PROPS

The second annual Guastello family reunion was held this weekend, with a couple of
additional attendees from last year, and, unfortunately a few absentees, for reasons that
highlight the circle of life.
Props to the new attendees; to Amy for trekking cross country to be part of the festivities,
and to John, Sara's house co-owner, for providing delicious margharitas and smooth cigars.

Props to the repeat offenders; those who attended last year's initial reunion:
To Matt, for serving as a wonderful role model for Miles.
To Miles, for his incredible impersonation of Matt.
To Mia, for coming (exploding?) out of her shell.
To Lincoln, for his hairdo that was nicer than Pop's.
To Landon, for his valiant attempt at being just like Miles.
To Dan, for his champagne popping and serving skills.
To Liz, for bringing her dog.
To Welly, the best looking dog at the par-tay.
To Chris, for his stage presence. (He should consider a career in theatre.)
To John, for being the impetus for these gatherings.
To Tina, for finding Candlewood Lake.
To Wally, for his sophmoric humor and beer brand recognition.
To Sara, for usurping Julie's role of kids games organizer.
To Kirk, for his herculean effort to provide outside karaoke.
To Julie, for being the "hostess with the mostest" after running 8 miles in 65 minutes!

To Fran, for making the nickname "Granny" cool.
To Jude, for letting no obstacle prevent him from placing a bet with his bookie.
To Marion, for reminding me of Mom.
To Geeg, for being the inspriration for my tribute to Gerard.

Props to those who could not attend:
To Brian and Babe for missing the occasion for the best possible reason.
We expect to see you and Brooke next year.
To Gerard, who missed the occasion for the worst possible reason.
Sadly we will not see you next year, but you will continue to be with us in spirit.

Special props to all the aunts and uncles, for the love and affection they have for their
nieces and nephews. When it comes to kids, parents usually do what they have to do.
Grandparents consider their grandchildren rewards for what they did for their kids.
But aunts and uncles have a special opportunity to bond with their nieces and nephews.
You are their friends, and their guardian angels. You are mommy and daddy, without
the shouting.
I was lucky to become an uncle at an early age. (Marion is much older than me.)
Wally and Gerard were the first people I was willing to share the middle of the universe with.
There is room in the middle for all of us.

Finally, if necessity is the mother of invention, I propose that blogging may be the father.
The picture below is the result of my first ever scan. I probably should have used that
technology at work at some time. Never did.
Wally gave me the picture Sunday afternoon, suggesting I find a special place for it.
I hope he agrees that this is a special place.
Amy, Sara, and Gerard; circa 1978
Two pearls and a diamond in the rough.

And so it goes......

Guest Post - Glossophobia

This is a guest post from your first born (or your second-born, depending on those switcheroos in the mid-seventies).

I wanted to share a couple of my aforementioned toasts to my mom and dad with the vast community that is this blogosphere, but without having to go through the rigamarole of overcoming my fear of public speaking. So please read this with a literal or figurative glass in the air:

Dad's Retirment

Once upon a time, a long-haired beauty name ... Jimmy (with two m's) ... got a job, then another, and another, and another, and another - a life path which ultimately turned into an illustrious career in - altogether now - PLANNING. But the best planning of all allowed him and his bride to retire in middle age. So a toast to planning, and to living happily ever after.

Mom's Retirment

On this ocassion of Mom's retirement from teaching, I think it is important to recognize that, first and foremost, Mom is a teacher to all of us, and that is a role from which she can never retire. Her lesson plans for me - all of us - have been comprehensive and thorough. She has taught us to make the best damn beer meatballs and lasagna ever, how to belt out a song with abandon, and how to truly appreciate and look forward to a good nap. She has taught us the fundamentals of life - how to read, that we need to change our underwear everday (though it took Sara a little longer to learn that one). And she taught us the fundamentals of a wonderful life - how to love people (though admittedly, it took me a litle longer to learn that one), how to take care of those loved ones, and how to give back to the world by taking care of strangers. But for me, personally, the lesson that resonates most is how to march to the beat of your own drummer. We all know Mom to be the maverick of the Ocif clan, and I know that seeing that growing up - and even now - is why I am 100% comfortable being 100% me, no matter what conventions I defy or norms I follow. (Dad, I will pause here so that you can make a joke about following a guy named Norm.) ... So, without further ado, let's toast to Mom's retirement from the kind of teaching that earned her so many payckecks, and to all of the lessons she has taught us - free of charge.

Celebrate!

I recently wrote of an embarassment of riches; they have begun.

Amy and Sara hosted a spectacular family dinner party at a local "high falutin" restaurant.

Sara's Johnny C. made his first solo trip to the hills of New Milford to attend this gala event.

Julie and Kirk trusted their kids with someone who has absolutely no P*kri**ak, Gu*ste*l*, or O*if pedigree, so they wouldn't miss the festivities. (I'm sure the babysitter was fully qualified.)

