly. I’ve worked in greasy spoon diners, chain-restaurants, and family owned establishments. The mantra has always been the same.

I also think that by working in such a profession, it also gives me a different attitude when I am the customer. I rarely get upset with wait staff, especially if they are very busy. I usually don’t send back food to the kitchen, I will speak to the manager afterwards about it. I will always tip 20%, unless I got unsatisfactory service and will tip 15% (I don’t agree with 0% tip, everyone can have a bad night), and then speak to the manager or owner about it after my meal.

Some employees don’t care. They are just there, making the shift pay and expect their tip – instead of working for it. Some make honest to goodness mistakes, and they need to respond appropriately to correct the error.

Case in point is a local restaurant a few blocks my condo. I’m not going to call it out on my blog, but lets just say it is a Hoboken-owned business, with about 3-4 wait staff and about 20 tables inside and outside. They get very busy, especially for brunch, and often have people waiting outside for tables very often on the weekends.

I have been there for brunch about twelve times in the last four months. The wait staff are in their early 20’s and nice enough. The owner is a nice guy, I’ve chatted with him a few times. The food they have isn’t terribly expensive, it’s close to my home and I like what they serve.

The only problem I have had lately is that the service has been spotty. Most days I get there, I don’t have a major problem. But here’s what happened last week.

I got to the restaurant, and it was 80% full. No one was outside, and one of the waiters handed me a menu and told me I could sit anywhere. So I grabbed a paper, sat down, mulled over the menu for a moment, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

No one approached me. I watched other people get served. I watched the same waiter to told me to sit, talk to the table next to me for a good five minutes. I read my paper while this was going on, and thinking, “Surely someone will come up to me soon.”

No one did....read what happens next...

If you were someone close to me, you would know that I have been very bored at my corporate job. Extremely bored. I was getting to a point where I was starting to think about what I was going to do next. Leave my job? That just wasn't terribly practical, since I have a mortgage now, and do actually enjoy many of the benefits of "Corporation X".

Some of the benefits were a good salary (taking into consideration workload + effort = salary), decent benefits (healthcare, 401K, and free perks) and reputation (working here for 13 years - I know a shitload of people, know the internal system better than most people, and just have a hard-working reputation with many department employees and heads of departments).

It's hard for me to just walk away from that.

But it's also hard for me to work just anywhere. As a child I was diagnosed in 1977 with hyperactivity. At the time, doctors didn't call it "Attention Deficit Disorder", or ADD. They just told my parents to keep me off sugar and also suggested a new drug called "Ritalin".

My parents knew of another child on Ritalin, and they didn't like what it did to him. It made him like a zombie. They knew I could be a bit out of control, but used discipline, love and patience instead of turning to drugs to "fix" me.

I was never fixed, I still had to live with this my whole life and I did figure out a few tricks to make my life easier.

One trick I learned, was in high school, when I studied a subject that I didn't like.

In classes that I enjoyed (literature, history, social sciences)- I always got "A's" and "B+'s". I wasn't just passionate about the subject, I would immerse myself in it. I would find that my intense curiousity, coupled with desire to learn would just make everything easy.

In classes that I dreaded (math, physics) I would just fail. I would grow bored and sketch in my notebook for 45 minutes. Stare out the window. Do ANYTHING to occupy my mind with something interesting. It was like pulling teeth to sit in these classes. I would squirm in my chair, and daydream.

I soon learned that if I broke up studying for a subject - 30 minutes studying, then 15 minutes of "breaks" (like bouncing a ball off a wall), I was able to beat my concentration issues and focus on the subject at hand. I found that I could trick my brain - keeping my interest fresh in the subject by just breaking up a 2 hour study period into a 3 hour period, with four 15 minute breaks.

Life today isn't much different for me, when working in corporate life.

If I am at Corporation X and working on something I enjoy - i'm on fire. I also do very well when I have a job that has many, many tasks, with me constantly engaged. I'm much better working on a variety of jobs, and I excelled when I worked in the technical support department, because everytime i'd pick up the phone I had a different task to troubleshoot. It kept me fresh and interested, but the downside was that I hated getting angry customers on the phone. I eventually hated that job, only because by the end of the day I would be drained of all energy. I was happy to leave that department and try something new.

I worked in various departments, learning new things. But, like my personality...I would grow bored if it wasn't something that I felt was interesting and challenging.

The department that i'm in now was a good fit for me, it presented itself in an odd way - the COO (Chief Operating Officer) of the company, at the time, asked me to transfer in to the department, because they needed a boost from someone that had my background. I was flattered and excited to contribute. Things were good...but I think my growth got derailed a bit. The COO left the company. Her plan for me was in her head, i'm sure, and a new COO was never replaced! They just had department heads reporting to a CEO, instead of a COO.

