Rebooting (or resetting my PRAM)

I was in the Apple Store yesterday, more specifically the Genius Bar, with miscellaneous airport issues. I asked my genius what is the best way to clean my keyboard. He said shut the machine down and clean everything except the screen with a Mr. Clean sponge. A Mr. Clean sponge?

A dirty Mr. Clean sponge

A commercial is being shot at our house tomorrow. In preparations, I’m taking down all our Nelson Bubble Lights. I’ve heard many ways on how to clean these fiberglass lights. The strangest being that a woman used to bathe with them. I’m strange, but not that strange. I usually use warm soapy water but today I’ve decided to use the Mr. Clean Sponge.

Mr. Nelson meet Mr. Clean

There was a small part of me worried that the Mr. Clean sponge would end up eating through the fiberglass and leave me with a skeleton of a bubble light. In case you aren’t familiar with the Mr. Clean sponges let me say these mystery sponges are a miracle. Many a times they have saved us when a Sharpie was wielded incorrectly by one of our kids.  They are made in Germany, no ingredients active or inactive are printed on the box. Even the warnings on the labels are vague. “To avoid accidental ingestion keep out of reach of toddlers and pets.” That about covers it.

Alright, back to the computers. So I shut down my laptop and clean all the keys, the top and bottom and restart. The Mr. Clean sponge seems to have disabled my track pad. It’s completely stuck. The geniuses never warned me about this. What have they been drinking? I consulted numerous discussion chat boards and everyone says that I need to reset my PRAM. Resetting your PRAM is sort of like doing Twister with you fingers.

A Stretch

To reset your PRAM you need to shut down your computer, hold down the command and option keys along with the P and R keys restart hold these keys till you hear the second tone. I didn’t believe this was going to work with unsticking my track pad.

I have more hair on my chest

Tomorrow I’m going into the hospital to have what is hopefully going to get my heart rate back on a normal sinus rhythm. My cardiologist is going defibrillate me. It’s kinda like rebooting or resetting my PRAM. What can I say? I guess every 49 years things like this just need to be done. Right? Anyways, I know I won’t have my camera with me so no photos and besides I will be under a general anesthesia.

Baseball and Tomatoes and the Big Apple

I don’t love The Yankees. My heart was ripped out a couple of week ago. I’m not referring to the ER post. I’m referring to game 4 of the NLCS. We (The Dodgers) were so close. I’ve been wanting to do a baseball post since April. We even did this Baseball Promo (shown above) piece which we never sent out. It’s now one day after the Yankees won their 27th World Series. Another season has gone by. Baseball like no other sport takes in account the season. You start in the spring and end in the fall with melancholic winter weather looming on the horizon. Just read The Boys of Summer by Roger Kahn you’ll understand what I’m talking about.

The Boys of Summer

I don’t hate the Yankees. Growing up in Ft. Lauderdale,  I used to be a huge Yankee fan. They played their spring training games here and I remember going to the games as a kid with my mom and dad and brother. I loved the players names: Whitey Ford, Joe Pepitone, Mickey Mantle, Clete Boyer, Roger Maris to name a few. I was a kid and these were men with manly names. God, I wish I had my old baseball cards. Okay, this is where this post starts to shift to left field or more accurately the bull pen. The bull pen is where the pitchers warm up.

It’s 1971 and the Baltimore Orioles are playing the Pittsburgh Pirates in the World Series. I’m 11 years old, and ride in a big yellow bus to Rickards Middle School. I got a transistor radio hidden amongst my books listening to Mr. Big Suff, A’int No Sunshine and to some of the baseball games. They played during the day back then. I was just amazed by Roberto Clemente and Brooks Robinson. They were my heroes.

Roberto Clemente

Brooks Robinson

The Oriole manager Earl Weaver was a different story. Besides being known for his embarrassing tirades with umpires, he was also intriguing to me for his tomato garden in the Oriole bullpen. I don’t know how I heard about this but apparently this hot head of a manager grew tomatoes in Baltimore’s old Memorial Stadium.  I think about this whenever I plant a tomato plant and smell that distinctive tomato plant smell. It brings baseball back to me. Last year while digging up info of Weaver and his tomatoes on the internet I happened upon this interesting article.

O’s groundskeeper Pat Santarone dies at 79

The tomato plants that grew at old Memorial Stadium, and the competitions between head groundskeeper Pat Santarone and manager Earl Weaver that sprouted along with them, are almost as legendary as any championships that were won. Santarone died unexpectedly Tuesday at his home in Hamilton, Mont. He was 79.

“Pat and I were very close. He was the best man at my wedding,” Weaver said. “And he meant a lot to Memorial Stadium. He was just like a part of that park itself.”

Santarone, who served as head groundskeeper from 1969 to 1991, died in his sleep of natural causes.

