Story 35: How to be number one

Lets face it I love to compete. Most guys do.  I think working in a Men’s  Phys. ed. department, is in some ways a great job for me, because it seems that we are always getting into Mega Millions lottery, or competing over something small like who is the best at tennis, handball, lost the most weight, etc.

When I was younger I also liked a challenge. I was very successful at the National Bible Contest, ran a 1/2 marathon in High School in under two hours, and coached two intramural sports teams in college.

When I was in middle school, I ran for Student Government president, and was part of a spelling B. I remember trying to spell the first word I was given, “pursue” I thought it had an extra “e” in it, but it didn’t.  I was disappointed that I lost, but that didn’t stop me in future efforts.

Another time when I was on a college intramural basketball team I remember being called “The little guy.” I didn’t stop trying, but instead beat an opposing player to the ball by jumping higher. I felt great about my efforts, even if I did end up temporarily on the floor afterwards.

I also recall participating in a twister event at my college SUNY Albany. My school broke the record for the largest amount of participants doing twister at that time.  And guess who got out first? Me.  It was quite disconcerting to hear “Eric Levine...... out first....”  The sound seemed to reverberate across the whole throng of participants and for a while echoed in my head as well, and seemingly through time.  

     In retrospect, I probably should have started in the back of the twister competition to give me more of a shot. Well they say that hindsight is 20/20, I just wish the man who was judging the contest had a worse prescription.  

     Life Lesson 35: “The thirst to be first” is something many of us have,  but remember being first to try something even failing is almost as valuable as the person who succeeds at the same thing. Remember Amelia Earhart? Sometimes trying to do something helps to forge our strength as we “pursue” our goals, and keep in mind that you should’t feel like number two in your quest to be number one.

Story 34: High school hijinks

     
    Back when I was in high school, we used to do some truly immature things.   One incident that stands out is the time that one of my friends wanted to show his basketball prowess by shooting full milk containers into the boys toilet stall while they were occupied.

     This went on for a few weeks and led to a lot laughs until one day my friend chose the wrong person.  The day started out normal.   I watched my friend Keith throw the milk onto his “victim” and then we ran out of the bathroom laughing. We didn’t think much about the incident until we found out later the victim was Frank Rubinstein the 6 foot five inch captain of the lacrosse team.  Frank was covered in milk and throwing freshman around like bowling pins until he found out who was responsible. Eventually someone cracked and informed him that my friend Keith was the culprit.

     With this new knowledge Frank started screaming “Who is Keith?” until finally someone pointed at my friend and he came over in a rage.

     I have seen some scary things in my life but this was pretty close to being the worst.  He grabbed my friend Keith, and started screaming about what he was going to do to my friend something along the lines of stuffing his head in the toilet.

Keith tried to reason with him, but it was like someone trying to talk down a mentally disturbed person. He offered to do Frank’s homework for the year, pay for the dry cleaning, anything to get off the hook.

     “O.K.,” Frank said. “Forget about the homework, but you can buy me some new sneakers and a polo shirt. Should be about hundred dollars.” He said with a grin.

     My friend agreed to pay, and that's how Frank got himself a new pair of sneakers and stylish shirt, and Keith learned a valuable lesson about making better decisions.

Life Lesson 34: Money makes the world go round, and can help you get out of a lot of difficulty situations, but the best advice is try to avoid getting into them the first place. Also, don’t be afraid to take your shot in life, but remember there are some shots you probably should avoid, especially those that you don't want to be around to see the results.

SIgns of life

      Signs. There are so many different types: Bad, good, and those simply neutral. Signs a relationship is over, signs of a heat attack, signs of a potential earthquake, or someone is choking, stop signs,  signs that only the groundhog can sense, signs that you are in love, etc., etc., but what about signs that someone is still alive? By this I don't mean signs of life when someone is in a coma, but what about signs from the beyond?

      My father died almost 10 years ago, and sometimes I wonder if he still around somewhere. I never used to believe in ghosts, but perhaps so. Especially in the home that he died in. Is his life force somehow stronger?  What about parallel worlds? There are so many things that we really don't know. What if our matter is never really destroyed as Einstein says, but rather is converted into a different form.  Might ghosts or something similar be real?  Just because something can't be measured does that mean it isn't possible. People used to think our universe or earth itself stood alone, but now we know that we are only one small part of everything.

       A friend of mine from work told me a story that made me want to questions everything. He was driving in Queens one night with his sister who is an attorney and very no-nonsense when they witnessed a car in front of them go over an embankment.  