I languished a bit, and even got into some management reponsibility. I quickly realized that management was really hard if you weren't a great "people person". I'm not great at that. I'm more like a military guy - do what I say, get the job done. It works with some people, but other people felt I was abrasive. I was removed from doing that after about a year, which I had mixed feelings on. Part of me wanted to be in a leadership role, but another part just was happy to be left alone and troubleshoot by myself.

Ok, so why am I writing all this?

Looks like another change in my life. Starting on Monday i'm switching roles, moving to the downtown Network Operations Center (NOC), and my life is taking another direction for the better. I worked in the uptown NOC before, and know a lot of the people i'm working with. The work I will be doing is more technical, but also very varied, which is something that my hyperactive head needs. They suggested that I would need to start up with getting my CCNA (which I did start to study for just before I switched to my current department).

It's a big move. I think it is also a good opportunity, with exposure to a lot of technical development, which is good for my value to Corporation X - and not to mention my resume if I were ever to leave. Also at our Corporation, people don't move around so much, lots of people just sit in the same department for years and years - and become a dinosaur. They know what they know, but don't learn new things and don't enhance their self worth. I feel like this will be something that will make me even more well rounded and also jumpstart my interest in coming to work again.

One cool thing is that my new office is its near Christopher Street. My commute each day will be walking to the PATH (which is like 5 minutes), taking it from Hoboken to Christopher Street (1 stop - 7 minutes), and walking 5 minutes to the office on West Street. I'm very, very excited about that alone - since my current commute takes from 45 minutes to an hour to get uptown (Hoboken to 34th and then the subway uptown).

I'm excited for the change, looking forward to something different. This may also affect the blog a bit, since my updates might be not as frequent - it was always easier to pen my thoughts when I was sitting bored at work.

I woke up this morning at 5am, with a booming sound, which I first thought was a bomb.

That's the thing that sucks about living in a post 9-11 world. I'd hear thunder as a kid, and it was just thunder.

I hear these sounds now, roused from a slumber and the first thing I think is, "Was that a bomb?"

I guess score one for the terrorists.

When my alarm went off, and I was getting ready for work I got a text message, "Get ur canoe this am" from Matt.

I step outside, and get to see my new waterfront property:

Yesterday there was a report on NJ.com about NJ Transit investing $10 million in a new sewer system on Observer Highway, which should alleviate this flooding. Only issue I have is that no one - NO ONE - does anything in Hoboken for generousity. Its pure "Quid Pro Quo" - This for that.

Those that have been watching City Hall know that NJ Transit has been jonesing to build new Newport-sized buildings near the rail yard for mixed use residential/commercial occupancy. The citizens are completely against this, and some of the newer members of City Hall have opposed such construction by NJ Transit.

I just hope something happens soon.

Edited to add: Hey looks like it's already invented. :(

Ok, here's my current million dollar idea.

I get them all the time.

One of my biggest issues is food. I'm a finicky eater. Just very picky when it comes to what I like and I would, at times, simply not eat, even when hungry, than eat something i'm not in the "mood" for.

With my gym routine back in full effect, i'm cooking for myself more. Nothing super fancy, but there's only so many times I want steak. Last night I made chicken fajitas. It turned out very well, and was simple to make. I wanted to make a fajita marinade with the chicken and decided to wing it. I used to get the chicken stir fry kit from Fresh Direct. It's great, but the problem with Fresh Direct is that basically everything you buy is fresh and goes bad in 3 days.

That doesn't work for me very well. Like I said, i'm picky with food. I don't know what I will want to eat tonight. I will know in about 6 hours what i'm in the mood for. I have friends who cook up entire batches of chicken on Sunday and eat it everyday for lunch with their brown rice. Every. Day.

That would be like a death sentence for me. I'm a fan of variety. I certainly have my favorite foods: Chicken with Broccoli, Virginia Baked Ham, Filet Mignon steak (medium rare) and of course: LAMB!

Inside joke on the "Lamb".

Anyhow, what does this have to do with my topic idea? Ok, somehow take a cookbook and then make it an iPod file. Let's say i'm at the gym. I'm are coming home and want to make something fresh and delicious.

Open the iPod, go to "Cookbook" choose type: "Chicken", and skim thru the recipies. Look over the ingredients and on my way home, I shop at the food store (or I may have some of the ingredients at home).

Often I find that I get home from the gym and then going BACK out to shop for food sucks. Like I wrote yesterday once I get home, the motivation drains from me.

But if, on my way back, I knew EXACTLY the portions I needed to buy, then i'm set.

Oh, I forgot to mention - i'm not a cook that can just throw items into a pan and make something great. I'm excellent if you give me a recipe that has portions & temperature settings & times. My ex-roommates can attest to my recipe prowess.

So why don't *I* make this idea millions for myself?

Oh, i'm the typical Aquarius. I dream up these ideas. For all I know this one could be in existance (i'm fully expecting someone to post a comment: "ALREADY INVENTED!")