Little League

We always plant tomatoes in our summer garden. They never do too well. Maybe it’s because we don’t get enough full sun in our yard. Or maybe it’s because June is usually foggy in Santa Monica. Also, we are usually on Kauai during most of the harvesting time. I don’t plant Heirloom tomatoes like a lot of people lately. I’m all for more traditional tomatoes like Beef Master, Early Girl or just plain Cherry Tomatoes. Do you think Earl Weaver would plant tomatoes with names like Brandywine, Cherokee Purple or Green Zebras? I don’t f*#@*^*g  think so.

Halloween is Over

Before

After

New Rhythm (or Ted goes to the ER)

Is there a Dr. In the house?

There is something rhythmic, organized, very dependable about hanging clothes on the line. The steady progression of taking a wet shirt out of the laundry basket and placing one then another clothes pin in just that right place. Call it balance.  The sun and wind begin their work immediately. I sometimes count each item of clothes as I hang it on the line. There are no mysteries here. With every sock or pair of pants you hang up, the laundry basket eventually gets empty.

My finger on the pulse

I had been tired, a little spacier then normal and a little light headed since returning from Miami. After two days of this Debbie told me to call my doctor. It was Sunday and I had to go to the ER. I told the triage nurse that it was probably nothing, just the flu. I knew it wasn’t the flu after she did an EKG and she said let’s get you to a bed and a doctor.

It’s the emergency room Dr, who asks the mystery questions. Have you been dehydrated? Consumed large quantities of alcohol or cocaine. NO, NO and NO. “I was bitten by a non venomous snake two weeks ago,” I say. He’s mildly interested but thinks this is a highly unlikely reason why my heart is beating at 140 beats per minute- about double it’s normal rate.

I like needles

I can’t convince the The ER nurse to put my drip line in on my left arm so I can have my right hand free to shoot pictures. She says, ” If you point that camera at me I’m going to take it away.” Ouch, she makes the drip line hurt.

Me in bed #4

The Dr. says I can relax. What’s going on with me is what’s called Atrial Fibrillation. The next couple of sentences come directly from my ER after care instructions sheets. A-Fib is a syndrome where your heart beats irregularly. Symptoms of A-Fib include noticeable heart beats or palpitations, the feeling of fatigue and shortness of breath. Your heartbeats may not seem to have a normal rhythm as if they are happening randomly without the usual pattern. Truth be known this is exactly how I feel. Even after I was given meds in the ER and prescribed beta blockers by my cardiologist, this new rhythm is hard to get used to.

A little bit of this should do the trick

Everything feels… different. It’s sort of like walking around with progressive bifocals for the very first time. I hear my heart valve ticking away in this most unsteady almost John Cage like beat. Don’t get me wrong I like John Cage’s music. I just do like to go to sleep to it. I need to take my pulse frequently. Take my pulse? I swear I can just cup my hand over my chest and listen to my pulse. Right now it’s around 100 bpm. So, what does this all mean? What’s going on? I find myself breathing into my new rhythm. I guess I can get used to this. My doctor says I might need to get converted or defibrillate (delivery of an electrical shock to the heart). This is the most effective approach she says. Wow! Just like on T.V. Stay tuned. To be continued…

Trick Or Treat

A Gathering on the Steps

It’s time to put the last minute details on the Halloween costumes. Ollie and Simon are set since they wore their costumes to school on Friday. Actually, Ollie has been sleeping in his skeleton outfit for the past 2 days. Houston we have a problem. It seems Theo can’t get out of his robot outfit once he is in it and his arms are too constricting and the meltdown is beginning.

Danger! Danger!

A few cuts here and there and a shortening of the limbs seems to solve the robot problems. It doesn’t matter much since I end up carrying most of their costumes while Trick or Treating anyways. The second problem is that Sam’s Larry from the Three Stooges mask doesn’t really look like Larry from the Three Stooges. No worries, he ends up wearing the old standby- the chicken mask. You can’t go wrong with the chicken.

Henry’s is going as The Joker. I’ve sort of convinced him to opt for the Heath Ledger Joker instead of the Cesar Romero or Jack Nicholson Jokers- A lot easier on the make- up artist- me. As I’m spray painting his hair Ollie and Theo want their hair painted too. We discover that Ollie would make a perfect Riddler- Next Year.

This year our friends dean and Catriona has invited us over for dinner and trick or treating. Dean made a cool haunted house of sorts in in garage and Catriona has cooked up a tasting test for our food critic Sam. I think she is a bit tired of his claims of poo- pooing organic ketchup, claiming to be able to tell the difference between various waters and distinguishing the difference between various hams.

The blindfold please

To everyone’s surprise, Sam get 100% on the water test and ketchup portions of the taste test but doesn’t come through with the difference between Serrano ham and prosciutto. Oh well, I’m proud of him anyways. Please visit his food blog What Sam Eats for further culinary critiques.