       When they stopped their car to investigate, they were all shocked to see that the car had vanished. No accident at all.  "Ghost car."  My friend's sister stated.  Even another motorist behind them stopped too, because he supposedly witnessed the same thing.

     If they hadn't said it, I would never had believed it, but I have seen some things in my home too that seem to say that someone or something in my home is still here.  

      I would like to think it is the spirit of my father or perhaps grandmother is still alive in some way.  For example,  I sometimes drop rubber bands on the floor in the house, and more often than not I notice that they have formed an infinity symbol. Almost as if my father is saying I'm still here. Has anyone ever experienced the same thing I wonder? I can't be the only one.

     Another time I was in the kitchen and I had a glass bowl with a spoon in it.  Without prompting, the spoon moved clockwise a quarter turn around the bowl.  I felt chills and said quietly, "Dad are you there?"  but I got no response.  Are angels real? Are people looking down on us or over us? I really don't know. I would like to believe so, but I guess like like religion we just have to have faith.

     One other incident that merits mentioning. I remember one night in bed at my last apartment I was thinking about my father and wishing I could summon him to me, when all of a sudden I felt a great deal of warmth and energy, and saw through closed eyelids bright light from the window.  When I opened my eyes the light was gone.  It reminded me of the movie Ghost when Woopie Goldberg was entered by ghosts. I wonder if I experienced the same thing?    I have a hard time telling people what I've experienced, because I don't want to be thought of as crazy. 

        My brother Bruce and I went on the Montel Williams Show one time and I got the opportunity to ask a questions to the psychic Syliva Brown.  I asked her, "Is there a message from my father?"
She replied that she "Saw a lot of paper and that he was concerned about an insurance policy." The funny thing is that a student at my job saw me on tv as well as a man at LA Fitness when I was watching the episode a month later.  What was spooky is how accurate I think Sylvia Brown was, because my father's closet is filled with papers, and she got the dollar amount completely right.

        Maybe Shakespeare was accurate too when he said, "There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy."  or as Fox Mulder said on the XFiles, "I want to believe." Do you?

Story 33: Dude, where's my car?

  A few years ago, a former girlfriend and I went out to eat at a well known mobbed up Italian restaurant in Corona, New York.  Dinner went well, but after we exited the restaurant we went to get our car and had some drama.

  Back then unlike most places, this restaurant did not give you a ticket when you valet parked your car.  So, when we got to the valet desk I was asked, “What kind of car do you drive?”

  I responded, “A white Jeep Grand Cherokee, "and with that the valet went in the back of his very crowded parking lot to bring out our vehicle. When he drove up we were a bit surprised because he was in a brand new sparkling white Cherokee.

  “That’s a nice car,” I joked.  “but ours is way older.”

The valet looked at us and replied, “Thank you for noticing, because last week we had a woman drive her car halfway to Manhattan before she spotted a baby seat in the back, and realized that we gave her the wrong car.”

  “What happened next?” I asked.

“She drove it back to the restaurant and parked it front.  Just as she pulled up, the real owner came out and told us how efficient we were and gave us a good tip.” He replied with a smile and a laugh.

“Mistakes happen,” I remarked. “At least the baby wasn’t in there too.” and with that my girlfriend and I laughed and drove home, thinking of pasta, parking, and parenting.

Life Lesson 33: I think the lesson that can be learned is that it is important to speak up when you feel wronged for your rights, your property, or anything else that you value, because if you don’t who will.

Story 32: I smell a rat

     

   A few years ago when I was doing counseling as part of a school-based program, I spoke to a senior high school student about his current job.

     He told me that he worked in a parking garage in New York City, and that they had a bad problem with rats.  The supervisor of the garage didn’t want to use rat poison so he came up with the idea to bring his cat to work.  Historically, cats as we know are famous for their ability to chase and capture mice.  So he confidently brought in “Tiger” to clean house.  Tiger was an orange tabby cat with a fiery disposition.   I had a Tiger too when I was young, an alley cat who unfortunately ran away.

     Things seemed to be going fine on the first day the cat was seen in the garage, but on the second day my student related that he witnessed Tiger running away from a foot-long rat. That was the end of the “mouse hunt.”  I told my student that the garage would be better off if he they had picked up a bob cat or perhaps a small mountain lion. Although, that probably wouldn’t be very practical when patrons came by to get their cars.

     Life Lesson 32: It’s often been said that every problem has a solution.  Pick solutions that are appropriate to the task at hand, because even though we live a in dog-eat-dog world, sometimes, it’s more like rat eats cat.  So choose wisely.