And for the record, someone came up with my dog rental idea in San Fran.

Editied to Add #2: Ok, the idea above is a cookware maker for your ipod - basically add your recipies to an IPod...now if I can come up with a bunch of great recipies and sell those....millions....well, ok maybe not millions...

Been going back to the gym again, after being on haitus since April. I'm a man of routines. Not like obsessive compulsive routines, but moving to the new condo did screw up with my routine. I kept putting off going back to the gym, thinking i'd use the gym in the condo. I didn't. I would get home and then find something to do rather than going to work out in the condo gym. I realized that the only way to motivate myself to working out was that i'd have to stop at the gym on my way home from work. Once I get home - I was done. I had zero motivation to leave and go back to a gym.

Talked to some people who know about working out for some advice. One friend told me that they would do cardio 5 days a week (Monday - Friday), their metabolism shot up, and they were burning calories when they didn't exercise.

I'm trying to find a happy medium. I did for a good year (like 2005) a strict diet & exercise program, but I was miserable. I would look at food packages, avoid sugars (hard to do when you drink alcohol) and really felt like I was developing a minor eating disorder. I would feel "guilty" when eating the wrong foods. Like some slices of pizza or Milano cookies.

I couldn't do that anymore. My life was steamed chicken & brown rice. My personality is one that gets bored easily and if I don't mix up things, like food, I will get bored eating the same thing over and over. I need variety in my diet. I want to eat healthy & allow for that slice of pizza (or three!) from time to time. I figure with going to the gym 5 days a week and doing treadmill/ellipitcal each day it will help get my metabolism up and burning more calories than I consume. I'll let you know the results.

So i'm back to cooking for myself again. Trying to make new, easy dishes that taste good and aren't calorie busting.

Know any good cookbooks? I was thinking about getting The Abs Diet by Men's Health. I have about 8 other cookbooks at home, but some aren't healthy enough for my needs - especially the Italian ones!

In the last year bartending every Saturday has been different. I have had some really busy nights and some really slow nights. Every bartender wants to be busy. When we first started a year ago, the owners had a barback and a bartender who worked with me on Saturdays. Over the last year the management learned that summers usually are dead weekends, and due to my Saturday night co-worker quitting, they didn't get a replacement right away and I was the only bartender on Saturdays. I had no problem with this, and figured that Saturdays would be quiet over the summer, so it wasn't a big deal.

Last Saturday we had a private party of about 35 people. They paid $35 each, for a 4 hour open bar with well drinks (the basic vodka, gin, rum & tequila)
& select beers (Smithwicks, Coors Light, Yuengling drafts and most domestic bottles). It started out well. The bar was still open while the party went on, so I had to serve the private party and my waiters alone. That same night was a local festival in town, and at 11pm it ended...and everyone came to the bar.

It went from "really busy" to a crowd 3 deep waiting for drinks - with just me behind the bar.

I'm fast enough, but not this fast. The private party was just knocking back drink after drink. The festival drinkers would come up with things like "Give me 20 soco & lime shots" or "I'll take 5 car bombs" or "Can I have a Long Island Iced Tea, One Mojoto, One "weak" Cosmo."

Imagine the last order when you have a crowd of people waving dollars at you to buy drinks and I have to make three labor intensive drinks - which I don't care about MAKING the drinks, I care because such drinks take a long time to make and they will slow me down from making other people their drinks in a busy bar. I'm a people pleaser, I want to make the customers happy and get stressed if I feel like i'm not serving them fast enough. I would explain to everyone who were trying to get my attention while I am making the drinks "Yes, I see you. I know you want a drink. I will make these as fast as I can and get to you..."

I was helped out by the floor manager for a bit at 11pm and even the owner showed up and started to help out at midnight. There was a good 45 minutes where all three of us were making drinks non-stop, and still couldn't keep up. The cool thing about working there is that even when the owner & manager jump behind the bar, they are doing it to help. I know a lot of other owners in town who "bartend" (I use this term loosely) and really throw around a few drinks when it's busy and talk to their customers, play darts or pool, then split the tips with the bartenders who did the majority of work. They don't do that at my bar, and I respect them for it.

We weren't expecting this. We knew about the party, but we assumed it was going to be a casual Saturday night with about 40 people in the bar, and the service bar (the waiters order drinks for their tables, and I make those, too). I can do that alone. But it was like "The Perfect Storm" when the festival ended, and it turned into a mob scene around 10:30-11pm.

Here's some highlights (or lowlights?), a Top 5 for last Saturday...

Here's a link to some of the pictures I took at dawn in Ocean City, NJ.

Some came out better than others and i'm still learning a bit with my hobby. I definitely need to get a tripod, but hate the bulkiness of it. Thinking about trying out the Gorillapod, but worried about putting a very expensive SLR on to a $55 tripod