Big Daddy Gouda

My eyes popped open and focused on the clock: 6:43 a.m.

I heard the sound, tap tap (pause) tap tap. I had no idea what it was. All I knew was that it had awoken me. I tried to ignore it and go back to sleep.

Tap Tap. (Pause) Tap Tap.

My mind wandered for a moment. Whatever it was seemed to be coming from the next room. I looked toward the window. It seemed rainy. Perhaps the wind had blown the door open and the noise I heard was the door knob banging against the wall.

I considered just leaving it be. I was comfy and tired. I did not want to get out of bed.

I turned over and closed my eyes. Instantly visions of raccoons walking into my house filled my head. Then I thought of some drifter, perhaps wanting to get out of the rain, and, seeing the inviting open door, taking refuge in my house.

Okay, that was it. I popped out of bed and left my room.

I walked down the hall into the adjacent room where the tapping was coming from. To my surprise, the door was closed. What the hell was making that noise?

I heard it again. My eyes followed the noise to the only window in the room. There perched outside the window, staring into the house, was a bird. It was black with an orange spot on its chest. I don’t know what kind of bird it was but it was the bird that you probably see the most in this part of the state. Just a bird.

The bird then flew from the branch it was perched on and crashed into the window, making the tap tap sound that woke me up. It bounced off  the glass and once again settled on the branch. After a few seconds it repeated the process, flew into the window, bounced off, and landed back on the branch.

I immediately assumed the bird had accidentally flew into the window, knocked itself silly and now was simply crazy: Banging its head against the window for no reason, not realizing that it was slowly killing itself.

I walked toward the window and the bird flew away. I shook my head and went back to bed.

Two hours later the all too familiar tapping had returned. The bird was back. This time, since I knew what the noise was, I really did try to ignore it.

I lasted about 15 minutes. This damn bird was persistent. Like clockwork, every 30 seconds, Tap Tap (pause) Tap Tap.

I groaned, got out of bed and headed back to the window. I paused as I entered the room. Sure enough, the crazy bird was back, smashing his body into the window every half minute.

Maybe there were more possibilities than this bird simply being bat shit crazy. Perhaps there was something in the room it wanted. I looked around but saw nothing that would be appealing to a bird: An old ping-pong table covered with junk and a flashlight were all I noticed in the room.

Then my crazy mind that had seen too many movies started to wander. Perhaps there was an evil presence in my house and the bird was drawn to it. Perhaps this bird was possessed by the devil or perhaps it was some sort of zombie bird that wanted to feast on my delicious brains.

I moved toward the window and as it had before the bird flew away.

This time instead of going to bed I sat in front of the computer and immediately went to the all knowing google.com.

I typed in the words “bird trying…” and immeditely the google search bar filled in the rest:  ”…to get into window.”

50 million results came up. Thank God. I wasn’t alone.

Well, after searching about 5 Web sites, the explanation for the bird’s behavior became quite clear and was quite simple actually.

The bird had caught its reflection in the window, thought it to be another bird and wanted to either mate with it or attack it for getting too close to its nest.

Apparently this is a very common occurance. I should have known.

The term “Bird Brain” never held such meaning before.

The internet suggested I cover the window or the bird would keep coming back. That seemed like too much work. I followed a simpler suggestion.

I put an old stuffed animal in the window; a stuffed tiger. I figure that will keep the bird away. 

The next morning as I was preparing to take out the garbage I noticed a hole in the window about the size of a softball. The stuffed tiger was on the floor. One black feather lay beside it. The tiger’s plastic eyes were missing, having seemingly been pecked off….

Um…just kidding.

I haven’t heard the tapping since placing the tiger near the window.

But the other scenario is much cooler and would make a better movie don’t ya think?

BOSTON (Associated Press) - A day after studying tape from city traffic cameras and footage obtained from local news agencies, race officials have determined that a 32 -year-old computer worker from Boston did not cheat in any way, and did in fact win Monday’s Boston Marathon, finishing the 26.2 mile course in just over two hours.

Race officials were skeptical after Connecticut native Jason Maroon, a  bald, stocky, flat-footed city man, won the historic race by out sprinting world class Ethiopian distance runner Deriba Merga.

Race director Edmund Suluski said footage clearly shows Maroon take off at the starting line, weave in and out of city streets, stopping only once to sip water, before finally finishing the race in a near record time of  2 hours, 6 minutes – almost two minutes faster than Merga.

“We poured over hours and hours of footage,” Suluski said. “Not once did he stray from the course.”

Suluski said, as far as the race committee is concerned the case is closed.

“Our job is to uphold the integrity of the Boston Marathon,” he said. “We feel we’ve done that. As far as we’re concerned this Maroon guy is the winner. I don’t know how the hell he did it but a win’s a win.”

Maroon, who decided to run the race early Monday morning, attributes his shocking victory to a long dormant passion for winning, coupled with the need to release tension from everyday life.

