Critter Cam

Security at our new house in St. Augustine has been a concern from the beginning. While we truly enjoy our privacy, we are physically isolated from all of our neighbors–alone in an outlying cul-de-sac that so far has eluded the new home construction spike occurring throughout our community.

waterfront

However, it’s not as if we are inherently paranoid, or that we have a bucket full of anecdotal evidence to suggest that we have something to fear in our neighborhood. On the contrary, we’ve found our faraway neighbors to be friendly and caring.

But there are times when it would be nice to have some neighbors around to keep a watchful eye on things. Or have them circle the wagons in the event of an ambush.

Which would lead us to conclude that we are pretty much on our own when it comes to protecting our property.

home exterior

The other day, Leah and I were introduced to a new neighbor for the first time, who asked the all-to-familiar question:

“So which house is yours?”

Which was answered in a patterned response:

“We’re pretty much by ourselves. Just look for the lonesome house with the red truck on the remote cul-de-sac,” I replied.

screenshot (75)
Look for the blue lollipop–bottom left

Our neighbor responded, “I know that house. It’s very pretty and lush by you, but aren’t you scared being all alone? Maybe you should get a dog!”

Well, no! Although we are dog friendly, there’s no plan for a dog in our household. Certainly not while we still intend to travel.

However, we had considered getting an alarm system, which doesn’t require regular walking or a vet. After an exhaustive search on the internet that challenged my inner geek, I opted for the wireless and flexible RING system to best integrate all security components (video doorbell, front door smartlock, cameras, floodlights, sensors, keypad and base station) under one umbrella. And the monitoring system–no contract necessary–was a genuine bargain at only $100 a year, with COSTCO picking up the first year expense.

I hooked everything up over the course of a few days, despite dangling from the top of a 14 foot telescoping extension ladder.

screenshot (78)

With all devices connected and communicating, I believe Alexa was immediately impressed, but Leah, not so much. She was waiting for a sign that the installation was worth all the accompanying chirps, bells, and whistles of every indoor/outdoor motion or open door–all in the name of stranger danger.

And then we discovered the unintended benefits of exterior motion detection: CRITTER CAM!

In addition to raccoon reconnaissance, we’ve also observed possums, bats, feral cats and cougars, which gave us a better perspective of what was digging up our yard since our move.

But then, I wasn’t prepared for the camera-mugging bluejay who seemingly came out of nowhere to find an unexpected perch…

Realizing that the video capture happened in a blur, I dissected the imagery to secure a better understanding of what I was watching…

flight1a

flight2

flight3

flight4

flight5a

flight6

flight7

Again…

Little did I realize–to my surprise–that RING would open up a (w)hole new dimension of peek-a-boo. 

The Angry Inch

On September 5, my grandnephew Ari unwittingly followed Abraham’s footsteps and entered into a covenant with God by sacrificing his foreskin to join the Tribe. He was only eight-days-old at the time, but had he been asked and able to answer, I’m certain he would have opted out.

Leah and I travelled to a Scarsdale, NY temple for the event, where we were greeted by Bubbe Debbie, Tante Ava, and most importantly, Ari, dicked out in Bubbe’s crocheted yarmulke creation. Presently locked in a blissful sleep, Ari had little clue of his near-future fate.

greeters

All guests were expected at 11:00 am sharp, but slow arrivals dictated a slower start, which was a good thing for Tante Marilyn–who like cock-work–arrived during the overture, and ran to the restroom with a change of clothes over her arm.  

“There’s no time for that,” I called out as she sprinted by.

“Nevermind,” she answered, and she was gone.

Inside the sanctuary, Ava stood steadfast as Ari’s chaperone, cradling him on a pillow that would hopefully cushion the inevitable blow.

Ava and Ari

Despite outsiders’ cries of trauma and mutilation, the notion of circumcision has stood the test of time for four thousand years, and the ceremony of brit milah, or bris marks the ritual of welcoming the newborn male into a society that connects all Jews through thousands of generations–from Abraham to the great-grandfather…

Great grandfather

to the grandfather…

Yohays

to the father…

David2

to the son.

