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Tag Archives: Mets
Part one of this story can be found here.
It was August, and after dropping a number of hints that I was unhappy being the children’s waiter, I was finally promoted to the main dining room, but as a busboy. In retrospect, I assume that my locally powerful uncle had something to do with getting me the promotion. In any case, I was glad to be rid of the spoiled brats.
It turned out that bussing the tables in the main dining room was no picnic either. The Granit, like many hotels in the Catskills at that time, was strictly Kosher. Breakfast was always a dairy meal. Lunch would alternate between meat and dairy, and dinner was always meat. One of the most popular items on the lunch menu was borscht. To this day I’ve never tasted it, but at the end of a long day, my shirt sleeves were stained red from carrying the busboxes that were half filled with sloshing leftover borsht. (more…)
In the next few week’s it’s going to be hard to avoid the fact that it has been 40 years since the Woodstock Music & Arts Festival tracked its muddy footprints into history. I’ve been speculating that the 40th anniversary needed to be a big deal because it was likely that by the 50th, there would be no one left who was there. Personally, I didn’t make it to Woodstock. But the summer of 1969 was one of the most important in my life…so much so, that I’ve been considering trying to put it in a screenplay. But given that I have many other obligations, I may have to settle for this blog. (Hey Schamus, when do you find time to write?)
In the winter of 1968-69, I was in my sophmore year of high school and my parents announced to me that we were moving from Chicago, where I had spent my formative years, (more…)
I know it’s considered bad form to wish bad things on anyone…but I suppose everyone has their exceptions. For me it’s Republicans and the New York Mets.
Why the Mets? As we all know, our team affiliations are formed when we are young, and my formative years were spent in Chicago. These things become ingrained in ways that are unexplainable. Why are our emotions so wrapped up in what team we root for? In my case, being a Cubs fan became entangled in something far larger.
In 1969, I was just beginning to make friends at a new high school when my parents announced that we were moving to New Jersey. (more…)