There is currently NO TEST to detect ovarian cancer.  Discovery to Cure is getting very close to approval for one.

Hope to see you at beautiful Sherwood Island State Park in Westport on September 12.

Join us for a celebratory reception on Tuesday, July 20 from 6-9pm.  Cash bar.  And my photos ARE for sale!

Our team has already managed to get themselves into last place and then into first place and then back to last place within the first month and a half of the season.

And now, mid-May brings two of the Mets starting pitchers missing from the roster.

Guess we should be used to that.

Oliver Perez picked up where he left off last season, walking the ballpark.  And he’s in the second year of an unimaginable $36 million contract.  (Scott Boras is GOOOOD)  Now Ollie has been shipped off to the bullpen rather than going down to Triple A where he SHOULD go.  And Jonathan Niese who thus far has been pretty good has reinjured the hamstring that cut his season short last year

But don’t worry Mets fans.  We will now be treated to the 35 year old knuckleballer named R.A. Dickey as a starting pitcher.

And Japanese pitcher Hisanori Takahashi who has never started a game here in the States but has been an effective arm in the Mets bullpen this year is now also a starting pitcher.

Jose Reyes, who many consider the key to this team, is back on the field as our starting shortstop but has yet to get his bat in gear.

New acquisition and alleged “big bat” Jason Bay can’t get a hit with guys on base.

Right fielder and dreamy guy Jeff Francoeur got off to a blazing start but has since gone cold and was actually benched the other night.

(note: my first Citifield purchase of the 2010 season if you don’t count a beer and a pulled pork sandwich from Blue Smoke was a Francoeur tee shirt).

David Wright is swinging at some pretty awful pitches although at this writing he has 8 homeruns equaling the total number of homeruns he hit for the entire 2009 season.

Some guy named Carlos Beltran is supposed to show up at some point before October to play centerfield.  Can’t wait to meet him.

On the upside, the Mets have two pretty good hitting catchers in Rod Barajas and Henry Blanco.

And 22 year -old rookie first baseman Ike Davis has been a ray of sunshine…he can hit AND he can play first base!

At the end of April the Mets won, I think, 10 out of 11 games on a long home stand that propelled them from worst to first in the NL East.  For a week or two sports reporters applauded the Mets and their remarkable turn around.

But then they went back on the road and started losing again.

Perhaps the Wilpons can arrange to put large photos of Citifield around whatever ballpark the Mets are playing in.  Or paint a view of the field of Ciifield on the inside of the Mets players’ sunglasses.  If they think they’re home maybe they will play like they are.

And now the talk of when manager Jerry (umm, ahhh, umm) Manuel will be fired and/or when general manager Omar Minaya might meet the same fate has heated up again.

I, for one, never wanted to see Bobby Valentine leave but I think the chances of the Wilpons bringing him back are about as slim as there ever being an honest politician.  For one thing, he’s too expensive.

For my May 9 birthday this year, we spent the day at Citifield (when I bought the aforementioned Francoeur shirt) hoping the Mets would sweep their series against the Giants.  They didn’t.  It was sunny but brutally windy at Citifield and we were bundled in multiple layers of clothing.

Our next Citifield adventure happens this Saturday night when we will watch the Mets play the Yankees.  There are two real pitchers pitching: Mike Pelfrey and Phil Hughes.  Maybe we’ll see a good game.

It’s gonna be a long season but I love it.

It’s been a long, cold winter in Connecticut and recently Bob and I made the decision to spend money we don’t have and go to Florida for a week.

Around 5:00 the night before our Jet Blue flight was scheduled to leave White Plains airport, I logged on to the airline website only to discover our flight was cancelled. Since Jet Blue only gives you the option of being notified of any flight changes TWO HOURS before your departure time we would not have known had I not decided to check. It had snowed heavily that day in Westchester and apparently White Plains airport can’t handle the weather the way the New York City airports can.

Panic ensued.