Amy, on the heels of a dreadful travel day that encompassed more than 12 hours of flight and airport time, and several hours of the chaos that is the family P*kri*ch*k, was ready to par-tay.

Sara, after walking a yard in Julie's shoes by having Miles for a sleepover, was ready to return to the lifestyle to which she has become accustomed; snapping her fingers for meals and beverages.

The evening started with a bottle of champagne; the west coast city by the bay has given Amy an appreciation for the better things in life. Numerous cocktails and appetizers followed. For dinner, I had a scrumptious Chilean Sea Bass and a generous portion of Amy's lamb Chops.

Coffee, dessert, after dinner drinks; the whole nine yards.

But, anyone in attendance knows the meal was overshadowed by the numerous toasts Amy provided, in recognition of Mother's and Father's Days, our retirements, and our anniversary.

(Sara and Julie graciously and, with some relief, acquiesed center stage to their sister.)

Speaking from the heart, and armed with the Celene Dion songbook, Amy accurately and poignantly reflected on her Mother's virtues as a parent. Humbly, I suggest Amy flexed her gifts for exaggeration while flattering her Dad.

I laughed.

I cried.

Thanks to all who attended for the best anniversary I have ever had. You are all blogworthy.

A special thanks to Amy & Sara for picking up the bill. (Sorry to disappoint by not fighting you for the check. Those days are gone. Hello retirement budget.)

On the Road Again........

Saturday morning, 3:20 a.m. A tearless goodbye to our beach, and we hit the road to somewhere, over the rainbow. Lucky for us, there is a pot of gold at each end.

I drove first, as my bride slept in preparation for her shift. Passing thru Orlando, I picked up a hitchiker; Minny Mouse. She was totally wasted. I'm not sure what happened next; I think she slipped me a Mickey. Petty Guastello took over in south Georgia and took us to the Carolinas.

Her fellow drivers enjoyed her occasional expletives and one finger salutes, as she zig zagged her way thru an endless stream of pick up trucks, searching desperately for a Dunkin' Donuts.

Yada, yada, yada, 22 hours and one tedious and unscheduled journey over the George Washington Bridge; we pull into the driveway of 37 Park Lane East. We don't pull into the garage; that is now forever lost to the family Pokrinchak.

Four weeks, basically alone in a small condo. Twenty two hours, basically alone in a small SUV.

For our next trick, I suggest we spend 6 hours alone in one of our Florida bathrooms.

Eat your heart out , David Blaine.

And so it goes........................

And yet:

Early in our voyage, about 7 a.m., I'm already tiring. My eyelids are heavy; it is difficult to keep focused on the road. I suspect God is trying to get my attention; perhaps I should pull over, even though we're not scheduled to stop until 7:30. But I can't do that. It was my idea to leave at the ungodly hour of 3; I must, if nothing but for the sake of vaniy, hold on for while longer.

Sensing that I was ignoring His hands weighing down my eyelids, God called upon His angel.

My bride awoke, smacking me on the shoulder. I admit to being prone to ignoring God, but I never ignore my better half. Alive and awake, we traveled on.

Now, this tale can be dismissed as blog fodder,but I suggest that perhaps we should be more open to the concept that perhaps God does indeed work in mysterious ways.

Much like the way David Blaine does.

HOME REVISITED

I have enjoyed some of the best days of my life in sunny Florida over the years.
Also, some of the worst. Last days of previous vacations were particularly
rough. I would stand on the beach and woefully fantasize about not leaving.
I never wanted to go back to the futility, the stress, the misery that was work.
And now, for something completely different! I can come and go as I please; yet
I'm ready to return to the New Milford life of Pop.
The beach, as expected, has treated me well. However, there has been very
little human contact. The dolphins and manatee have entertained, as previously
stated, but despite my claims, their communication skills are lacking. Don't

get me wrong; my bride and I have been good company for each other.
We never reached the point where we felt it necessary to reach out and actually
be friendly with anyone. Still, I look forward to soon having conversations with people
I am not buying anything from. I expect to be a real chatterbox for about 20 minutes.
This time, I will truly appreciate my return to New Milford. My in-laws, and their
families will no doubt enthrall me with effusive compliments about how much
they missed me. I'm expecting an especially warm hug from Uncle Andy. I'm told
Cousin Sharon has missed me so much she may give me almost Ten thousand
dollars just for coming home.
And I've got a Guastello Family Reunion to look forward to! My sisters and their
families congregating on the grassy knoll of the Pokrinchak estate. Sara will join
us for an extended stay; Amy will return from the left coast.
An embarrassment of riches…………..
We will soon evolve into the new routine that is retirement. Julie and Kirk will be in
charge of everything. They'll take good care of us. We'll provide an occasional meal.
And, of course, I'm returning to my guys. Boyish, childish, sometimes cantankerous.
Ever playful, sometimes screechingly loud. Always entertaining.
Yes, Mike and the Mad Dog will fill my carefree afternoons with the song that is
sports talk radio.