“My plan was to start off by jogging and then maybe walk a bit here and there,” Maroon said, Tuesday. “But once I got going that runner’s high kicked in and the rest is history.”

Maroon, who is expecting a baby soon along with his wife Tina, said the stresses associated with family life combined with a poor showing in his Fantasy Baseball League, convinced him to run the marathon.

“I needed a way to clear out my head,” he said. “I figured running a marathon would do the trick.”

Merga, 28, who kept up with Maroon before losing steam on the 25th mile, said his loss to the amateur is the most shocking thing he’s ever had to endure in his 15 year racing career.

“I train for this all year,” Merga said, through an interpreter, “and then I lose to this video game playing computer nerd. I’m sick. Sick, sick, sick.”

Maroon has thus far declined interview requests as well as invitations to appear on the Today Show and Late Night With Dave Letterman, and said he will instead focus on his job and prepare for the birth of his first child.

He also sent his race winnings to family living in the country of Lebanon, where it was revealed Maroon has distant relatives there, possibly living in squalor.

“The race was fun but people are making too big a deal out of it,” he said. “Did I make history, Yes. Did I shock the world, Maybe. But at the end of the day I’m still just Jason.”

I’m surprised I haven’t told this one before.

It was senior year track practice. We were supposed to be on a three mile run through White Memorial, but instead a group of us were goofing off. I believe the group consisted of myself, Bub, Tai, Ads, Joe, and I wanna say Rich Decker?

We stopped in the middle of the woods and began bullshitting. As Bub leaned against a tree, we watched in amazement as the thing shifted. This mutha was loose.

Without even really communicating, we surround the tree.  Everyone found a spot for their hands, and we began pushing back and forth. For some reason we became determined to get this thing out of the ground.

The tree was by no means  a mighty oak.  It was probably about 40 feet high and skinny.  If trees could get sick like humans, I’d say this particular wood had pancreatic cancer.

As we rocked the dying tree back and forth, trying to uproot the thing, giggling like school girls, we failed to notice the 6 foot branch on the tippity top was bending as it was continuously pressed against a giant oak.

SNAP!!

We heard the branch crack with a thunderous snap, reserved for only the finest of movie theaters with digital surround sound.

We looked up and sure enough flailing toward us was a sawed-off six foot branch.

I watched as everyone scattered to the right.  But me, for reasons that will be debated always, scattered to the left.  I must of made it two steps before the decrepit old branch, made more powerful with the speed at which it fell, landed upon the back of my head.

I collapsed to the ground with a thud, the dying branch on top of me.

Before I felt pain, I tasted dirt. The side of my face was pressed into the woodsy ground of White Memorial. I slowly lifted my head and spit. Then the pain kicked in. It was a dull ache at first, running from my head, down to the space between my shoulder blades. Then there was burning on the back of my neck, which was still covered by the broken branch.

I focused my attention in front of me. If there was such a thing as cobwebs, I had them.  My vision, for the moment, was a bit blurred.

About 10 feet before me were my fellow teammates-my friends. Most stood silently, not moving, maybe a bit nervous that I was dying before their eyes. Tai I believe was running toward me. Joe, him I remember clearly. He was leaned against a tree, arms folded across his stomach, eyes closed, mouth open, laughing hysterically.

Tai pulled the branch off me. I remember him and someone else helping me to my feet. I was bombarded by questions: “Are you alright”, “Where did it hit you”, “Why did you run the other way”.

As soon as my friends ascertained that I was OK, they all began laughing. Though they did remain by my side the entire way back to the high school. Thinking back, I must of been walking really really slow.

Back at the high school, I sat on the track and field mats. I was a bit dizzy and the back of my neck really burned. The force of the branch took a little chunk out of my neck, which someone described as “gross”.

As my teammates made the rounds, telling everyone that would listen what happened, two people offered to help me.

I’m not 100 percent sure but I think it was Marcy Warner and….Lisa Cash maybe? (like I said, specifics from the immediate aftermath of the incident are spotty at best).

They went to CVS, bought hydrogen peroxide and band aids, and basically cleaned me up.

I didn’t practice for the rest of the day. I suffered through the worse stiff neck in the history of mankind. I missed the track meet the next day. I endured ribbing from my friends and teammates for the rest of the week. And then it was over….Until the Spring Sports Banquet.

As we were called up one by one to get our varsity letters for track, Hawk, our coach, said he wanted to give me a special award. He handed me a cardboard box.

“We chopped down the tree that fell on ya,” he said, seriously. “And we made a box out of it. We’d like you to have it.”

I grabbed the box, said thank you, and went back to my seat. Was it finally over? Not really.

A few nights later, I stood in Kathleen Ebner’s kitchen, ready to take her to my senior prom. As I nervously waited for her to come down stairs, her father and I stood there in awkward silence.

“So,” he said, his words cutting through the silence like a knife, “Is it really true a tree fell on your head?”