After being on hold for 20 minutes with Jet Blue, I found myself speaking with a very nice woman who, it became quickly apparent, had no clue as to what she was doing.

Not good.

I should have hung up THEN and redialed Jet Blue for another operator.

But I didn’t. She was too nice.

She appeared to be having trouble even accessing Jet Blue flights on her computer; I had to tell her there was a flight the next day out of JFK that we would like to get on. When she informed me that there were seats on that flight but because of some new system she couldn’t book us and would need to TRANSFER us to the “change desk” I knew exactly what I would hear next. I thanked her for her help and then I heard it: DIAL TONE. I had been disconnected.

After another 30 minutes on hold with Jet Blue, Bob (it was HIS turn now) spoke with another woman who informed us that the flight we had been told had seats available was now FULL. We now had no other option but to lose a day and fly out the following morning. We would have to eat one night of our hotel and all likely due to the incompetence of the nice lady I had spoken with at Jet Blue and had opted not to hang up on.

Incidently, an e-mail to Jet Blue written by me that night in an angry and somewhat drunken stupor has gone unanswered to date.

So we got there a day late and a few hundred dollars short.

Our time on Sanibel Island was wonderful; unfortunately, although sunny, the weather barely topped 60. A very gusty wind meant we never put on bathing suits but instead spent a few hours on the beach fully dressed in layers: jeans, sweatshirts, jackets, hats, sneakers. Even in layers we could only stand to stay about an hour before we were just too cold and felt sort of ridiculous. We came home as pale as we were when we left Connecticut.

But it was beautiful.

We visited the wildlife refuge several times and each time saw different birds (many photos are on my Facebook page and soon will be on my website too: www.pamlandry.com…I’ve also included a couple of pictures here) including the stunning and bizarre bright pink roseate spoonbills (sort of a cross between a flamingo and a duck-billed platypus) lots of osprey, herons and egrets.

And from the “small world” department, mid-week I received a message through Facebook (gotta love the wireless internet) from our friends Rick and Peg who live in Greenwich. They had found out through a mutual friend that we were on Sanibel. We all live in Connecticut yet we can’t ever manage to get together.

So we had dinner together in Florida.

The last evening of our adventure on Sanibel could have ended very badly and it had nothing to do with a nice but clueless woman from Jet Blue.

See, by week’s end we were running low on toilet paper and instead of bothering the owner of the property, we just took a roll from the supply shed in the backyard. This turned out to be a mistake as damp toilet paper just doesn’t do “the job”.

Perhaps we might put it in the microwave, briefly, to dry it out?

I am not sure at what point we started to smell something burning; turns out Bob had put the toilet paper roll in the microwave but instead of setting it for under a minute he had inadvertently set it for FIVE MINUTES. Our toilet paper was BURNING. Bob grabbed it and, looking like a cartoon character, juggled the smoldering roll out to the backyard. Now our apartment smelled like something was on fire; miraculously the smoke alarm did NOT go off. We opened windows to air out the joint. A few hours later the property owner called us to ask if everything was okay; some of the other guests had called him concerned that something was on fire.

No we just overcooked our toilet paper. Everything’s fine.

Fortunately he laughed and said his biggest concern was that we would go home and tell people he provides toilet paper that needs to be microwaved before use.

No sir you just rent your apartments to stupid people from Connecticut.

The next morning Bob fetched the well-done roll of toilet paper from the yard. It was barely recognizable as a roll of toilet paper. We left beautiful Sanibel with the faint smell of burning in the air of our apartment and a good laugh at something that could have been a complete disaster but, lucky for us, simply became story fodder.

As far as we know there is no warrant out for our arrest in Florida.

Any support is welcomed.  Link is below:

https://www.revlonrunwalk.com/ny/secure/MyWebPage.cfm?pID=540711&CFID=1195979&CFToken=660b3ae35ebe5475-43DB5F84-D56B-8660-9B6A73C05976CF1A

After looking at their website, I e-mailed the photo shop and they responded. Their selection of cameras was limited so I focused (pun intended) on an improved model of what I already owned.