Story 31: Driving home from SUNY

     

    
  My brother Bruce and I both attended SUNY Albany in the late 1980's.  Bruce was a junior and was living with the heads of the black fraternities on campus. How he got to live with those guys I don’t know, but he said that they got along pretty well. 

     Getting to and from Albany was always an adventure. I remember driving with a guy I met on the ride board (a ride share program) who had the habit of putting his car into neutral when going down hill to save gas. Another time my mother drove all the way up to Albany just to pick me up.  That was once of the nicest/most generous things she ever did. It was worth more than any gift of money. I didn’t even mind waiting in the cold with all my stuff.  This was before there were cell phones to see where she was.

  I recall another fateful day during my freshman year. How our car a white Toyota Corolla (not the biggest car but one of the most reliable) was filled completely with a year's worth of both Bruce’s and my clothes and furniture.  We put things under seats and all the way up to the ceiling. There was barely enough room to see out the back window, and whoever sat in the passenger seat had to rest their feet on books.  Our car may have qualified as a low-rider considering how low we were with all the weight. Good thing we weren’t a boat.

    Back then neither of us had a lot of money, and we really didn’t think too much of it.  I remember calling home on many an occasion and asking my parents for fifty dollars.  I probably spent a lot of that of it on beer, flowers for my girlfriend, or simply eating pizza.

  Anyway, the trip proceeded uneventfully until we got to our last hurdle The Throgs Neck Bridge.  In those days there was no EZ pass and suddenly we realized that we didn’t have enough money for the bridge.  So we pulled over and started to look inside the car. We looked everywhere. Not an easy feat when your car is packed with stuff.  We found some change but quickly realized we were fifty cents short.

“Damn,” I said. “What are we going to do?”

Bruce suggested we ask a stranger if he could help us. and fortunately they gave us the change we needed and we were able to make it across the bridge to Queens and eventually home. I never forgot that lesson of the importance of the kindness of strangers.

  Many years later Bruce and I were driving again to Syracuse to visit our brother Dan, and we stopped at a well-known rest stop.  As soon as we got out of car we were set upon by a guy with several piercings and tattoos who asked for money for gas.

  I looked at bruce and then gave the hippyish guy several dollars.  He seem pleased and went back to his friends. 

“Full circle.” I said to Bruce.

“Agree.” he replied with a nod, and cheerfully we got back into our car knowing our debt was probably now paid in full.

  Life Lesson 31: They say in life that what you give out you get back times three.  Karma they call it.  I think the life lesson is to be be kind to strangers without expectation of anything in return, because “What goes around comes around.” especially on life’s road, and sometimes even on the New York State Thruway.

Story 30: Dad Goes Postal

     In some ways this is a hard story to write, because my father passed away five years ago at least, and the wound still hurts when I think about him, and how he will never meet my future grandkids, or see my nieces grow up.  I guess it’s all part of the life cycle.

   
        Before my father’s death, I needed to get a car, and I asked my brother Bruce for advice. He suggested getting a car at a police auction.  I asked him to get me a car that turned out to be a big mistake. He bought a car for about $50, and I guess you get what you pay for because it was filled with junk and had a million tickets.  That should have been enough red flags for me.  It turned out the brakes were in bad shape. Really bad shape. So bad I should have had them fixed but I didn’t have a lot of money.  "Penny wise pound foolish." would be an appropriate way to look at this situation.

One day my father said he needed to get some things at the grocery store, and I didn’t think much about it. In retrospect, I should have had a mechanic inspect the car before I bought it, but I didn’t. Blame it on youth and inexperience. Although there are plenty of adults who neglect to do the same thing.

Unfortunately, my father drove the white station wagon down a windy steep road called ravine road, and then suddenly realized the brakes weren’t working. Talk about an “oh shit” moment.  My father however didn’t panic and drove the car into a telephone pole and was able to stop the car as a result, but ended up wrecking both. Fortunately for us he wasn’t hurt, and I learned several important lessons from the accident.

  Life Lesson 30: Cars can be replaced but people can’t. So the next time an offer sounds to good to be true, look closer to see if it is a good deal or not. You may or may not like what you find, but that detail might save someone’s life, and possibly prevent a lifetime of regret. 

Story 29: QT in the DR

A few years ago my brother and I went on a trip to the Dominican Republic. There were several memorable moments including: Staying at the 5 star Melia hotel in Santo Domingo, having rum punch along their Malecon in an old fort, and getting shaken down by the local police. For some reason several people in the DR are frequently “thirsty” code for “give me a bribe,” or I will give you a hard time.  I gave a few bribes to at least one police officer who hand’t had drink in a while or so he said, but when we were in a bank in Puerta Plata I drew the line.