The Water Test

Big Witch, Little Witch

After a fine dinner of soup and sausages, the men folk take the costumed kinders around the neighborhood while the witches dole out tasty treats to trick or treaters.

I dig the flip- flops Joker

Well it’s pretty mellow around 14th street this year. Mellower still at the Lutheran Church whose parking lot Halloween festivities are  set up in the back of their cars and instead of candy are giving out clay paper weights and raisins.

Trick or Treat

Luckily, Dean and I were able to get World Series updates from some of the houses we visited while trick or treating. There’s something unnatural about playing baseball on Halloween.

A good nights work

We have this thing called The Switch Witch. Basically it’s where the kids trade in all their crappy candy for a more sensible gift like a book. I can’t believe our kids fall for this every year! I mean really, I guess our kids aren’t growing up like us watching Let’s Make A Deal. You’ve already won the washer/ dryer how would you like to trade it for whatever is behind door #2. Usually there’s a donkey behind door #2. Geez, Do you think the Switch Witch is a Lutheran?

Hedgerow Hallowen Festivities

Miss Beth’s Hedgerow is Simon’s pre- school. Hedgerow was Ollie’s, Theo’s and Henry’s pre-school. Miss Beth was also Sam’s nursery school teacher when he went to Westside Waldorf School. So much for the background, here’s some photo from this years Halloween party.

Fun abounded with great costumes, songs, stories and yummy food. I’ll gladly take pictures at any event where caramel apples are served

Holiday Horrors

My Pumpkin

With ocean water temperatures hovering around 70 degrees, roses still in full bloom and baby leopard sharks circling the line up at Bay Street, we are fully emerged into the HOLIDAYS! Yes, the holidays, less daylight, flu strains swirling, projectile nose blowing and the likes. It seems like yesterday I was in a hammock under a palm tree on the beach on Kauai.

Countdown to Theo's Birthday!

You can tell by Countdown to Theo’s Birthday Calender that the big day is the day after tomorrow! I honestly couldn’t tell you if he’s turning 8 or 9 years old. Decorations are slow to get started this year. Halloween costumes are still in the preliminary stages ie. silver spray painted robot limbs on the basketball court,  black leggings unsuccessfully painted with glow in the dark paint scattered around the house (if you squint it looks kinda like a x-ray).

There's something vaguely EC Comics going on here

I’ve always enjoyed pumpkin carving, especially with the kids. I like to free hand the circular lid and encourage the scooping out of the seeds with ones hands. It reminds me of a game I had when I was a kid called Feeley- Meeley where you drew a card and had to find the object on the card inside a box.

Seeds and innards

Dried pumpkin seeds seasoned with sea salt and tamari is always a big hit around here. I understand it’s also a natural remedy for pin worm.

Black Pasta with Orange Sauce

I attempted to concoct a semi spooky meal Saturday night. Black pasta with orange sauce. The meal was met with initial enthusiasm but the novelty quickly wore off. I could tell Sam was already thinking up negatives reviews for his food blog. Towards the end of Theo’s second giant helping I revealed to everyone the secret ingredient in the pasta was squid ink. He nearly puked. I should have drizzled Vampire Blood around the edges like those fancy Wolfgang Puck restaurants in the 1980’s, put a fake eye ball on top of the pasta, or sprinkled bonita flakes over the top right before serving. Needless to say we have leftovers.

Ollie Looses His First Tooth

Wiggle, Wiggle

After many weeks of wiggling, Oliver Moss Catanzaro has lost his first tooth! The first grade peer pressure was extremely tough. Eddie apparently has lost 18 teeth and Charlie Ahearn lost 10 teeth while slipping in the bathtub. Neither of these stories have been substantiated.

Smile

The tooth came out Sunday evening before bed when Ollie threw a heavy buckwheat meditation pillow in the air and he caught it with his face. The power of meditation is obviously strong. The tooth fairy is summoned and Daddy has to get busy making a new tooth fairy mobile. Not to be outdone, Simon claims that one of his teeth are loose too. Here’s a little glimpse of what the tooth fairy penned for Oliie.

Ollie's Tooth Fairy Book

Making Sense of South Beach

Puerto Sagua

I remember once while working in Miami I was talking to a model who out of nowhere says, “You know, The Boat show is in town.” This struck me as strange since I don’t own a boat, wear nautical attire or give the airs of someone who would be interested in boats. Then a few days later I was walking down Ocean Drive and a double decker tour bus was driving by and the I could hear over a loudspeaker emanating from the vehicle, blah blah blah….The Miami Beach Boat Show…blah blah blah. If that wasn’t enough I started seeing banners being towed by airplanes announcing that The Boat Show was here! I never went to the boat show.