Yes they carried the Olympus 9000.

Price?

$299

My on-line research showed that I could purchase the same camera for as little as $189.

After e-mailing the shop back and informing them of this I got no response.

A few days later I decided to send another e-mail saying I’d “come in” and look at the camera.

The photo shop e-mailed me back that the camera was now “on sale” for $249. I found this interesting on several levels.

Wanting to give my business to a local merchant, I figured I had nothing to lose by at least going there. My friend K decided she’d come along to negotiate. K is very good at negotiating. Me: not so much.

I arrived at the photo shop before K and headed for the camera counter. A guy named Ray was finishing up with another customer.

Ray barely acknowledged me. I tried to chat him up about how cold the weather was but he was not very interested in being chatted up. When I told him which camera I wanted to see he couldn’t find it in the cabinet. I pointed it out to him. He took it out and handed it to me.

“What can you tell me about it”? I asked.

“What would you like to know?” answered Ray.

It quickly became clear that Ray was not interested in selling me the camera. Perhaps a more expensive camera would have motivated Ray. I will never know.

Ray told me nothing about the camera nor did he even provide me with an owner’s manual to flip through.

I had brought with me two pieces of paper with internet printouts showing the same camera selling for much less money on two different websites. When I pulled them out of my bag and put them on the counter, Ray lightly pushed them away with a dismissive motion. He (who by now I hand nicknamed ‘Ray of Sunshine’ but just to my inner voice) told me that “those places” can sell their merchandise for less because they buy in bulk and “might not always be reputable”.

“B&H isn’t reputable?” I said.

“Well, yeah THEY are,” said Ray.

Okay so I got the “buy in bulk” thing. But Ray was not giving me a reason to spend the extra cash with him. If Ray was the poster boy for the sort of customer service I could expect from my local merchant, then I could expect nothing.

“You can’t do any better than $249?” I asked. “I’d like to buy the camera here.”

Ray said no and that it wasn’t up to him. But then, suddenly, Ray told me to wait there.

In a few minutes he returned and said “$225”.

Ray had spoken to “the boss” who took $25 bucks off the “sale price”. Final offer.

I thought it was better than nothing and some sort of indication that they might actually want my business.

I continued to play with the camera. Ray just stood there.

K arrived and off to the side asked for a status update. I filled her in and then she went to work.

“So $225 is the best you can do? Shouldn’t local merchants try to negotiate with their customers to try to get repeat business?” said K.

Ray said nothing.

K continued, “I’ve spent a bit of money here over the years…my wedding pictures, pictures of my kids….”

Ray was clearly annoyed by K. K looked at me. “Ray of sunshine” we both said at once.

Ray and I discussed memory cards. Cameras don’t come with them, they cost extra but not a lot. I asked what they charged for one. I think Ray said “$12” or something like that but I already was planning on getting one cheaper on Ebay.

“C’mon Ray. Throw in a memory card,” said K. “Isn’t $12 worth getting a happy, repeat customer?”

Ray ignored her.

I told Ray I would buy the camera.

Ray reached under the counter and produced a coupon for free 4×6 prints.

“Could I have one of those?” asked K.

“No,” said Ray.

K and I looked at each other. Okay then.

“If you buy a camera you get one,” said Ray. Ray of sunshine.

Ray didn’t even have enough of a sense of humor to give K a crappy little coupon as a friendly gesture. Nope. That’s what I call great local customer service. Someone really needs to tell Ray that a little sense of humor goes a long way.

I handed K the coupon.

“Thanks. No. That’s yours. And besides I won’t be coming back here anyway.”

Ray was probably thrilled to hear that.

But the reality is that because of Ray, my local camera shop lost two customers. I got my camera for a good price only because of the gift card. Ray gave me no reason to ever return.

When K and I approached the cashier, K said “you oughtta tell Ray to lighten up a little.”

The cashier smiled but didn’t say anything.

“I know you can’t say anything but I can tell you agree,” said K.

