420 Summit

For a friend

See, a wee bit o’ paradise waiting for you.

Didn’t believe I really watered them, did you?

8 days ago

A Good Man

A little while back I was at the corner store buying something or other — I was drinking hard at the time so it could have been damn near anything — and noticed a homeless dude lurking near the entrance. This guy wasn’t one of the borderline; maybe homeless, maybe mentally ill or maybe just really dirty. He could have been in a movie. Mismatched gloves, three coats and the hem of a second pair of jeans sticking out from beneath the first over a pair of worn boots held together with duct tape.

I am not without empathy but there are just too many people in need and I dread the inevitable, “Got any change, a cigarette, an extra pair of socks, scrap metal?”

Click image to enlarge.

But he didn’t ask for anything. He just nodded a good morning and smiled. I bought whatever it was I was buying and got a couple of dollar scratch-off tickets. I ended up giving him one on my way out — just because he didn’t ask.

I headed up the block towards the park, which is a park only by the loosest definition. This is not a place children place. Jerry Burell park is more a twenty-four seven flea market of vice. You can buy anything there: drugs, guns, women, men who want you to think they are women. You can rent a stolen car for a small rock or buy an iPod for a few more. There are swings but they don’t have seats. There is a water fountain that the city won’t replace because, as they put it, water fountains are expensive and they never last more than a few days. There is a shack that may, or may not, have bathrooms in it. Nobody knows since the door hasn’t been opened in a decade and is actually welded shut. The ground, under the slide is littered with little square baggies — each representing a missed school lunch, an unpaid utility bill or a victim. All the baggies are torn on one side and inside out. A wasted day, or life, is of little consequence but God forbid the most minuscule particle of dope should go to waste.

This is a park I like to avoid. Three daylight shootings in less than a year tend to get my attention and it isn’t as though our local gangbangers are particularly good shots. Although I lived on the block and was fairly well known, liked even, I see no reason to tempt fate. So the last thing I want to hear, passing the ‘pavilion’, are rapid footsteps coming up behind me. It makes me nervous.

Seeing it was my homeless buddy, I relaxed a little. I figured I could handle someone who hadn’t eaten more than a Little Debbie or two or slept for more than a few hours at a stretch in a week. Nonetheless, I checked his hands but only saw paper. As it turns out, the lottery ticket had hit for twenty bucks and he wanted to give me half.

Looking back, with somewhat clearer vision, it dawns on me that I want what this guy, someone that people cross the street to avoid or step over without a thought had. Integrity.

And no, I didn’t take the money but sure wished I had when I ran out of booze a few hours later.

78 days ago

One more Monday

At the stroke of seven-thirty the snow blowers start.

Like Olympians… they’re synchronized.

207 days ago

Winter blues

My son buried his friend today.

Justin, an apparently healthy thirteen year-old, died of a heart attack late last week. His service was today. Because Nicholas wasn’t in school last Thursday and Friday, he missed out on the collective grieving process and only found out when a mutual friend called to discuss transportation to the funeral. A funeral we didn’t know was going on.

There are better ways to break the news to a kid. While not ‘best’ friends, these guys spent a few years together and Justin, along with his twin brother, paved the way for my country mouse in the heart o’ the ‘hood. Nicholas admired his good cheer, quiet authority and common sense.

Tonight, when he finally settled down, Nicholas announced that he wanted to pay his respects by copying what he liked most in his friend. Rather than dwelling on his sense of loss he said he wanted to make something in himself better.

I thought that was pretty cool.

222 days ago

Dad is grouchy

Ask me how I spent my day? Go on, I dare you.

No?

Okay, I’ll tell you anyway. I spent the day trying to fix the damage that an incompetent nitwit, displaying the judgment of a micro encephalitic snail, did to my life with a single phone call. I am, in equal parts, embarrassed and livid.

Heads are going to roll. Hell, rolling, even on skateboards, isn’t enough. They are going on pikes. In front of City Hall. Covered in honey and bees. On fire.

Last week my thirteen-year old bruised his back roughhousing with his friends at school. Nothing unusual there. The boy is cavalier with his body and cuts and bruises go with the territory. My guys are 13 and 15 and, shall we say, active. They skate, jump, climb, ski and bike along with doing all sorts of scary shit I don’t even want to know about. If you want to find a good thirty-foot jump off a cliff, anywhere in central New York, just ask them. They terrify me on a daily basis and I don’t like being on a first name basis with ER staff in three counties, but I’m not taking their boards and bikes away.

I did take the archery gear, but that’s a different story.