Cafe Colada

Besides shutting of the AC and opening up all of my windows in my hotel room, Miami means Cuban coffee. I usually go to this place on Collins Ave. across the street from the Shore Club. It’s a family run convenience store which specializes in stamina pills, flavored condoms and cigarettes. I order cafe colada which always comes with these little plastic cups. I think I’m supposed to share this drink with friends but I since I’m all alone I end up throwing away the little cups and sipping this massively sweet strong drink by myself.

Afternoon pick me up

My favorite breakfast in Miami is a colada and cuban toast. Cuban toast is basically a very light and airy french bread cut open , spread with butter and put in a paninni press. You have to eat it quick before it gets stale.

desayuno de campeones

A good place to eat in Miami is Puerto Sagua. It’s no nonsense cuban food at a reasonable price. I usually sit at the counter, order a Presidente and the breaded steak with plantains and moro rice.

The counter at Puerto Sagua

The best burger in Miami is Le Tub. It’s actually not in Miami but in Hollywood 20 minutes north. The sirloin burger is charbroiled, massive and just plain great.

Le Tubs Sirloin Burger

It’s the only place I know of where you can see tarpon swimming while eating a cheeseburger and sipping a Stella. Apparently the tarpon won’t eat anything thrown to them except fried shrimp. They turn their noses up to french fries. Come to think of it, Le Tubs’  fries aren’t so great. Go there for a burger and a beer!

The tarpons

I usually get up early to get a cuban coffee and read a little before work. The early morning in South Beach, when the sun is just coming up is usually filled with some strange quality. I can’t quite put my finger on it. People wandering the streets after a long night of frolicking just looking for a way to get home and get to sleep. There’s lots of singing and crying.  I remember once,  I was practicing yoga at the beach. The sun had not yet come up so it was still  dark. I was sitting in a comfortable cross-legged position. And, just as the sun was coming up over the horizon, it revealed 2 guys in a comfortable position of their own. To each their own. My day was just beginning, theirs was just ending.

Cabana, South Beach

Ted Gets Bit By A Snake

The Moorings

I walk down to the beach just as the sun was coming up and I see a snake on my path. What do I do? I think, not poisonous, definitely not a Coral or King snake. Try to remember the limerick red next to yellow it’s mellow- black next to red- you are dead. Something like that, only problem is what if I screwed the limerick up- then what. Anyways, I’ve established that this snake is not poisonous, I think. My brother, Steve Wilson, Carl Bocchino and I had a snake club back in elementary school. We knew our snakes. I put my bag to get my camera out. I’m thinking this guy would make a nice picture. He’s red and brown and kind of long and snakey. Now, (here’s where you think I may be stupid) I want to move him into better light. I go to grab him right behind the head and he turns and bites me on the right thumb. I recoil, curse , look at 2 small bleeding puncture wounds on my finger and the snake slithers away. My friend John was bit by a baby rattlesnake last year and is lucky to be alive. This is where the mind starts to stray, fear creeps in, self-doubt (our snake club was a long time ago and wasn’t a very good club at that) escalates. I got a family who I love and who loves me. This is day 3 of a 10 day shoot, models are going to start showing up soon and you just got yourself bit by a snake you bonehead. This is what I do. I get my camera out and start shooting the sunrise. The f stops and shutter speeds create a mantra to get me back on track, iso 100 f 5.6@ 125, iso 100 f 5.6@ 125, iso 100 f 5.6@ 125, iso 100 f 5.6@ 125, iso 100 f 5.6@ 125….

done

The rest of the crew starts making their way to the beach. The snake is gone. There’s just this cat who wants to be pet. I tell him to go have some fun with the snake.

Kitty

I ask a groundskeeper if he’s ever seen snakes around here before and he says, “Oh yes man, the red and brown kind, the are good snakes.” I nonchalantly inform the art director and the producer that I got bit by a snake. They think I’m joking. We check the internet to see if we can pin down exactly what kind of snake bit me. Google snakes, Florida keys.

Elio consulting the Oracle

Here’s what we find out http://www.jaxzoo.org/animals/biofacts/CornSnake.asp Red Rat snakes are also known as corn snakes. The name red rat snake is believed to have originated from the similarity of the markings on the belly to the checkered pattern of Indian corn kernels. Oh yeah, they are not poisonous. I’m off the hook. It’s back to work. I look at the schedule. We got a lot of shots it’s blazing hot but a least I don’t have snake venom coursing through my system.

A lovely leaf

Packing the van at the end of the day I hear a rustling sound in the leaves under a large tree. Arboreal roots are gently swaying, calling to me. Dozens of lizards are dancing in the now fading sun. The way the light is hitting the scene is eerie. I lay down in the leaves. My vantage point become serpentine…Someone yells if you get bit by another snake Debbie is going to kill you.

sapling