  Puerta Plata is beautiful place but at the local bank, a security guard  pointed his shotgun at my brother’s head, and pulled the handle back menacingly. Our guide said the man was surprise surprise “thirsty” but on principle I gave the guard nothing. For God’s sake we were exchanging money in a bank. That should be enough. Luckily nothing happened to either one of us.

  Another highlight of the trip was when we were in the town of Cabarete, home to some of the best nightlife on the island with restaurants right on the beach.  A great place to watch the sunset.  On our last night, Bruce and I were enjoying Irish food at an Irish restaurant. When to our amazement, Bruce spied the custodian from his high school dining with a local African-American woman, presumably a prostitute.

  Bruce talked to him for a while and then the man whispered  with a wink, “Just don’t tell anyone.” and we never did. However, I joked with Bruce that when he went back to work in the fall, the custodian’s number would be on speed dial. If Bruce had even one piece of paper in his wastebasket the custodian would come running, even if he was helping the principal. Oh, the power of blackmail.

  On another occasion we drove to a town called Jarabacoba. If Cabarete has the best nightlife, Jarabacoba, has some of the nicest weather, because it is in the mountains and has nice cool air. Bruce and I did many enjoyable things in the town ranging from white water rafting in a sometimes smelly river, horseback riding to two waterfalls, and relaxing at a dude ranch called Ranch Baguate.  On our last day, it was suggested that we try riding quads 
(four wheel vehicles with wide tires.)

  Things seemed to be going well at first, but strangely the four wheelers had hand brakes like a bicycle that took some getting used to.  I wasn’t very comfortable driving mine, and had a bad habit of edging towards a ditch on more than one occasion.

  Bruce didn’t seem to have any problems. I was amazed how little kids would come out of ramshackle houses and start waving as we rolled by. I wanted to tell them, “Kids I don’t know if I can stop this thing,” but I never got the chance.

  At one point Bruce and our guide got ahead of me by about a mile, and I found myself going out of control and ended up getting lodged into a side of building after I crashed the quad.

  Bruce came back after  a while and asked what happened, but I simply shrugged.  After switching quads, I started to get the hang of it and eventually made it to the waterfall, and most importantly got back to the ranch unhurt.

  Life Lesson 29: When you travel, people often say “When in Rome” to encourage you to try everything local: The food, the drink, the women, sports, etc.  Which I agree with for the most part, but don’t forget the quote “Knowledge is power”  because rather than being in the dark about local customs and people, knowing how to drive can take you a long way. It’s the difference between getting to your destination or finding yourself stuck in one. 

Story 28: Getting Our Kicks On Route 66

Several years ago. my brother Bruce and I decided to travel on the famous Route 66. At that time Bruce was living in Chicago, and it seemed like a good way to see America and also visit some relatives along the way.  If we hadn’t run out money, twice, we might have made it all the way to California, but who really knows?  Back then the only credit card I had was a Sears card, but then again I was also debt free.

  Bruce was living with a former unpleasant girlfriend and after a few days in his too small apartment and their frequent arguments, joyfully we got into our rental SUV and started the journey.  We visited many interesting sites including: Lincoln’s tomb, Wrigley Field, The St. Louis Arch (quite a claustrophobic elevator) as well as Utah, whose many blond women made me wish I was a Mormon.  In addition, we also went to the Oklahoma City saw first-hand the devastated Murrow building, and let’s not forget relatives in Arizona and the beautiful Saguaro cactus fields.

  Driving there however was not without incident. Several times we almost got into accidents.  On one occasion, we were driving in Oklahoma in the right hand lane when all of a sudden we saw a man in the middle of road facing us and filming us.  Fortunately, I was able to swerve around him in time, but it made me think, “Why is he doing something so dangerous?”  We never got the chance to find out.  Later in the trip, we thought our problems were over, but after cresting another hill, a group of Latino men were in the left lane pushing a tractor.  We barely escaped hitting them as well.

I was very stressed from the experiences of driving out west, but apparently not everyone feels the same way. My brother noticed a bearded man in a white robe probably Sikh sitting outside our hotel one night quietly meditating.  I could have used some of that good karma and peace.

Life Lesson 28: Life is a journey that we can either rush through haphazardly, or take our time to enjoy.  You never know when a small experience will quietly change your life, and sharing it with others can make it even more special and memorable, especially time with those we love.