So, doing her job, this school nurse called to express her concern. As well she should. I thanked her and said that I would evaluate the injury and take appropriate action.

Yeah, he had a bruise, but after spending the next four days playing ball and raking leaves, he said he didn’t feel a thing. The bruising had all but vanished so I merrily him off to school. Seemed the thing to do. You know, since there was nothing wrong with the kid.

Yesterday, the school nurse pulled him out of class and asked him if he had received medical care.

He hadn’t — since there was nothing wrong with him.

Are you sensing a theme?

The nurse then returns him, without ever looking at his back, to class. Then she promptly picks up the phone and calls CPS (Child Protective Services) to file a neglect complaint against me.

Last night, a couple of polite — though bulky — gentleman show up at my door and want to play twenty questions. Bring it on. I know my rights and I know the system. That’s not the issue. These guys are doing their job and will figure it out. Or they can bite me. Six of one, half-dozen of the other.

However, I now have a child abuse allegation kicking around in the county database. To put it mildly, this does not thrill me. In the decade that I have had sole custody of my children never has anyone, even my ex and her seemingly endless crop of attorneys — I swear, she must have a lawyer tree — questioned my fitness as a parent. It just doesn’t happen.

At least not until now.

So: I lose a day of work, am embarrassed in my home while dining with friends, provide my lunatic ex with some ammo and get to make new friends in the law enforcement community. Because of spite. That’s all it is. This newbie nurse had a tantrum and messed with my life because I dared to disagree with her ‘professional opinion’.

Well, lady, I have news for you. I have been a first responder and around the medical field since you were trying on training bras. I have forgotten more pediatric emergency medicine and first aid than you have ever known.

I, and I alone, will determine when or if my children need medical attention. I’m not an idiot so I’ll seek the counsel of those whose opinions I respect — no, your not on the list — and then make an informed decision about what is best for my child. I’m a parent. I get to do that.

According to the St. Claire’s ER doctor, that I will now owe a weeks pay to, I am not the first parent you have pulled this on. But I may be well be the last.

Note: since this was written I have met with the school administration. The nurse, who was in the building, could not manage to find five minutes to join us. Maybe she will find time for the superintendents meeting.

232 days ago

Specificity

From the NWS:

A chance of snow before 8am, then a chance of snow and freezing rain between 8am and 10am, then a chance of rain and snow between 10am and noon, then a chance of rain and sleet, mainly between noon and 1pm.

Now I can plan my morning.

250 days ago

Counting heads in the 'hood

Schenectady is doing a tax reassessment — nothing new for one of the highest taxed areas in the country — but this one comes with a twist. The Data Collectors, who are expected to ‘survey’ every home in the city, are mandated reporters.

In New York, mandated reporters who fail to report neglect or mistreatment can not only be prosecuted for a Class A misdemeanor but can be sued in civil court for monetary damages. This might make one err on the side of caution and it will be interesting to see if the city and county have the wherewithal to actually investigate any complaints, and there will likely be many, they receive.

While I’m all in favor of protecting children something about this procedure strikes me as being a little big brotherly and ripe for abuse. Our police department is not exactly known for it’s integrity and I can easily see them strolling down the hall to the clerks office, mentioning their interest in a given dwelling and suggesting they send out the big scary ex-cop Data Collector dude. The definition of neglect is pretty vague and it wouldn’t be hard to establish ‘good faith’. At that point it’s just a matter of a quick, mandated, call and they have their access.

It would seem to me that people trained to measure lots and count bedrooms may not need, or even desire this added responsibility and are always free, like anyone else, to file a report whenever they see fit.

304 days ago

You get what you get

So, here’s the plan.

The lovely town that I seem to have landed in, Schenectady, has a terrible city website. It’s absolutely useless and I couldn’t even figure out when my kids start school. Nevermind legislation or really important stuff. It just ain’t there.

A sensible person would take all this taxpayer funded free data, present it in a logical way, and, you know, make it useful. Bus, school and garbage schedules all in one handy place.

Genius. I say, genius!

People might want to know when to take the fish out of the kitchen or when to leave the kiddies on the corner. Bus routes. AA meetings. Adult bookstores or good carpet cleaning. It’s a wild, wild world and people should be able to get it on. Or find it out. At their convenience.

Who knows what people might want to know?

You know who doesn’t, the City of Schenectady.

The only other show in town seems to be something called, Schenectady’s Virtual Internet Community? This site, while active, seems to consist of little more than a forum with some sort of cobbled on portal. It was hard to register, hard to find anything and not all that attractive.

I can do better, and think I shall. I need a project and I need some work. I’ll just invent both.

350 days ago