I’m not going to lie, FACEBOOK gives me a lot of good ideas for things to write about.

About two weeks ago, I noticed and then stole the 25 Randoms  post idea, which has since taken off by the way.

 Now, it appears the latest thing is a “Memories” post where people are asked to write random memories about the poster. I filled one out, and let me say, the responses I received  made me smile.

So, here’s what I decided to do. I’m going to delve into my FACEBOOK friends list and write a memory about each person and post it right here on Big Daddy Gouda.

Technology is telling me that I currently have 144 friends (i know KC, point of the story), so I’m not going to do them all at once. Instead I’ll try to do 20 or so a week.

To make it easy, I’m thinking alphabetical order.

And here…we….go…

1. Sabrina “Howard” Allard -  We were partying at Jewett’s house. After a few cocktails you attempted to hop from the stone steps and into the house through the  open front door, and ….you fell on your face. While I should have made sure you were okay, my first instinct, unfortunately, was to laugh in your face. Sorry.

2. Melissa Amicone – Sitting with you at Panchos and gossiping about real estate.

3. Meagan Anderson -Playing charades at Keely and Chuck’s…and kicking your ass!

4. Carrie Anne (Copeland) – Probably our convos over Facebook.  Because of them I feel like I’ve known you forever.

5. Daniel Antonucci – Trying to tackle you during pick-up football games at Bantam Field. You were a fast little fucker.

6. Ethan Antonucci – You called me  on a Monday afternoon. I was depressed the 49ers had lost a football game the day earlier. You said you had a way to cheer me up and you brought me to my first ever UCONN basketball game.

7. Valentina Barbacci – Flirting with you at the Tavern.

8. Kimberly Beach – Sat next to you in study hall when I was a freshman in high school. Mrs Kiesel was the monitor and once told me I should behave because I wouldn’t want the “pretty girl” sitting next to me thinking I was a jerk.

9. Caitlin Benedict – When you were five I told you that if you really believed and got a running start, you could walk through walls. You tried once, fell on your face and your mom sent me home.

10. Corrie Benedict – You went to France one summer for three weeks and I basically moved into your bedroom.

11. Caitlin Bille (chops girlfriend) – You beat me a beerpong and I said something very rude. Before I could apologize you laughed and shot back a zinger that turned my face red.  It was in that moment that I accepted you as one of the group.

12. Andrea Boden – Sitting next to you on the hood of some car sharing a bottle on class night: About 15 hourse before we graduated high school.

11. Carrie “Amrich” Bowen  – Mr. Bucklin hung one of your quotes on the wall in 8th grade: “Everyone’s a little weird, it’s the normal people you have to watch out for.” I’ve always remembered that.

12. Kris Bramley – This one is real easy. Through out junior high, and I’m thinking high school too, you used to “gallop” around the soccer field during recess pretending you were a horse. Deny it, I dare you!

13. Christine Brasacchio – Driving with you 4 hours to NH to visit Meredith at Plymouth State.

14. Lesley “Murphy” Budney – Attending one hell of a rager at your house senior year of high school.

15. Sarah “Sweetman” Carr – See above but insert “Lake House” for house.

16. Dave “Chopper” Carroll – Watching you  go ape shit on Brad Carafino during  a party at Jewett’s for “slapping” you in the face instead of fighting you like a man. That and of course watching you paraded down Main Street in cuffs on Road Race Weekend. I still wish Hawk had provided running commentary for that.

17. Lisa Cash – Sitting on the top of Chickadee Bridge as you taught me the “One fat hen, A couple of duck, three brown bear…” drinking game.

18. Luke Chappius – Making fun of the way Harmony Lucas’s hair blew all over the place as he crashed his symbols together during band concerts.

19. Diana Chappius – Cramming into your living room and watching Delores Claiborne.

20. Katie “Gardner” Cissell – In seventh grade, in a time when girls and boys rarely gave each other unsolicited compliments, you told me  you liked my haircut and it made me look handsome.

That’s all for now…

Coming next time, Becca Clock, Jill Coffey, Laura “Margaitis” Comas, Lauren Cook, David Copperfield  and more!!!

It was a winter morning similar to today. It had rained the whole night. Everything was frozen and school was canceled.

I got dressed and went outside. How fun it was to get a running start and then slide down my semi-steep driveway; kind of like surfing. I slipped a few times but that was part of the fun.

I remember beggin my stepfather not to put sand down so I could spend my day slipping and sliding. Little did I know how much slipping and sliding I’d actually do.

Around lunch time my mother bundled my sister and I up as we were about to journey to the center of Litchfield to do a little shopping.

We lived on route 202 at the time, about a quarter mile away from the Litchfield Green.

We went to Superior Foods so mom could buy a few groceries, then we went to Murphy’s Drug Store where my sister and I were allowed to buy candy.

I remember leaving Murphy’s with a little brown bag filled with goodies.  That’s the only thing I remember about being in the center of town that day….