The cashier laughed.

I am not a local merchant but I could be a customer. It seems to me that local merchants ought to be acting as if they want my business, not as if I am an annoyance or some sort of interruption in their day. Local merchants cannot afford to alienate their customers. If you are a local merchant and you employ people like Ray you are shooting yourself in the foot. If anything, local merchants should be going out of their way to get customers to spend their dollars at their stores.

And as an added note to local merchants, you never know when your customer has a microphone at her disposal and might use it to tell other potential customers her story…on the air, on the radio.

One afternoon last week I was returning home from doing a show at The Peak in White Plains (www.1071thepeak.com) when I found 2 strangers standing in my driveway, a third stranger taking pictures of my house and a fourth standing around in the street.

I opened the driver’s side window and informed them that if they didn’t move I would be running them over.

“She used to live here!” said the fourth standing around stranger.

I pulled in and parked and jumped out of the car.

“Okay…who used to live here?” I asked.

“She did.” Fourth stranger pointed at a small older woman…one of the two people who had been standing in my driveway. “And today is her 90^th birthday!”

I looked at this small, older woman who didn’t look 90, and hugged her. I asked her name.

“Marcia. I lived here when I was a little girl.”

Introductions were made all around. With Marcia were her son and daughter-in-law who came down from Maine to celebrate Marcia’s landmark birthday and her nephew who lives in Woodbridge. Marcia lives in New Haven now and explained that she “doesn’t drive anymore” which I was happy to hear.

“Would you like to come inside?” I asked. “The house is a mess. If I’d known you were coming…”

Of course they all said they didn’t want to impose but I knew Marcia very much wanted to see the house. And, besides, it was no imposition at all; I was fascinated by the whole turn of events and wanted to hear what the house looked like when Marcia lived there.

The nephew left but Marcia, her son and daughter-in-law came inside. I asked Marcia if she had any photographs of the house from when she had lived in it. Since our house was built in 1930 as a beach house, she would have been in her early teens when she lived in it. She said she thought she had a few and her daughter-in-law said she would try to scan them and send them to me.

Marcia moved around the living room area and pointed out where there was once a window and how there used to be a partition “with that criss-cross stuff on the top.”

“Lattice work?” offered her son.

“Yes! That’s it. Lattice, “ said Marcia.

She told us how the house was two stories then (it is three now) and how the sole bathroom was on the first floor off the kitchen area. There was no back deck.

“And of course these hardwood floors weren’t here.”

“Would you like to see the second floor?” I asked her. Again she said she didn’t want to impose and I assured her this was as much of a treat for me as it was for her. I loved hearing about what my house was like before I was even born.

I led the way to the second floor that was also considerably different from when Marcia was living there. For one thing, there was no bathroom on the second floor, just three small bedrooms, one of which was a “summer porch” as Marcia put it. It is the room in the front of our house that, to this day, is not heated and so it is used for storage; a polite way to say it holds all our crap. When Marcia was a kid living there, that room was screened in and the kids liked to sleep there on warm summer nights.

Although I invited everyone to see the third floor Marcia decided it would be too much of a trip. She was happy to have seen the space that had been her home some 75 years ago.

“Your house is very cozy,” Marcia said. She wanted to know if we liked living in it.

“We love it and we are taking good care of it,” I told her.

She seemed pleased by what she had seen. We all exchanged our contact information (“M-A-R-C-I-A” she spelled out her first name for me. “I was going to ask if it was Marcia with a CIA or an SHA,” I said. “Thank you,” said Marcia.). She told us that she wants us to come and visit her.

And then they were gone.

If I had not come home at the same time that she and her family were outside my house I likely never would have met Marcia. I am certain they wouldn’t have knocked on our door. It was meant for me to meet Marcia on her 90^th birthday. It wasn’t my birthday but I sure felt like I got a gift.

All this week I am driving between Milford, CT and North White Plains, NY as I happily fill in for my boss hosting the midday show (11a-3p) at 107.1 The Peak (www.1071thepeak.com).