I'm a kidder. Miles and Landon hold a twelve hundred mile long string
to the hearts of Geeg & Pop. We can put that away for a while.

Manatee Sighting

Early this morning, on the inter-coastal. Ony one; no musical talents at all.


Some discussion about yoga. Breakfast at Sandy's.


Yada, yada, yada..................................




Hey, I bought something a couple of week's ago that I haven't bought in 15 years or so.
There was a time I would never leave home without one.
What did I buy?

Dolphin Sighting

We've had a couple this visit, but the most recent was particularly invigorating.
It was during one of our mid morning walks; two dolphins approached within
50 feet or so of us. What was extraordinary was the fact that we were walking
on the sidewalk at the time!
No, just kidding, but they did get really close to us in the ocean, sometimes
swimming towards the beach, not just parallel. They even waved their tails at us!

Oprah Winfrey was riding one of them. She and her dolphin performed
a unique duet of "The Night They Drove Ol' Dixie Down." Ms. Winfrey displayed
a surprising range that captured the essence and guttural depth of
Levon Helm. Unfortunately,the dolphin (Adolph) sounded like Betty Boop and his

incessant clicking missed the beat.
The other dolphin,seemingly unimpressed, left with a flourish. Oprah left shortly
after, noting that she wanted to avoid the inevitable crush of her worshippers.
Pat, displaying a previously hidden swimming talent, caught up with Oprah in
Clearwater. They enjoyed a quiet afternoon discussing the merits of exercise
and diet.

Adolph and I had lunch at Guppy's. He had a salad; I had the mahi mahi.

Home

I have often referred, somewhat playfully, as our condo here in
Indian Rocks Beach being "home." It is, afterall, the only property
we own, and we have separate bathrooms here!
Still, 'home' is probably better defined by where family is.
Therefore, I respectfully request that my three pearls move to
within a 50 mile radius of IRB. Your family and friends are welcome
as well; I don't want to be unreasonable.
You'd like it here. The vastness of the ocean continues to impress,
especially during the quiet solitude of a morning walk. As I approach

the wooden walkway; the intoxicating swoosh of the gentle tide is
incredibly soothing. The horizon, the ocean; so freakin'………….big.
I maintain some sort of warped satisfaction in the knowledge that, if
I had a boat, or could swim really well,, or walk on water, I could
journey to Texas! I don't want to, but I could.

Occasional dolphin sighting continue to fascinate us. They are
generous with their water ballet, and they never dart in front of you
when you're driving. You like shells? There are a few down here.
For those of you who have kids, or will have kids, can you think of a
better playgound than the Gulf of Mexico? I could make an argument
that it might be consider selfish of you not to move here; putting your
comfort with status quo ahead of the joy of your born and unborn
children. But, perhaps I'm being a little heavy handed; inconsistent
with my unwittingly understated nature. I suggest you follow
your hearts.
Let me entice you one last time. You are probably familiar with my
soon to be famous "shells in a cigar holder cylinder." You are
probably concerned about making a living down here, so I offer you a
free of charge franchise selling my shell creations. Normally, I would
expect a 60% portion of all sales, but, if you secure Pinellas County
residency by year end 2009, I will reduce my portion to 55%!
This is a one time offer that will not be duplicated………. until 2010.
My projections suggest that these franchises will allow at least two
of you to have a roof on your head before Obama's 8 year reign as
emperor ends. (I'm told sleeping othe beach is an acceptable
alternative to home ownership, and the tax savings easily offset the
discomfort caused by occasional hurricanes and wild dogs. You
also get first shot a turtle eggs; and IRB delicacy.)
Okay, I've made my case, but the decisions are yours completely.
Disregard, if you can, the facts that we brought you into this world,
nurtured you. Loved you; still love you.
Provided you with a college education. One of you, I forget which one,
graduated from Yale.
But, as I said before with little real feeling or conviction, I suggest you
follow your hearts. Our original plan isn't bad; snowbirds…………..
Actually, the original plan is damned good! You can move down here if
you want to, but I may have to rescind my franchise offer; too
lucrative.
Follow your hearts, your dreams.

Two Boys, Two Joys

Landon called me today to tell me he went poop. Attaboy Pal!
It's nice to know your grandson is thinking of you when he's on the potty.
(I'm usually thinking about the Giants.)
Miles told me he is doing really well with his swimming lessons. He
sounds so grown up, I fear his chin fuzz will be longer than mine when I
see him next!