I opened my eyes. I was on my back on the side of route 202. My mother and sister hovered over me. They were crying. I was confused.

My mother told me I had turned around to say something, slipped and landed on my back.

Mom tells me I was unconscious for about a minute.

When we arrived back home mom called  Doctor Wan K. Moon. He said as long as I wasn’t dizzy, seeing spots or nauseous I should be okay. He also advised her to keep me awake for a few hours.

Aside from a little headache I felt fine.

I remember watching TV for a while until it was time to leave for Torrington and go to  dads for the night.

As we left the house to venture to the car, I noticed the  sidewalk that I had so much fun on earlier in the day  was now covered with sand. I was glad.

As soon as I arrived at dad’s my grandfather gave me the classic concussion test.

“How many fingers am I holding up,” he asked, holding up three digits.

“Three,” I responded.

“Ahh, your fine,” he said, as he went back to watching TV.

It was the only time in my life I  lost consciousness. Aside from passing out a few times from drinking too much, it was the only time I was not in control of whether I stayed awake or slept.

Although I may have been knocked out one day as my friend Bob and I wrestled in my room. Rumor has it he kicked me in the face and dropped me like a ton of bricks. Though, memories from my days with Bob are spotty at best.

Be carefull out there today.

and speaking of falling……………

I woke up and she was there. Naked. Dark skin. Long wavy black hair. Laying next to me, head in her hand, propped up on her elbow.

It took me about five seconds to remember. Then, like a puzzle, it all fell into place. We’d met the night before at a party. I made her laugh. She thought I was interesting. We both drank a bit too much, and here we are. Problem was, I didn’t know her name. I knew I knew it last night, but it escaped me now.

By the looks of her, I thought it might be something exotic. She had that look. I’d describe it as islandy.

“Good morning,” she said, with some sort of accent. Brazilian maybe?

“Good morning,” I said, back. Before I could say anything else, like the wrong name, she started kissing me. Not passionately, kind of like a married couple or at least a couple who were very comfortable with each other.

The next thing I knew it was the middle of the day. The sun was shining but it was cold. We were walking together and we had coffee in our hands.

“What do you want to do,” she asked.

As I answered, “I don’t care, it’s up to you,” I thought how odd, that it seemed like only seconds ago we were in my bedroom kissing and now we were walking in the sunny cold, drinking coffee.

Also strange, I was in love with this girl I’d known about 12 hours. And she loved me. She didn’t say it and neither did I. It was just a fact that didn’t need to be proved.

As happy as I was something didn’t seem right. That thought was at the forefront of my mind as we got into my jeep…..

My eyes popped open. The TV was on, as it is every morning when I wake up. I was in my bed. I was alone.

Her face was still in my mind and the love I felt for this woman as we walked in the sun was still with me. Her face, though clear in my mind was disappearing, along with it, this phony love created by a mind that wanders at will while the rest of me sleeps.

People dream every night. Some dreams we remember, most we don’t. Sometimes, as I’m dreaming I even know I’m dreaming. If I am uncomfortable in a dream, I am a master of shaking myself awake. I do this a lot during nightmares.

This dream, the one about the girl, was one of those odd ones. Odd because they seem so real. Unlike a dream but more like a vivid memory.

I’ve been having those dreams a lot lately. The ones that seem all too real. Let me just say, I’m not on any sleep aids, anti-depressents or anti-smoking pills, that some people have told me cause really wild dreams. None the less, for the last week, I’ve been having crazy crazy night time adventures.

This past week, besides being in love, I’ve been chased by criminals, I’ve been a criminal myself, I got shot in the head, didn’t feel any pain and didn’t die, I’ve been 31 years old in my brain but stuck back in high school without any of my friends and in danger of failing and, an old flame, once again, wanted me. Yup, that’s been my week.

I was discussing these dreams with a co-worker of mine and he actually had a pretty good theory. He thought maybe my dreams, like anyone else’s, are fucked up everynight. However, for some reason, over the last week, I’ve just done a better job remembering them.

Does that mean the craziest dreams are taking place right before I wake up and that’s why they stick in my mind? Is that how it works?

I guess I should be thankful that crazy dreams are all I have to deal with as I sleep. I have one friend on Ambien who wakes up in the middle of the night, eats raw bacon and has no recollection of it the next morning.

Mmm bacon…….

There is currently a forward circulating Facebook where it asks participants to list 25 random facts about themselves and then pass it on. I’ve been reading other peoples. ( i didn’t know Amy was on the radio?) But, rather than take part on Facebook, I’d rather do it here, where I’ve always shown  preferential treatment over Facebook and, ahem, Myspace.

Here are 25 Random and not so Random things about me that you may or may not know.