Story 27: Baby G. And Other Tales

G. is a friend of mine. Although at times he has some very strong opinions.  When he gives you his opinion, which is frequently, he says them loud and with a sound of authority even if he is completely full of s---, or doesn’t really know what he is talking about.

One day he proclaimed, “I never use sunscreen because as you know it causes cancer.”

I was doing some work so in our crowded office, so I didn’t respond immediately, but when I looked up from my work he was still staring at me.  

“I don’t know if that’s true.” I replied, but when I looked over again he was still staring as if trying to bore holes though me with his eyes.

“I read it in a book.” he exclaimed.

“Well, if you read it in a book it must be true.” I replied, and went back to doing my grades. 

Undeterred he started talking about other topics, “So the other day I was in Westbury and this rich guy had a beautiful 10,000 foot rectangular house.” As he said this latest anecdote his motioned his hand in circle.

“You mean rectangle.”  I responded with a correct drawing in the air.

“Of course, I was testing you.” He said.

“Maybe you should tell me 10 times and I will remember it better.” I answered.

I was talking about the concept of “over learning,” an idea G. had tried to explain to me once over dinner at a sushi restaurant in Rockville Center.  He told me that when he was a young student, a professor had recommended that everyone read a page 10 times, and then you would definitely remember it.

“Don’t mock me,” he retorted. "That system works" but I was reluctant to take his advice considering he had once received a 12 on a geometry test.

G. had also been going on an on about his new Prius. “Forty five miles to the gallon, and you know what I hear when I am at a light? nothing. The engine is completely quiet.”

A guy in our office, Jay, yelled out, “I wouldn’t take a s--- in a Prius.” to which our office erupted in laughter. While G. was talking  about the merits of his car, we secretly took a fake baby made out of a flour bag that one of our students had created in a social psychology class for a parenting project, and strapped it into G.’s passenger seat, after quietly swiping his keys.

The next day, we asked him how he was doing.

“I almost ran the car off the road yesterday,” he replied. “I looked over at the passenger seat, and there’s a fake baby strapped into the seat next to me.”

Our office laughed, and then somebody shouted, “Well at least you could have used the HOV lane.”

“I have a Prius I don’t need a baby,” he responded.  “But my wife used the flour and made us some muffins,” he laughed and put them on the desk.  “Breakfast is served.”

Life Lesson 27: Just because something is written or said ten times doesn’t make it true,  and remember that hearing “Breakfast is served”  is definitely better than “You just got served.”

Story 26: Close Encounters With A Cab

     It often seems that the way a person drives is a reflection of their personality. I’ve seen this also on the tennis court. A calm person often drives calm, an angry person may have frequent road rage, while a person who is scattered or erratic may drive in the same way. 

     My friend Brian is like that, erratic.  When he drives he frequently drives in stop and starts the way a person drives a manual car for the first time, or a bumper car.  

His skills or lack thereof came to a head one night several years ago in Washington, DC. My friend was late to meet his wife, so he sped up to make up some time. What he didn’t know was that he was about to be faced with his a far worse driver, a new immigrant cabbie from Bangladesh on his first night on the job.

Brian made an illegal turn down a one-way street near his house, when out of nowhere the cabbie crashed into my friend’s car.

“What that hell were you thinking?” Brian screamed.

“I’m sorry, this is my first time driving here. Are you ok?” the driver asked concerned.

“I’m fine, I think, ” My friend replied holding his neck. “but my car could be better.

“Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?” asked the cabbie.

“You just drove into me, what do you think?” Brian replied in exasperation. 

     And with that the two cars and their respective drivers limped away, hopefully to never meet again.

Life Lesson 26: Be careful out there, and remember that haste makes waste, and never drive wasted. Finally, be aware that southern hospitality can sometimes lead to a sudden hospitalization.

Story 25: How to survive driving in New York City

Driving in New York City is always an adventure. It reminds me of the Seinfeld routine where he talks about getting into a cab. How the experience seems surrealistic, and you are amazed at what the drivers are capable of doing without crashing.

My Brother Bruce and I have struggled with parking in NYC too.  One time, we actually waited in our car for a 1/2 hour for a man to finish a meal in a diner while we waited for his space. 

“I hope he doesn’t get dessert.” I said to Bruce.
 Fortunately he didn’t, and we were able to get his space shortly after he finished.  

“This experience is so New York.” Bruce replied later, and I couldn’t help but agree.

My worst parking experience however was when I was meeting a few former high school buddies for a reunion on the Upper East Side.  I saw two traffic agents walking by cars, as I pulled up next to a Mercedes to ask the driver if he was leaving. After it was confirmed, I double parked my car and waited for him to leave.