I hope they have more time for me when I return to New Milford; they had
busy schedules in June! School, library, playdates, babysitting; I spent a
lot time double waving them goodbye.
But now we're in prime time pool season. If Kirk has maintained the
integrity of the water, we'll be good to go! (if not, we'll be good to go 48
hours after return of POOL BOY!)
I'm so anxious to see Miles show off his newly accelerated swimming
skills. And Landon was showing pretty good form with a baseball bat
before we left.
I am especially pleased when Miles and I are totally tuned in to whatever
game we are playing, basketball, trains, car-bocce, whatever. One time,
during a frenzy of childish activity, Miles called me "Joshie."
Joshie is one of Miles' best friend.
Quite a compliment Miles gave me that day.

Landon just calls me "Pop," but he complimented me today by calling
to tell me he pooped. Attaboy pal! Maybe you should call me "Poopsie."
Yes, two boys, two joys. But long before I was Pop, I was Daddy.

Three wonderful daughters.
Three girls, three pearls………….

Happy Birthday to Me

I celebrated my birthday alone, on the beach, the day after my arrival home.
The surf was calm, the sun was hot. The wine and the cigar were cheap,
but enjoyable. As I may have mentioned before, life is good at the beach.
I spent the day relaxing, reading, and accepting well wishes from family
members. (I did have to call some of them myself….)

A trip to the library provided an unexpected gift; "The Complete Sherlock Holmes,"
two volume set, was on the "everything free" table.
Dinner was at local seafood restaurant I hadn't tried before; fish is not a
favorite of some family members. "Crabby Bill's" provided an excellent
combination platter of mahi mahi, scallops, gonch fritter, and two martinis.
The staff even sang "Happy Birthday!" (Jennifer was celebrating the eleventh
anniversary of her birth.)
Then it was home to let my hair grow and patiently wait 2 days for my bride to
arrive; my best present being her presence.
And arrive she did, right on time. So much to celebrate, but nothing more
exciting than our new roles as blissfully retired snowbirds.
We have no place we have to be, and we know where our next meal is coming from.
Now we really test our compatibility; hopefully the last 40 years have
prepared us for wall to wall togetherness. (It's a big beach but a small condo.)
It's time for us to rigorously contnue to follow the marital guidelines that have
nurtured our relationship for so many years: appreciation for what we have,
compassion for each other's needs, and tolerance for each others incessantly
irritating behavior. Pat is annoyingly attractive. She also has been too generous
with her time and our money. It will be interesting to see how she adapts to this
phase of life, when she has lots more time and we have lots less money.
Among my character flaws, I acknowledge that I am excruciatingly charming and
unwittingly understated.
And so it goes………

Jimi's Great Adventure!

I used to think my 2 hour daily rounf trip commute to work was bad, but tolerable.
Based on that experience I figured I could handle a 20 hour journey home to Indian Rocks Beach. Besides, the road has always been good to me, from my '59 red and silver Schwinn, to my '03 luxury Audi.
I was on the road by 3:30 a.m., June 17. For more than 4 hours I was entertained by Met fans
calling in to WFAN, complaining about the gutless, classless firing of Willie Randolph.
As a long suffering Giants fan, I take an unhealthy delight in any other team's misery. Callers in the middle of the night are particularly disturbed, much to my demented delight.
As I distanced myself from New York, and radio reception wandered, I switched to a couple of CD's Sara gave me for Father's Day. The first, a compilation of songs Bob Dylan claims to enjoy, was more amusing than entertaining. (He can't possibly like some of these songs.)
The second CD was a late sixties live Simon & Garfunkel concert, featuring an early performance
of "Bridge Over Troubled Waters." Having never heard the song before, its introduction was met by stone silence from the crowd. However, tumultuous applause followed. Brilliant; way cool!

I also treated myself to some Limbaugh paranoia. Apparently, we are doomed. Oh well......

I made good time; even survived traffic thru Baltimore and Washington with only minimal traffic delays. Other than all to frequent stops for gas, I can characterize the trip as "pleasant."

I actually got within 10 minutes of northern Florida before I stopped for the night at around 8.
Motel 8; 50 bucks. I actually stopped earlier at an Econolodge, but refused to pay their rate of $70. The clerk tried to entice me with a 10% AARP discount. I gave her my best "don't mess with Jimbo" look and left. Unfortunately, I think she misinterpreted my look as "cheap, pathetic loser."

Waffle House provided a late dinner. Service was excellent, two servers, one customer. My primary server was Abigail. She called me "Baby." I think she saw this wanderer as her ticket out of Smalltown, Ga. Or maybe, she calls everyone "Baby." She did give me extra chilli on my homefries though.

I left her a generous tip, but I also left her in Smalltown.

Another relatively early start, and I'm on the beach by noon. As I may have mentioned, life is good on the beach.
I am Snowbird, perhaps a little confused, since I arrived in the summer, but snowbird nonetheless.