All in Drinking
I’ve been in a lot of bars in my life (oh, stop bragging, Al) and even worked in a few of them. The best bar I’ve ever went to and worked at was Mary’s Husband’s Pub in Belmar, NJ. Now if you think working at a bar that you loved would be fun…
...you’d be wrong.
A family wedding, would be mobsters, and what really happened during World War One?
We may never know.
I’ve been writing this blog for nearly fifteen years. In that time, I’ve had little contact with my readers. Some people leave comments, and some have sent emails, but mostly they read and move on.
I believe there are rules of etiquette that are ingrained, or embedded, by some long-forgotten moments in time that we follow throughout our lives.
It’s the end of October, outside my window the leaves have changed, the nights come quick, so what better time to talk about a shore house my friends and I rented during the summer of nineteen-seventy-nine in Seaside Heights, New Jersey.
A few days before the fourth of July I received a text message from my son, Alexander. That in itself could be joyful or suspicious. He wanted to know if I could meet him on Friday (the fourth) after he played golf, he wanted to give me something.
It was Father’s Day a few years ago and the kids and I decided to do a tour of the Jersey shore. The plan was to start in Asbury Park, and then we would work our way along the coast to Belmar and then end up in Point Pleasant for a late lunch. In Asbury Park, as we walked the boardwalk, I got excited as we neared Convention Hall. I told the kids to follow me...
I have been to, officially, three comedy clubs in my life to see actual comedians. I’ve also been to many unofficial comedy shows in my life, but most of those were late night in bars and funerals.
I was not a coffee person, not as a teenager, not as a young adult, or as an adult. That was until I started to work in corporate America and then, boy oh boy, did I drink coffee.
It’s funny how some songs take on a life of their own in our own lives. Wagon Wheel for me is one of those songs.
When my kids were younger, they would compete to make a CD compilation of their favorite songs, to see which I would like best. It was through this competition where I found a world of music I never would have discovered.
Back in the late seventies, just out of high school, anything was an excuse for a house party. Of course, none of us had houses, but our parents did. The best house for a party at this time was at my friend Woody’s parent’s house.
It was not mine, but it may have been my son Danny’s first concert.
Although, after what we saw that night, I’m surprised he ever went back to see another.
I'm not sure why women would give me their numbers, even unsolicited on my part. When they do, and I reach out, why do they not return my calls?
Spent the last week of July this year down in Belmar, New Jersey in the bottom half of my ex-sister-in-law’s two family house. Its a great house, equidistant between the beach and the center-of-town. However, my favorite thing to do is, at the end of the day, after the sun goes, is plant myself on the front section of her wrap around porch.
