March 26th, 2010 by Max
What is it that keeps a person awake at 4 a.m.?
My mind was just rolling through memories of my grade school class. Dunno why. Maybe its because things haven’t worked out quite the way I imagined. Or maybe I’m wondering what they’re doing now.
Susie Weiller. I had a crush on a different girl, pretty much through my whole grade school daze. Now I’m not even sure how to spell her name. Theresa Kuracina I think. Wow. I just remember always being in her thrall. Her mom lived with the nuns. She was therefore favored by the nuns. But as I recall. Rightfully so.
I always considered myself one of the smart kids in the class. I guess that’s what started me down this wayward path. That and Facebook. I met someone in that goddam Facebook from my grade school class who I never really imagined as a big success. Who is now, a big success. Sorry. My bad.
Now don’t get me wrong, world, this isn’t about vanity. I’m fully aware of my flaws, my lack of intelligence. And I’ve known for years that there is something more important than raw processing power, even raw storage capacity, in making someone a success. I just always figured I would be somewhere else in my life when I was looking ahead in those days. There’s a line in the Desiderata about not comparing yourself to others that I didn’t know then. Its good advice.
However I can’t help remembering. I can’t imagine remembering all the kids from my 8th grade class at Blessed Sacrament School, but I wonder what some of them are doing.
Like Theresa Kuracina. Stunned crush. I remember the day, that John Kozell asked her out. It was the first time I’d ever seen anyone ask anyone out on a date. I was crushed, but just a little bit. John was alpha male. No doubt. And a really good guy. Easily the best athlete in the class, I think a year older than I was. Something about a water skiing accident. I remember a story about a cow bone. Supposedly John had a cow bone in his leg. I still can’t remember who told me that. That can’t be true. Can it? Can John Kozell have really had his shattered leg replaced by a cow bone? Could he have had that and still been “the fastest kid in the class”?
What I do know is that when we boys played Hill-Dill (from Hill and Dale I guess) on the school parking lot, John was invariably the last one caught. I was usually the first. I was pretty smart. But I was definitely the runt of the litter in my grade school class. John was the best athlete by far.
But I wasn’t the shortest. Rick Scott was. And Rick was probably the richest. His dad was actually a banker. Rick looked like “Little Ricky”. Rick and I were rivals. Or maybe I just imagined we were. I remember Rick could sing, but sometimes in music class, I would get the solo. I remember being picked to sing the lead in “Joshua fought the battle of Jericho” and being surprised when the nun picked me instead of Rick Scott. Rick was handsome. Rick was rich. I remember our class debate in 1968. I don’t remember who Rick went up against. I do remember that Rick supported Richard Nixon. And he demolished whoever it was he was debating. I remember “Instead of a chicken in every pot my opponent would have a little pot in every chicken”. Great line.
I know its petty, but I’ve always taken a little satisfaction in Rick having supported Nixon. And him having to stand in the front of the line, two places ahead of me, when they lined us up by height.
I never liked my place in line and the nuns were always lining us up. I was either 3rd from the front, by height, or way in the back by alphabet. I always wanted to be in the back of the line with John McKercher and Mike Donovan when they lined us up by height.
Its funny what you remember. I remember John McKercher trying to trip me when I was on crutches after a year and a half of being home in bed. He went from someone I remembered fondly, to not so fondly. Probably was jealous of all the attention I got when I came back to school. John was always the second tallest kid in the class.
Mike Donovan was the tallest. And the smartest. I remember him winning a spaghetti supper from Father Toomey by getting some number of 100′s on his final tests. I think it was four 100′s! Mike was the smartest kid in the class, but Theresa Kuracina was a close second.
Ah Theresa Kuracina. She was merely perfect. I wonder what she was doing now. I wonder if all the boys had a crush on her. I know John Kozell did. I know I did. Of course I had a crush on Sister Janet too. They were both about equally unobtainable in my mind. Equally pure. Equally smart. Equally beautiful.