Within two minutes, a female traffic agent came up to my car and bellowed, “You can’t park here.”

“I’m waiting for a space.” I replied, and satisfied with my answer she left for the time being.

After a few moments, the mercedes pulled out of the space, and I pulled in forward to park. Just as I pulled into the space, a livery cab rolled up and the cabbie started to yell at me. It was the first argument of the night, but unfortunately not the last.

“I saw what you did. You pulled into the space when he was backing in.” He bellowed.

“He said I could take the space,” I yelled back. “I’ve been waiting for him to leave.”

The livery driver glared at me, but was unconvinced, and drove off in a huff.

I thought my worries were over, but after my argument with the livery driver I started to adjust my car in the space.   I  confess due to my stressed out condition I didn't do great job parking and there was a lot of scraping of tires against the sidewalk. Suddenly, another meter guy comes over and starts punching things in his computer.

“What are you doing?” I yelled out.

“There's no money in the meter.” he replied angrily.

“But I'm parking.” I stated emphatically.

“Put money in the meter!” he screamed back.

Fortunately, I had one quarter and was able to put it in the meter, and then got some change at a nearby store. When I got back to my car, there was a Pakistani man sawing a piece of wood on my meter.

“Oh shit what now?” I said to myself. I didn't know what was happening, but I wanted to defuse my next potential problem.

“Can you believe these parking agents?" I said to the man, "He wanted to give me a ticket for parking.”

“I know that guy,” He grumbled. “Someday, somebody is going to kill him.” as he proceeded to cut the piece of wood even more fiercely.

Based on his ability with the saw, I reasoned he was probably a good candidate to do the job right, and after our brief conversation and a few more quarters in the meter,  I walked across the street to tell my friends about my stressful experience.

    Life Lesson 25: It’s been said many times that “Good things come to those who wait,” but sometimes we have to be creative to get what we want too.  In addition, a good excuse can go a long way, but remember so can a roll of quarters.  So, be like the scouts, and always be prepared, especially when driving and parking in New York City.

Story 24: How to live to be 100

I have two relatives Mark and Steve who are hard-working extremely adventurous guys.  They are Jewish but because they grew up and live in Staten Island have a bit of an Italian accent and style. They are also extreme skiers who have heli-skied, and skied down from the very top of mountains that I can only imagine doing.  They also both work for NYC doing sanitation.

The commute from Staten Island to Manhattan is one of the longest commutes in the city, and can sometimes take up one hour to travel a very short distance.  One summer, Mark was sick and tired of his long commute so he decided to try to take a different way to work.  He hooked his jet ski to the back of his car and drove towards the water.

Several times during the summer, Mark rode his jet ski to the private pier of the department of Sanitation, and then after tying his water craft to the pier climbed up the ladder complete with his orange life vest, body soaked with water, and hair encrusted with salt.  He was lucky because he had a locker with a change of clothes at work, and most impressively was able to cut his commute from an hour to fifteen minutes, and became semi-famous because of his creative commuting, and audacious style.

Another occasion Mark and Steve went to Hawaii for a vacation. They had a great time, but Mark was surprised by something he learned about the locals. In Hawaii, many people are very relaxed and often live with an “Olaha spirit” Those who do usually do not rush through life, but rather try to appreciate the moment in the same way they can appreciate a sunset.  This laid back attitude also applies to driving. In particular, unlike New York City, Hawaiians typically don’t honk if you are slow to go through an intersection when a light turns green.

Mark wanted to test this theory.  He got to a light and when the light turned green,  deliberately didn’t drive forward.  The driver behind Mark didn’t honk him once,  but waited the entire time for something to develop. Perhaps the driver behind him assumed that something was wrong with Mark’s car, or wasn’t in a hurry because they were heading to the beach.  Either way, he never honked at all.

Mark  was truly surprised by the driver's lack of response so he decided to do it a  second time.  The light turned green and Mark waited another two minutes, and still the driver behind him didn’t honk once. I don’t know about you, but in New York if you hesitate even a second, many people will give you a blast of their horns let alone a full barrel and a repeating barrel, but the man behind him once again did nothing.

“Fascinating.” Mark said to himself.  He was tempted to try the experiment a third time, but in the the end didn’t have the heart to do it.

Life Lesson 24: When faced with a choice don’t be scared to take the less traveled path. Sometimes it may be more scenic, quicker, or even if not, may be a lot more memorable for you and your friends.  Also, remember to take your time and slow down and appreciate the moment, because in the end, that’s what life is all about, simple moments.  We can learn a lot from the Hawaiian’s, and adopt some of their “aloha spirit” maybe that’s one reason why their life expectancy is the longest in the country. So long in fact, that’s probably why they don’t mind waiting at lights.