Ari

Ari’s mohel (rhymes with recoil), who was hired for his steady hand (and because he only works for tips), stood resolute and cocksure before the congregation,

mohel blessing

as if to reassure Ari’s anxious Mommie,

fighting back tears

that he was more than a cut above the rest.

However, after the recitation of several requisite readings,

blessings.jpg

Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who hast sanctified us with Thy command­ments, and hast given us the command con­cerning circumcision.

and blessings,

reciting the prayer

Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who hast sanctified us with Thy commandments, and hast commanded us to make our sons enter the covenant of Abraham our father.

I concluded the mohel was a touch long-winded, although I never considered asking him to cut it short. 

Finally, it was showtime. The sandek–in this case, Zayde Craig,

preparation (2)

the maternal grandfather–was called upon to hold Ari’s legs, while the mohel got a grip of Ari’s equipment.

before

Once the clamp was affixed and the ceremonial anesthetic (Manischewitz wine) was orally introduced,

clamp1

a flick of the wrist…

clamp

left little doubt… 

after

that Ari was in good hands. The mohel was a consummate professional who handled himself in the long run without getting the sack.

Afterwards, the parents exhaled, although mouth-to-mouth was necessary.

Yohay kiss

In fact, grandparents, and especially Ari felt the whole affair was sensational–even though he was all petered out and it was clear that he wasn’t all there.

Schein kiss (2)

 

When It Rains, It Pours

Leah and I were about to step out to take care of an outdoor errand, when a graying sky turned into a routine Florida downpour, putting a damper on our schedule until the storm abated. We were watching the rain from my office window, just as the city sanitation truck arrived, chugging towards our cul de sac for the weekly trash pickup. But this time around, something went terribly wrong.

The driver of the truck entered the cul de sac by driving down the center of the road instead of staying right and following the full curve of the road. Perhaps, the driver thought the truck’s turning radius could negotiate a tight 180° turn out of our dead end from his middle-of-the-road position without jumping the opposite curb…but he was wrong. The vehicle rolled over the curb–its right wheel catching a water supply cover that split under the weight of the cab–which crushed the water valve and sheared the 3-inch supply line underneath.

Suddenly, we were looking at an impropmtu geiser eruption in our front yard, rising 60 feet or more.

gusher1.jpg

It was enough for me to grab my camera and photograph the ensuing drama, as if I was part of a crime scene investigation.

police arrival

The police were called–filing a report and issuing a summons to the driver–but stuck around for a while to gawk at the local man-made attraction.

Thirty minutes passed before a Water Department maintenance crew eventually arrived on the scene to figure out their next step.

service truck and geiser

With water being such a precious commodity (see Well Done!), Leah and I wondered how much had been wasted.

“They better not be charging us for that,” she asserted.

“How could they,” I reassured, “It’s not like it was our mistake.”

First order of business…

checking the break

…inspect the damage…

water pressure

…then locate the water shut-off…

turning off the water

…and stop the flow…

water recovery.jpg

to enable repairs.

geiser containment

digging out

tools of the trade

pumping water

excavating the pipe head

After an hour of tinkering, the damaged fitting was finally replaced…

cracked pipe

…with something shiny and new.

new cap installed

I asked the crew chief how much water he thought had been lost.

crew chief

“Y’know, I have to fill out an EPA report that accounts for missing water,” he explained, “So, if I was to go with a 1000 GPM flow-rate over 45 minutes, I’d be looking at approximately 45000 gallons (or 170,000 liters) lost.”

According to city water rates, that’s equivalent to a $500 water bill, making this accident one very expensive car wash.

 

 

 

Becoming My Parents

Hiking along New Jersey State and County Park trails the day after Thanksgiving made a lot of sense to Leah, who orchestrated our first return to New Jersey since moving to St. Augustine five months ago. She promised a whirlwind week and a-half of personal appointments and commitments packed with a variety of doctors, friends and family members, all laced with an emphasis on over-eating.

And so, during the course of our visit, as advertised, our food-centric itinerary always included a meal punctuated by scintillating table conversation on family history and folklore–touching on recipes, obituaries, and kin outcasts, with politics and religion occasionally creeping into the dialogue.