As I was tossing back and forth not sleeping, thinking about things long ago and wondering why I remember what I remember, my mind went back to Susie Weiller and just how stupid a young boy can be.
One of the strange things that I remember was square dancing with Susie Weiller. Suzie was the shortest girl in the class. Cute as a button, poor Suzie always stood at the front of the line of girls when the nuns lined us up. She always stood next to Rick Scott.
The nuns figured, I guess, that we should start being interested in the opposite sex in 8th grade and slow dancing was out of the question, so they had us square dance. At that time I would never have told anyone that my father was a square dance caller. I’m proud of it now, but this was 1968, Rick Scott was talking about Nixon and I was listening to Rock and Roll!
But that day, or those days, I don’t even remember how many times we went square dancing in the basement of the church, that day when we got to touch the girls, as long as we didn’t get too close, what I remember was Susie Weiller hooking elbows with me in the square dance. Susie tilted her head back and laughed with delight as we spun. I’ll never forget the sound of her laughter.
As I sit here alone at 4 a.m. 40 years later, I don’t remember when it first dawned on me that there was another girl in the world besides Theresa Kuracina, but I remember it was Susie Weiller.
Posted in Arts, Changes in the World In My Lifetime, Fun, Mustang, Politics, Social Commentaries | 3 Comments »
January 21st, 2010 by Max
I wrecked it. Missed the deer and hit the guardrail.
Too bad. That was a nice mustang.
Yeah. I miss it.
[Conversation with unknown neighbor walking his dog at 9:00 pm on Thursday]
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July 4th, 2009 by Max
I guarantee this owner gets comments.
Posted in Arts, Mustang, My New York, Photos | 2 Comments »
June 23rd, 2009 by Max
You’ll see this and say, its really not that bad. And its true. There is a bend in the rocker panel inside the door, so that meant it would have to had been on a frame straightener, as well has having two fenders and a door and the back bumper maybe replaced too.
Anyway the guy said they stopped counting when they got to $6000 using Gary’s U Pull it parts even!
There's the bent frame. Doesn't look real bad does it?
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June 20th, 2009 by Max
Car’s done. I’ll post a pic soon. 02 Honda Civic. Its a step down from Mustang Sally in terms of looks 
but it gets good mileage and is the only seemingly solid, likely to be running next year, car, that I’d seen in my two weeks of looking, without getting a loan.
^ English! ?
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June 13th, 2009 by Max
Hello internet:
I’ve just totalled my 2002 Mustang. I’m expecting somewhere between $2500 and $6500 in inusrance payments. I have no idea which they’re going to offer.
I like to drive the country roads and I sometimes go off road in search of birdwatching opportunities and fishing opportunities – so the Mustang (Did I ever mention I called her “Sally”?) was not the ideal car. But I loved her. [I think some women thought it was a cool car too!]
But now I’m serious. I want great mileage, off road capabilities [I don't need a hummer - well ok - I don't need a Humm Vee. Just a car that won't bottom out on dirt roads], real sleek looks all in a used car for around $2500. Am I asking too much?
What kind of car should I buy?
Posted in Changes in the World In My Lifetime, Mustang | 5 Comments »
June 8th, 2009 by Max
So, not only is dear ole dad struggling and dear little sis having troubles and they are having troubles – so that I miss most of Monday and all of Tuesday from work, but I get to work Wednesday, with no clue that would be my last day of work last week.
I go to the Mac Users Group meeting 20 miles up the interstate, with a McD’s fish sammich in my gut and some learning to do. On the way home, I’m still hungry – I don’t do the “meal” at these places because of the fat in the fries. So I’m hungry. Go to Wendy’s get a drink and a dollar double stack, pickles, mustard, catchup. And I hear this song. A song from WAY way back. A song I used to have on a 45 rpm single [no mustard or pickles]. So Roger Miller is singing away and I’m remembering the words. After the song I turn off the radio and sing to myself. I want to remember the words.