Story 23: More Than You Uzbek

After my trip to Turkey, Mike and I continued on to Central Asia focusing primarily on Uzbekistan for a three week jaunt.  We were lucky to have a driver and a guide, although at times our guide was a bit of a jerk, and usually only showed us the party line tour of the country.  

          However, for a country as politically controlled as it is, it still held a lot to see, and we nevertheless had a great time.  There were thousand year old monuments, ancient madrasas, and aside from certain markets most sites were rarely crowed. In fact, sometimes I would deliberately bump into Mike and exclaim, “Excuse me, pardon me.” As if it were very crowded and we would both laugh.

When we returned from our trip I often said to my friends and family that many tourists go to Turkey, some non-American tourists go to Uzbekistan, but Americans never go on vacation to Afghanistan, except us.

Anyway, getting back to Uzbekistan.  I wish I could say that we used our manual transmission driving skills there, but fortunately our guide did all of the work.  We went on many lengthy journeys down dusty roads, and visited several fine local restaurants along the way.  Fine if you enjoy lots and lots of kebab and Lagman soup as I do.  However, my doctor commented that my protein levels were high when I returned from the trip, no surprise there. At least I returned in one piece.

In Uzbekistan they have a motto “Good luck.” It seems to apply all the time and they say it frequently.  For example, when you come to the country, meet a pretty girl, and especially when you are trying to leave the airport, you’ll often hear ”Good luck.” However, I remember being held in a room with a large fat security guard who was poring over my Uzbeki CD collection. (Which someone sold me in the Fargana market and which I later discovered to be all blank.) There seemed to a problem with something in my bag. Turned out to be my multi-purpose tool and swiss army knife.

“Why do you have these?” The official asked gruffly.
I tried to joke with him, but I think the humor went over his head. I should have been more scared to be in that room alone with him, but strangely I was quite calm.

He said he had to confiscate both items even though they were in my checked bag, basically he stole them.  For some reason they are very particular about multi purpose tools and swiss army knives.  I guess they are not very common and are very desirable.  Fortunately, with luck on my side, I made the flight just in time, again.

Getting anywhere in Uzbekistan requires some luck too. The roads rarely have signs, and it seemed that our driver spent a lot of time just trying to find his way.  He often had to ask locals in Russian or Uzbek things like, “Is this the way to Samarkand?”

Most of the people we met while traveling tended to be on donkeys, or vendors selling melon or nasty balls of yogurt on the side of the road.  I remember fondly how Mike tossed yogurt balls out the window after having a bad experience with them.

Then there was the frequent harassment by the police. For that reason alone I am glad we weren’t driving. Apparently, as in many countries, the police are very poorly paid and to make up for it they extort drivers for any infraction real or not.

Typically, you are pulled over and they check your license, but after you give them bribe money you are usually good.  The Uzbek officials are really tough also when crossing borders,  because they count all the money you have.  They search you and if you return to the Uzbekistan with more money they you started with they confiscate the difference.           You also have to keep a record in your passport with exactly how much money you have.  “Good luck getting out of the country with any money.”

When Mike and I walked across the friendship bridge from Afghanistan back to Uzbekistan I felt a sense of relief. When we left Uzbekistan to get back to Turkey we felt more relieved, and when we finally returned to American despite getting my passport photocopied in Turkey,  I felt even more relieved. Daresay, lucky to be home.

Life Lesson 23: Someone once said, “The harder you work, the luckier you are.”  I agree with that statement that we make our own luck. That is why I am not a big believer in lotteries. However, in Yiddish they have an expression too, “Mazel tov.” which means good luck, but also congratulations on your efforts, situation, or good fortune, and those are things we all can work towards in our lives, and I hope all experience too, and If I haven’t said it enough times today,
“Good luck.” on your journey too.

Story 22: He Drives Me Crazy

J.P. is a friend of mine. He is a very good person, very religious, with a big heart, but is also very frenetic, and unfortunately drives the same way he lives, scattered.  For example, he often loses things  like his keys, and when he comes into a room it’s like a storm blowing in. In fact, we often call him, “The Storm.” 

I try to avoid driving with him whenever possible, because he is very easily distracted. Once however he offered to drive the people in our office into NYC for a volleyball game. 

“You guys want to ride with me?” He offered generously.  There was a pregnant pause as we debated the merits of a speedy trip vs. dying horribly along the way. All the while, he looked at us with a stare that would sink a ship piercing you like laser beams. Eventually, we relented and took the risk.