1. I’ve had 7 sexual partners

2. I’ve never done Heroin, Crack, Meth or Ecstasy but I’ve tried pretty much everything else.

3. I’m a member of Match.com

4. On the rare instances where I get my coffee from Dunkin Donuts I get a medium Toasted Almond, light and sweet.

5. I have songs by Justin Timberlake, New Kids on the Block and Enya on my IPOD.

6. I’ve faked an orgasm

7. I rented the movie Sweet November with Keanu Reeves and Charlize Theron and watched it alone.

8. Most of my “crushes” are either out of my league or married and more often than not, both.

9. Usually when I go to the movies in Waterbury I buy my ticket from the machine using my credit card and I always select “child” or “senior citizen” so I can get the ticket for cheap. At the Waterbury Mall they never EVER check.

10. I watch Greys Anatomy

11. I’ve seen Twilight 4 times. 3 at the movies and once illegally online.

12. I read Aprille’s diary while she was in class.

13. I can spot a dark soul as easily as I can spot a pure one. Ask me about someone and I’ll tell you what they are all about.

14. Lately the song I’ve been singing in the shower is “All these things that I’ve done” by The Killers”.

15. I’ve performed stand up comedy on a New York stage 3 times. The first time I was good. The second time I KILLED and the third time I bombed. I never returned after the bombing.

16. I can’t remember the last time I hugged my father- Probably not since elementary school. I’ve never said “I love you” to him. I’ve hugged my sister twice, the day I graduated and the day I left for college. I hug my mother every time I see her. I tell her I love her as we say our goodbyes on the phone or in person.

17. After a night of partying, rather than sleep on someone’s floor or in a strange bed, I’ve driven home drunk.

18. 95 percent of the time I shave, I do it in the shower, rather than over the sink in front of the mirror.

19. Some songs that I used to love but now I can’t stand include “Black” by Pearl Jam and “Mr Jones” by The Counting Crows.

20. I’ve only truly loved one woman in my lifetime.

21. I can eat anchovies plain, right out of the can.

22. From 2001 to 2003 I’d say I was in the best shape of my life. I didn’t eat fast food and I exercised daily. At the height of this three year health kick, I was running 3-6 miles a clip, three or four times a week. On days  I didn’t run I was lifting weights.

23. I was obsessed with the Jagger/Brenda/Jason love triangle on General Hospital.

24. Some odd things I find attractive in women are eyes that sparkle, small feet and jean overalls.

25. I can remember all the jobs I’ve ever had, in order: Maintenance worker at Lakeride, Lodge Attendant at Lakeridge,  Age of Video, Patco, Liquor Depot, Blockbuster, Nicholas Pizza, Erotic Empire, Domino’s Pizza, Jeep Salesman at Northwest Hills, Insurance Agent at CIGNA, Nicholas Pizza again. The Register Citizen.

Thanks to some old  photos circulating on Facebook depicting “old school”, I’ve been thinking a lot today about life as a student .

In honor of my schoolboy days, here are 12 random memories from my 12 years in the public school system.

Kindergarten through 12th grade was spent in Torrington at Vogel Wetmore, while 4th through 12th grade was spent in Litchfield at the Center, Middle and High School

KINDERGARTEN:On the first day of school our teacher, Mrs Minetti, told us we’d be storing stuff in our “cubicles”. I thought she said “bugles” as in trumpets. I remember getting nervous and almost crying because I didn’t have a “trumpet”.

1st GRADE: I used to sit next to a “slow” kid named Andrew. He never talked. When I was bored I used to pinch his side till he said “Ow”, just to hear him speak.

2nd GRADE:Mrs Campbell was my teacher. A fat 30 year old woman, who, for some reason, hated me. She caught me chewing gum once and made me stick it on my nose. She also made me sit out of the Easter Egg hunt because I “misbehaved” at lunch. A fellow student, Clayton Demming, shared his Easter candy with me after the hunt because he felt sorry for me. If I ever hit the lottery I hope to find Clayton and share some of my riches with him.

3rd GRADE:I remember watching a talent show. Some little kid, a first grader, with the nickname “Chicky” performed a magic trick. I remember all the older girls in the school thought “Chicky” was adorable. Some of you reading this may know Chicky today by his real name, Charles Anderson aka Keely Weik’s husband.

4th GRADE:I was the new kid in a new school. On my first day, some raggedy looking dude sat next to me at lunch, attempting to make friends. His name was Jermiah Manning. He asked me if I wanted to know a secret. “Sure,” I said. With a strait face and a serious tone, Jermiah told me his father had died a year earlier when The Challenger space shuttle exploded.

5th GRADE:Aimee Pelletier sat next to me in Mrs Goldsmith’s class and in the process became my first real crush. In the years that followed a lot of boys had crushes on Aimee, but I still think I noticed her first.

6th GRADE: Sitting on the bus on the way home from school I threw up all over some little kid named Joey. The bus driver asked me why I didn’t let her know so she could have let me off the bus. “Because I didn’t know it was coming”, I said.