I try a low key. I try a high key. Its actually a song with quite a range. Third time’s the charm and I’m singing away following the speed limit on Rt 88 far too poor to dare go fast, I have fines to pay.
And there she is. And she is perfectly in the middle of my lane. Perfectly perpendicular to my direction. And its a long sweeping curve so my headlights don’t hit the 400 pound doe till just before I’m going to. And she’s not moving.
Its hard to know for sure if I was trying to save her, or trying to save myself by not having her land in my lap, but if I’d kept going straight the front of my low car would have passed right between front and back legs.
So I yank the car left into the passenger lane, but at 65 mph I go right across it, so I yank the car right and it starts to slide sideways. Again I’m not sure if it wouldn’t go back left, after all it was skidding sideways, the sound was like the movies, or if it just went left too slowly but I pretty much go headlong into the guard rail.
Up here in NY some guard rails are just three cables held by steel posts. This was one of them. It caught, I think, the right front corner, and the front center, then the front left where it ripped off the left front corner of the car. The Mustang then pinwheeled down the guardrail and ended up with the back of the car on the same guardrail. Now the nose is sticking out onto the right hand lane and a car has pulled up behind me to see if I’m alright. I drive off the guardrail and stop on the shoulder. I don’t see fire but I want out. Using my good right leg I push the driver’s door open and get out onto the shoulder. My knees wobbley and my back spasming, I call 911.
Ambulance ride. ER. Overnight stay which lasts fom 10 pm Wednesday to 2:30 pm Friday and I’m home. Thanks Kelvin buddy. Your rides and patience made my tough time much easier.
I had no bruises from the car, although I can’t say the same about the nurses at A.O. Fox Hospital, all of whom were cute. As was the P.A. who took great care of me.
The air bag never went off.
The place where the accident happend showed almost no sign of there ever having been an accident, and I couldn’t even find any skid marks which still puzzles me. I think I scrubbed off a lot of speed by skidding side ways!
The cop gave me a ticket, for damaging the guardrail, which really didn’t look that bad either.
I never ate the doublestack.
And the song I was singing?
Yep. “King of the Road”!
Posted in Changes in the World In My Lifetime, Mustang | 4 Comments »
May 21st, 2009 by Max
Cool car. – Kid in the drive through window at Wendys.
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May 4th, 2009 by Max
Going into the Speidie and Rib Pit
“Great car” – from a 50 ish pickup truck driver.
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March 5th, 2009 by Max
“I think I said this to you before, but I looooove your car!”
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February 27th, 2009 by Max
Coming out of the video store just now, I hear, “I’m coming through the door with you.” So I look behind me and there is this baby faced kid, looking just like Jack Black, except his hair is short, a little lighter, and he’s got it spiked on both sides of the top of his head, about an inch high running front to back.
So I ok come out the door with me. We round the corner and into the parking lot. I walk to my car. His is a little further out. “Is that yours?” says he. I’m 10 feet from the Mustang, now 7 years old. Its dirty, white and in the dark parking lot, lit by a street light kinda sorta gleems in the rain.
I can’t think of anything cleever, so I just say, “Its mine”
“Niiiiiccccceh!” , says he.
So, starting today. Everytime something like this happens with the Mustang, I’ll report it here in this new category I’m starting, just for compliments on my car.
Its not vanity. I’m a little bit fascinated by it. I imagine its similar to what a beautiful woman hears. Like me she didn’t earn it. Or a handsome man I suppose. I heard a scientist on the podcast Slacker Astronomy, Dr Michael Turner, being asked if his physical atractiveness made it easier to be a scientist! By a man no less! He just brushed it off, but I think there’s something about beauty, that makes people want to tell the beautiful that they’re beautiful. And I think it extends to cars.
Posted in Mustang | 2 Comments »