Not long after we entered Manhattan, he reached into the glove box  to find a cd. He did this for a good half a block, and only after someone yelled, “Watch out.” did he screech to a halt at the light and look up.

A few minutes later he took his eyes off the road again, stared at a woman on the street, and remarked, “That woman just gave me an eye bath.” 

        How he noticed anyone from that angle confounded me, but we all laughed along with him.

Since that time, we have also traveled together to Yankees games, and even as far as Philadelphia with no real incidents, but always a good tale.

When J.P. was younger he used to drive a bread truck in Corona, New York. On one delivery he mistakenly parked the car on a hill, but forgot to set the parking brake.  After a few moments, he noticed that the locked car was barreling downhill towards a bodega.

“Runaway truck, runaway truck.” He screamed as he ran downhill to the store.

The truck plowed right into the convenience store (not very convenient for them), but fortunately for everyone, no one was hurt. However, he never delivered another loaf, and we joked that J.P. was better than UPS because he always made his delivery whether the store was open or not.

Another time, J.P. had to drive to Newark Airport. He decided to take the Midtown tunnel into Manhattan.  As he approached the tunnel, he realized that he was too far over to the left, so he got out of his car and started to move some orange traffic cones to allow him to switch lanes. A police officer noticed his actions and started yelling.

“What the hell are you doing?” screamed the officer.

“Sorry, I just need to get to the airport.” J.P. stammered.

“Well, I want you to go back and do it again.” The police officer stated while pointing to the exit ramp.

J.P. started to complain, but after realizing the officer was serious, got back into his car, and proceeded to do a U turn.  After traveling a short distance back into another lane and start heading towards the toll.

Once again, the same police officer got in front of J.P.’s car and started to curse.

“Where the fuck do you think you are going?” bellowed the officer.

“Officer, officer, what did I do? I did it again just like you said.” J.P. explained.

“No, I don’t want you to come into Manhattan today, come back another time, maybe next week when I’m not around.”

“But officer I need to get to the airport.” J.P. persisted.

“Sorry, not today, not this way.” the officer replied while shaking his head no and folding his arms.

Finally, a supervisor came over to see what was taking so long, and after a brief conversation, the first officer gave J.P. a ticket, and allowed him to enter the city.  J.P. later went to court to fight the ticket, but the officer never showed up and the case was thrown out.

Life Lesson 22: As previously advised, be careful when you drive, who you drive with, always be respectful of the law, the agents of the law, and most importantly the laws of physics.  

Story 21: Next Stop Central America

Costa Rica was an awesome trip. I would go back there in a minute.  The roads and public transportation are something else however.  I don’t miss them.  The Tica’s and Tico’s 
(Costa Ricans ) say about public transportation, “Siempre un problema.” (Always a problem.)     While public transportation is very cheap only $5-10 for a 5 hour bus ride, there always seems to be a 50/50 chance the bus could break down, and you would be forced to wait on the side of the road for repairs.

The roads were another problem to be faced, because too often their infrastructure has pot holes, despite this the locals have a reputation for driving them at breakneck speed. So, non-Costa Ricans watch out.  I did however enjoy the fact that the buses were often well air conditioned, and the bus company employees sometimes served you sweetened coffee on the more “expensive” lines.  

        One day, my brother Bruce and I decided that we wanted to visit the Monteverde Cloud Forest. It took two buses and a few hours journey from San Jose, but we were excited to go.  Bruce and I were sitting in the front of the bus while the driver was busily talking to a woman with nice legs.  Our bus was traveling along a busy stretch of road that hugged a sharp drop.  I was nervous enough, but after a while it started to rain too.  Something very common in Costa Rica.   In addition to the rain, the sun started to disappear as well.  

The night started to get darker and darker. I had no idea how the driver could possibly see to drive to Monteverde given all the distractions. Needless to say, Bruce and I were very anxious about the whole experience, but we managed to get to the park unscathed. Thank God.

Life Lesson 21: It’s important to focus on what we can control in life, and not stress so much on what we can’t. Also, when traveling it makes the experience richer when you do things to meet local people, and public transportation can really bring people closer literally and figuratively. For example on another occasion, I saw a man bring a live chicken in a bag onto a different bus.  

      These rich experiences are things that are more priceless than the cost of a more expensive ticket, and we are better for having them as well.  So take that chicken bus or scary bus ride, because so often they are memories that you’ll never forget, just know where you are going, or at least find someone that knows the way, and most importantly how to drive.