But mostly, everybody seemed to be preoccupied with their health. And God help the person who would innocently ask, “So, how are you feeling?” Because this question would open the floodgates for respondents to freely reassign their HIPAA proxy on the spot so they could casually discuss their current condition down to the last agonizing ache and pain, notwithstanding the severity surrounding their prognosis and course(s) of treatments, always followed by a couple of random doctor-horror stories.

It seemed like everyone had a health-related story to tell–whether it was about themselves or someone they knew–not unlike my parents and their friends, who would gather at holiday occasions to compare notes about their medication intake. It was uncanny that the of crux of nearly all of our relationships was now firmly rooted in our faded glory and eventual demise.

Any outsider, after eavesdropping on any of our sessions of non-stop kvetching might be surprised to learn that we are still breathing and have more than one day to live.

And so, it was predictably refreshing to carve out some time to clear our ears of prescription patter, and find an activity that combined friendship and calorie burning. Of course, our opportunity to hike was completely weather-dependent, considering the prior Nor’easter and the Arctic chill that had settled on the Atlantic states.

Like many Northern transplants to Florida, Leah and I had become preoccupied with weather-watching, so we might bask in the warm glow of knowing that we had finally escaped the unfriendly winters by relocating to St. Augustine. But now that we were back in Jersey, it was time to face the hard cold facts of winter; Ramapo Valley Reservation (NYNJTC_RamapoValleyCountyReservationMap-2017) was 18°F at the Reservation trailhead, and expecting to peak at 23°F by the afternoon.

MacMillan Reservoir was partially frozen and dreary…

lake (2)

with the exception of distant water reflections.

frozen reflection

Trails were camouflaged… 

blue trail (2)

by crispy fallen leaves–densely packed and slippery–despite the assortment of Skittles-colored trail blazes nailed to forest saplings.

cut logs

Brooks were running fast and high…

brook flow1 (3)

making each water-crossing challenging and hazardous.

We continued our four-hour excursion with the winds picking up across Campgaw Mountain.

panorama looking east

And it became clear to me that marching through the New Jersey woodlands was not the best birthday present I could have given myself. The cold had already taken its toll on Arlene’s arthritic fingers. Leah, who had recently succumbed to lower back pain and acute Achilles tendonitis was now complaining about her knees.

My knees were also aching from sliding down one too many slippery slopes. Even Doug, the youngest of all of us by at least eleven years had to admit that his right knee was locking up occasionally. The ladies cut their hike short, taking a quick detour to the parking lot, but Doug and I wore our intrepid hats. We continued to the feature waterfall along the Brookside Trail with few delays or complaints…

waterfall

giving us bragging rights to a 7.5 mile accomplishment,

frosty rocks

and leaving me more than ready for my true birthday present to myself: a one-hour Swedish massage at a local day spa, if only to rub my aches and pains away for another day.

 

 

 

 

Trump’s Folly

Photo credit: (Carlos Barria/Reuters)
A political song parody…
It’s a catchy tune, so why not sing along!
(Intro)
Critics are falling on my head,

From too much rain to bother honoring the dead.
I don’t give a shit.
Those…NATO allies that I dread–

keep me bawlin’…

So I just did me some talking to my sons.
And I said, “I didn’t like the way Dems got things done–
Winning at the polls.
Those…losses are falling on my head,

they keep fallin’…”

But there’s one thing…I know.
The Blues they sent to beat me
Just defeat me.

It won’t be long,
Subpoenas now step up to greet me.

(interlude)

Democrats keep falling on my head.
But that doesn’t mean the House will soon be turning Red.
Winning’s not for me,
‘Cause, I’m never gonna stop the wave with complaining.
I’ll cop a plea.
It terrifies me.

(interlude)

It won’t be long ’till prison opens up to greet me.

Bad vibes keep falling on my head.
But that’s just karma coming ‘round on me, I dread…
Mueller’s got the key.
‘Cause, I’m never gonna stop the probe by complaining.
I’ll drop a tweet,

’cause I’m President Cheat!

Thanks to Original Songwriters: Burt Bacharach / Hal David

The United State of Armories

There was another mass shooting the other day–only eleven days after the last mass shooting, in addition to 305 other mass shootings in the past 312 days–bringing the tally thus far this year to 328 DEAD and 1200+ WOUNDED.