If you spend anytime driving you know the myriad of joys it provides.

I decided to take notes. And don’t worry I wasn’t writing, texting or anything else while driving (yes imagine this: I actually drive while not doing anything else!). My notes were taken mentally. And at red lights which I actually stop for.

Monday 8:58am (not a minute after I pulled away from my house): mini-van driven by a woman is coming down a side street perpendicular to me (I had the right of way, as I was on the main road) doesn’t stop and, as a result, cuts me off. I’m sure the driver thought nothing of it; afterall there is no stop sign on the corner so that means ya don’t have to stop, right???

Driver apparently has never heard the term “right of way” let alone “common courtesy”.

Monday 9:07am: still on local roads. Mini-van driven by a man is the lead car at a red light. Green left arrow appears and driver doesn’t move. I blow my horn. Barely get through the intersection as the left arrow turns yellow and vanishes. When I pass the mini-van, driver is looking at his cell phone. He is either texting or dialing but clearly not driving.

Monday 9:17am: now on the Parkway headed south…a whole ten minutes passed without incident! Likely because the traffic is light due to the MLK Jr. holiday…but wait! A silver SUV cuts me off without signaling! Sex of the driver is unknown.

Okay so you get the idea. It’s a 55 mile drive between home and the radio station and stuff just keeps happening. The biggest repeat annoyance that I detect is the lack of directional signals. This is probably my single biggest pet peeve when it comes to driving. I actually use signals when I change lanes. Yup and I use them for a variety of reasons: because it’s the LAW, because it’s safer and I believe the majority of drivers (like me) are NOT mind readers, and because I like to respect my fellow travelers by acknowledging their existence. In other words, I do NOT believe that I am the only one on the road and that the world revolves around ME.

I also like to use my directional signals because it gives me something to do since I’m not texting or talking on a phone when I drive.

Tuesday 9:00am: silver Honda sedan runs a stop sign. Hey, I was far enough away from him/her (again sex of driver unknown) so why would the driver bother stopping for that stop sign? Better to just go full throttle through it.

Tuesday 9:09am: on the Parkway I notice a big hawk (type undetermined…perhaps a Red Tail?) perched above the road on a light pole. I imagine what that hawk must witness below every day and decide to stop taking mental notes.

Besides the lack of directional signals, my other BIG pet peeve when it comes to driving on the two-lane Parkway is drivers who insist on using the left lane for cruising. This ignorance is particularly aggravating when the “cruiser” in the left lane has a line of cars behind it and still doesn’t get the message to move over. I might attribute this to the “cruiser’s” lack of side and rear view mirrors, however those accoutrements are most often present on the cruising vehicle. Wait…maybe the “cruiser” doesn’t know what those reflecting devices are FOR? Nah…I doubt it. Me thinks the “cruiser” is just an idiot.

Another driving pet peeve is a sort of mystical one. It is the “braking for no reason” phenomenon or “BFNR”. This is the driver you are following who has no one in front of him and hits his brakes for no reason. And believe me, I am not a tailgater so the BFNR is not a message for me to back off. In fact I’ve often seen BFNR happening in an adjacent lane to the one in which I am driving. And a related pet peeve: drivers who actually drive WITH A FOOT ON THE BRAKE. Yup, their brake lights are ALWAYS ON. A mechanic’s dream.

On roads there are lines marking the lanes in which to drive. Pretty simple. Yet some drivers can’t seem to fit their vehicles between the lines. In fact, some drivers can’t fit their vehicles on the proper side of the road, driving over the double yellow line. My car fits fine. Even Hummers fit. Your car fits too, trust me. Or buy yourself a smaller vehicle that you can actually drive.

When this little diatribe hits the Shoreline Out and About sight I’ll be getting ready for my Wednesday Adventure in Driving. At least turn signals aren’t a problem when I’m on the radio.

]]> http://pamlandry.com/2010/01/20/adventures-in-driving/feed/ 4