7th GRADE:I had two “serious” girlfriends by junior high school standards: Mina Gavell and Danielle O’dell. They both dumped me. Mina had her friend Christine do the honors, while Danielle had her friend Becky dispatch of me.

8th GRADE:Ed Federovich was calling me names all day. As we were getting out of school I cornered him and gave him a charlie horse by driving my knee into his thigh. His eyes rolled back into his head and he lost consciousness, I assume from the pain. I called him later that day and apologized. We became friends.

9th GRADE:Mike LaMere called me a “blimp” in the middle of drafting class and cracked the whole class up. I went home and told my father I was going on a diet. He knew I was serious so he bought me an exercise machine. I worked out every day after school for the entire year. When I returned to school in 10th grade I had lost about 30 pounds and stayed that way until college ruined everything.

10th GRADE:I called  Becca Clock one Saturday night while she was eating soup and watching Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman. I told her I had a crush on her and asked her if she was interested in me. I was met with awkward, deafening silence. While it was embarrassing at the time, that phone call led to a great friendship and she became one of my best friends through out the rest of my high school life and beyond.

11th GRADE:Myself and Ethan Antanucci fought over Ari Wilson. Turned out she loved Jeff McKeever.

12th GRADE:My mother went away for a weekend over the New Years Eve holiday. I basically invited the whole school to a party at her house. We had all been to parties before but this was the first one any of us had truly hosted. Someone went to the hospital, someone put a hole in the wall, people hooked up, people puked all over both bathrooms and people from WAMOGO crashed the party. KC and the girls saved me an ass whoopin by organizing a cleaning party the next morning while I slept. The bash was dubbed “Walt’s Part 1″ as I had a similar party 7 months later over the summer. Though it was 14 years ago, I remember it like it was yesterday. Thinking about that night always puts a smile on my face and I  think those in attendance will always remember it. Except for Christine. She left early to ring in the new year with Jeremy.

…………………….

The last class I ever had in school was English with Doc Selli. The bell rang and as we were leaving class for the last time someone shouted “We’re finally free”.

Doc said, “Guys, you’ve never been more free.”

Those that heard him laughed.  I think I rolled my eyes.

My God, how right he was.

…………………………..

New Years Eve, my favorite night of the year, is 2 days away!  It’s not just the partying I love.  It’s the energy, excitement, atmosphere, and closeness of friends that make this holiday so fun for me. Here’s a quick rundown of New Years past.  Chances are if you’re reading this you’ve been a part of at least one or all of them:

95: I remember sitting in Adam’s tiny bedroom about a week before New Years Eve.  There were probably 8 of us in the room.  I told them all that my mother was leaving for the weekend and I’d be home alone.  The big discussion was not whether or not to have a party, but what adult was gonna buy us the keg!  Besides the complete destruction of my mother’s house, what I recall most about ’95 was the Midnight countdown.  I was in the upstairs bathroom, throwing up.  I could hear everyone downstairs counting down from 10.  As everyone cheered at the stroke of midnight, I had but one thought…I was graduating in 5 months.

96: My mother was once again going away.  If 25 people were at my mom’s house the year before, then 60 were planning on coming this year.  The keg was ordered, excitement filled the air.  Except for one problem, my mother canceled her trip on New Years Eve day.  We spent the whole day trying to decide what to do.  Around 8o’clock Christine called us at Tai’s. Her parents were gone.  She was worried about the damage that could be done to her house after what happened to mine the year before…but under the pressure of 50 animals waiting to party, she caved.  The night started with Bub declaring “Everyone starts with 5 shots!!”  I recall an incident in the middle of the party, Christine’s older brother Anthony stopped by.  What a site he walked into.  Roughly 50 underage kids, drinking, dancing, smoking, playing cards, making out in bedrooms.  “Are you mad?” Christine asked.  Anthony’s New Years Eve Response: “It’s not my house.”

97:This year we decided to do a little traveling.  Our friend Larry Sullivan was housesitting down by the ocean in Clinton CT.  If you attended Litchfield High School between 93-96, chances are you attended one of Larry’s parties. They were legendary.  We were more than happy to travel the hour to party with Larry.  My most vivid memory from this party, My stupid friends jumping into the Atlantic Ocean shortly after midnight.  Talk about a sobering experience.

98: More traveling! This year we went to Bub’s apartment in Boston.  4 carloads of us made the pilgrimage.  Except for cooter who had to work until 10 back in Litchfield.  It was in this moment that the first ever New Years Eve Miracle occurred.  Cooter, along with his travel companion Krista, walked into Bub’s place just as the clock struck midnight.  Up until that second we didn’t think he was coming at all.  Rumor has it that he arrived to bub’s at 11 and waited outside till midnight to make a GRAND entrance, but that’s just a rumor.