With so many well-intended thoughts and prayers offered after each and every tragedy, there must be a reason why this keeps happening. Are we not thinking and praying enough?

Clearly, there must be someone or something to blame!

Donald Trump faults America’s preparedness. He said so when Nikolas Cruz shot and killed 17 students and staff members at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida on Valentine’s Day.

If only the teachers had been armed…

And he mentioned it again after Robert Bowers opened fire on congregants at Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, during Shabbat morning services, killing 11 and injuring others.

If only there had been an armed guard at the temple…

Trump continues to echo National Rifle Association chief Wayne LaPierre’s long-touted notion that “the only way to stop a bad guy with a gun is with a good guy with a gun.”

It’s a familiar refrain by 2nd Amendment activists and lobbyists.

Perhaps they are right, and pacifists have been blind to such an obvious solution…

WE NEED MORE GUNS TO STOP THE VIOLENCE!

America has 4% of the world population, but controls 46% of the civilian guns, globally. Suppose we put them to good use!

grayscale photo of a boy aiming toy gun selective focus photography

Therefore, all of us have the power and responsibility to prevent the next mass shooting by stationing one or more armed civilians at EVERY:

  • bar, restaurant, coffee shop, donut shop, pizzeria, take-out, drive-thru, food truck;
  • shopping plaza, shopping center, shopping mall, strip mall, retail center, department store, discount center, flea market, garage sale;
  • home center, dry cleaner, laundromat, pawn shop, liquor store;
  • firehouse, courthouse, post office, police station, municipal office, county office, state office, federal office, library, voter poll;
  • barber shop, beauty salon, nail salon, eyebrow threading salon, tanning salon, massage parlor, spa;
  • bank, savings & loan, credit union, financial service, investment house, loan shark;
  • realty, mortgage agency, bail bond agency;
  • gymnasium, dance studio, yoga studio, swimming pool, bath house;
  • amusement center, amusement park, dog park, park ground, fairground;
  • food fair, street fair, corn maze, pumpkin patch;
  • horse-riding stable, kennel, boat yard, pier, seashore;
  • public school, parochial school, charter school, vocational school, tutoring center;
  • college dormitory, fraternity house, sorority house, lecture hall, classroom, laboratory, library, bookstore;
  • church, chapel, synagogue, temple, mosque;
  • supermarket, grocery store, convenience store, bakery, butcher shop, produce market, fish market;
  • vineyard, brewery, distillery;
  • hospital, clinic, doctor’s office, dentist, veterinarian, pharmacy, physical therapist, LabCorp office;
  • parking lot, car dealership, gas station, car wash, auto body shop, auto repair, oil change service, tire shop;
  • concert hall, stadium, arena, theater, amphitheater, movie theater, bowling alley, circus tent, carnival, casino, racetrack;
  • bus depot, train station, airport, heliport, car rental, truck stop, rest stop, gas station;
  • cruise ship, riverboat, ferry, freighter, tugboat, tour boat;
  • cruise ship terminal, harbor, port, mooring;
  • radio station, TV station, internet cafe;
  • hotel, motel, trailer park, bed & breakfast, Airbnb, campground, homeless shelter;
  • VFW hall, Moose Lodge, convention center, social hall, catering hall;
  • cemetery, graveyard, funeral home;
  • bridge, tunnel, toll road, railroad crossing; 
  • warehouse, housing park, office park, industrial park, construction site, abandoned building;
  • haunted house, slaughterhouse;
  • museum, planetarium, sculpture park, art gallery, art studio;
  • factory, machine shop;
  • junkyard, trash dump, recycling center;
  • public restroom;
  • march, demonstration, parade, street performance, iPhone launch, rocket launch, victory celebration;
  • wedding, birthday party, prom, anniversary celebration, Ba(r/t) Mitzvah, Christening, Sweet 16, family picnic, school reunion;
  • gun store, shooting range;
  • etc. (in case I missed a place where gun violence might occur)

We can make a real difference with all of our guns, while reducing unemployment below 3% and giving Trump something tremendous to brag about!

Don’t you feel safer now?

photo of smoking shotgun
Photo by Ivandrei Pretorius on Pexels.com