99:This year kicked off the first in what would be a UCONN triple header.  We were celebrating at Jewett’s apartment.  My most vivid memory from this party: Adam, with his size 11 sneaker stepping on poor Keely’s head in the middle of the night as he tried to make it to the bathroom in the dark.  How startling was this for poor Keely?  Her response to being stepped on, “He’s killing me!”

2000( The Millennium): New Years 2K will always be my favorite New Years of them all.  And I really don’t know why.  I’d say about 30 of us crammed into Jewetts apartment again.  But something was different, maybe the energy level was higher because of Y2K.  It just seemed as everyone appreciated the company of friends so much.  I remember midnight like it was yesterday, we were rocking out to Prince’s 1999. ( duh ) As the countdown started I remember standing up on the couch and looking out into the sea of people in the living room.  Everyone was smiling, and hugging, and drinking, and counting.  As I glanced around the room I made eye contact with Jewett.  He smiled at me.  This was his party, and I didn’t remember the last time I had so much fun…eh, who am I kidding, we just drank alot more booze than usual that year….i wonder if Jewett ever found his keys?

2001:My favorite New Years, Y2K, was followed by my least favorite, 2001.  There was only a small group of us that ventured to Uconn.  Not at Jewett’s this year.  Instead we were at Carriage House.  Most people at the party I didn’t know, the music was too loud and too thugged out.  Maybe I was just expecting too much after 2000.  Who knows, I just know for the first time ever I was psyched to pass out early.

2002: This year was somewhat a return to form. For the first time since 96 we didn’t have to travel more than an hour to get to the party.  This year New Years was held at Cooter’s house on Highland lake in Winsted.  The group was once again big, and I believe the New Years Spirit that was lost the year before had been rediscovered.  At the stoke of midnight I put on U2′s Beautiful Day, which was very popular at the time.  Everyone sung and danced along.  New Years was back and I couldn’t of been more happy.

2003-2004( The Dark Years): For 2003, and 2004 New Years was held in Harwington at Cooter and Gruzzy’s place.  I’m lumping these 2 together because as far as I’m concerned it’s basically the same party repeated twice.  I honesty have memories from these parties but I can’t distinguish between the 2.  I remember being really sick for one of them. I remember gruzzy flipping out cuz someone had fallen asleep in his bed, I remember Adam passed out under a desk, but I don’t know where or when these instances occurred.  I have very vivid memories of every New Years except these 2.  I know I had fun, I know everyone came, but these parties just seemed more ordinary than a typical New Years bash. Eh, maybe it’s because I was strung out on Vicodin.

2005: The 10 year anniversary was held at the Jewett’s in Danbury.  Simply put, it was a good time.  I was disappointed that Bub was sick and couldn’t go, and that Tai couldn’t go cuz his scary girlfriend wouldn’t let him, but other than that I have no complaints.  Played a little beerpong, played some poker and some setback until the wee hours of the morning.  As much as I love cards I just feel I should’ve partied more this year.  I feel like I was a bit unsocial at this New Years.  Who knows, maybe it’s because I had nothing to say to Jewett’s boring teacher friends.

2006: Goddammit it’s time for a change!! I’ve always said I fear change, but like Keely always said to me, “Walt, you need to grow up!” This year for the first time in the history of New Years, we are going out.  No more house parties for us.  A group of 10 are venturing to Boston to explore the unknown, a New Years Eve on the town.  Thanks to Erin Peck.  Her college friends are renting out a bar, Mr Dooley’s right in the heart of Boston.  For $80 I can eat and drink all the Red Bull and Vodkas I want.  I’m a bit disappointed that all my friends can’t be there, but I’ve grown to accept that fact over the years.  Part of me is hoping that by doing something different on New Years Eve, maybe I can recapture a bit of that magic that disappeared after 2000.  Or maybe not, maybe it’ll never come back.  But I suppose that’s okey.  I suppose it’s the memories that are important.  Good times or Bad times, I can’t wait to make some new memories Saturday Night.  Happy New Year Everyone!!!

 My Grandfather John died 10 years ago today.  He died on a Friday, 3 days before what would of been his 72ND birthday.  In the years following his death, especially the holidays, it was very odd not having him around.  His empty seat at the dinner table was eerie.  But now, 10 years later, it seems more normal not having him with us.  Almost like it’s always been this way, and the man I knew for 18 years as “grampy” is just a surreal memory.

I know this is how it’s supposed to be.  Grandparents die.  I once had a college professor say, “If I had a nickel for every time someone told me a grandparent died, I could retire” I think I’ve actually used the excuse myself.  Not only to miss classes, but especially to miss work. I guess to most people grandparents are the ones who spoil you while you’re young and then become a burden to visit as you get older.  Trust me I know.  I kinda got that exact thing going on with my grandmother right now. But that’s another story.

I believe my childhood with grampy was a bit different than most. My grandfather voluntarily retired early so he could take care of my sister and I while our parents worked.  Instead of going to daycare or to a babysitter, everyday after school we’d go to grampys.  I didn’t know how special it was that he was doing it for us back then, I just figured all grandparents watched the kids.  Little did I know how unique our situation was.

My grandfather couldn’t cook so he’d take us to burger king for supper.  He wasn’t a big fan of cartoons so we’d spend the day watching Green Acres and All in the Family reruns.  Although I think he liked Scooby Doo.  He was old and couldn’t really “rough-house” with us, but I do recall him taking us to an indoor mini golf course on occasion and most often the local park.

I remember my grandfather always made jokes. Thinking back now, they were actually pretty lame, but I know he was just doing it to make his grand kids laugh. He loved to play games with us, whether it be hide and seek, bingo, or a number of card games like war, old maid, or go fish. 

Yes, I can honestly say in the years before my sister and I made friends with other kids, and got involved in school activities, grampy was our best friend.  I don’t think we took anything for granted. We simply assumed that this was the way all kids had it. I know my grandfather was happy just having us around.  Whether or not we truly appreciated it did not matter to him.

I remember when I left home at age 18 for college my grandfather had tears in his eyes.  His mind was going, and he no longer drove or left the house, but he was still able to realize that I was leaving and it meant he’d be seeing me less and less.

When I came home for my Christmas break, the man I once knew in childhood as my best friend was no longer there.  He was still alive, but he was so sick he couldn’t interact with the family.  He spent his days in bed and quite honestly I didn’t mind.  I felt bad for his condition and seeing him in that state was heartbreaking.

It was February 16th 1996.  It was the middle of the night.  I was sleeping soundly on the bottom bunk in my dorm room.  I remember feeling an odd sensation in my chest.  It wasn’t pain or discomfort.  I almost felt like there was a small balloon inside me, and it popped, and out came this odd little ball of energy that sorta numbed and warmed me.  The feeling lasted for about half a second.  Although it was brief it was noticeably unfamiliar.  As soon as this sensation was gone I heard a voice in my head that said “someones gone”  To this day I don’t know if I was dreaming or not.

I was awoken later that morning at 7:30 by the phone ringing.  I didn’t move.  The voicemail picked up.  Tai, my roommate at the time, got out of bed to go listen to the message.  I lay still in bed not letting him know whether I was awake or not. 2 minutes later I heard Tai walk up to my bed.  He stood there, I suppose not knowing what to say.  I turned over. “I should probably call home huh”  Tai looked a little bewildered by my comment, but he quietly said, “Yes”

It was no surprise what my mother told me, “Grampy died”  I felt numb, but I wasn’t in shock, and I didn’t cry.  I was sad grampy was gone, but I had a deeper sadness for my father.  My father had always been strong but I knew this was gonna be tough for him.  An hour later, after I showered, I called my sister.  “Are you okey?” I asked.  Her voice began to crack. “I’m fine…..I just feel bad for Dad.”

It started snowing by the time I was back home.  It snowed the whole weekend.  I didn’t tell anyone about my grandfather right away.  I guess you could say I was embarrassed to see people.  I didn’t like the idea of friends and loved ones hugging me and telling me how sorry they were.  It’s not the loss that bothered me it was the emotion and support from everyone that I couldn’t deal with. That’s what made me uneasy. I was afraid that’s what would make me cry.

My grandfather’s funeral was on a Monday morning.  The snow from the weekend had stopped.  It was a sunny day.  It was strange going to my grandfathers funeral on what would of been his 72nd birthday, but I guess that’s just how it works sometimes.

The wake and funeral were hard, especially seeing all my father’s co-workers, our neighbors on the street, and all the old men and women my grandfather grew up with.  Oddly, at the same time, it was a great sense of relief.  Adam and Tai came to the funeral and it felt good having them there.  My mother, who had been divorced from my dad for 15 years, was invited to sit with the family.

After the funeral everyone came back to our house.  People ate, drank coffee, and told stories about grampy.  The uncomfortable weight that had been in the house for the past 2 days was gone.  I left for college with Adam and Tai later in the day. I slept the whole way back…

There were some hard times down the road.  Holidays especially.  Or when my Grandmother would run into one of my grandfathers old friends and they’d start to reminisce. But eventually, like it’s supposed to, everything got easier.

  Now 10 years later, as I stated, it’s hard to remember “exactly” what it was like having grampy around.  Sometimes I dream about him.  The dreams are weird.  In the dreams he’s back from the dead.  I never dream of old times.  It’s always present day, and Grampy’s there, and as much as he tries to interact with me in the dream, I’m always telling him, “You’re not supposed to be here….You’re supposed to be dead”

So that’s it.  My first experience with death was tough.  But it’s tough for everyone.  I don’t think for one second me losing a grandparent is any different than anyone else losing someone.  But grandfather or not, old man or young, sick or healthy, weak minded or strong, I loved him.  I appreciate the sacrifices he made for me and my sister as we grew up. I don’t have to look back and worry about whether or not he knows that.  For some reason I just know he does…