I went, on Sunday, to attend an open house in the town next over from mine. The kids were napping, my wife was installed with the Sunday crossword, and I took myself off. It looked promising on paper: 6 bedrooms, .6 acres, walk to the train, all in a very nice town with a great school system. The advert didn't warn me to be prepared to be sad, which is too bad, because I was.

The house, you see, was an estate sale. It was being sold by the children of the previous inhabitants. The "children", the broker told me, were now all in their 50's and the previous inhabitants had lived there for many, many years and raised their family there. And then they died. But they didn't vacate the house.

They were there all around me, the ghosts. The clothes left hanging in some closets. The well worn books in certain book shelves. The family photos left on tables and hung on walls, many of them of such an obvious age that they must have depicted people long dead themselves. The papers left out on the desk in the home office. Their traces were everywhere, if you looked carefully.

The ghosts were there in the sadness of the house, in the way that the house had just been left there, and not all shined up for sale. The way the wall paper was peeling in certain rooms and the way the plaster walls in the master bedroom had been left cracked and stained from a roof leak. No way the previous inhabitants would have wanted their house to be shown like that. No way.

I felt more creeped out the longer I was in the house and I did not linger after I finished my tour.

What is it about an empty house, a dead house, that you can feel even before you go in? I suspected it was an estate sale just from the way the walk was poorly shoveled.

I felt like I was walking with ghosts the whole time I was there. I don't think I could own such a house.

Besides, it needed, easy $250,000 worth of work and was on a busy street which is a no-no with small children.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:58 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Why? You ask. Because, sometimes, just sometimes, when you leave the house in the middle of a snow storm (small one, but still a storm), one neighbor will call your name and, when you turn around, will tell you that there are train wires down at the station, or so his wife has just heard on the radio, and there are no trains in or out of our station. So, as you stand there in the middle of the street thinking, "SHIT!!!", you then hear your kind neighbor say, "my wife is driving me to the next station up the line where I think that there are trains, wnat a lift?" And just like that, your day goes from disaster to SAVED, Hallelujah!

Thank you kind neighbor/benefactor!

We make it to the station where we then sprint over to the other platform on the New Haven bound side where the New York bound train is just pulling in. It is so crowded that I check every door for room, from the first door to the last door before finding just enough room to squeeze in and stand for the remainder of the journey. At least the guy next to me as reading something interesting, which I could read over his shoulder. Although he did read too slowly so I kept having to wait for him to catch up and turn the page.

Still, finally made it. I have no doubt that if I was not normally nice to my neighbors, I'd still be standing at my local train station waiting for the next train.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:30 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Today is Australia Day. Go wish Simon a happy Australia Day and buy an Aussie a beer!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:39 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I have a bunch, well, a small bunch of things I have been thinking about, none of which rise to the level of a full post and I've decided to simply let them all out here, for better or worse:

* Who would have thought that sometimes a broom is better for getting snow off of your sidewalk than a shovel? Came as a pleasant surprise to me. Much less effort and a much cleaner sidewalk. It snowed last night and I was out there at 5:45 this morning getting it all clean for the day.

* How come, when it gets really cold and you're waiting for the train, the cold starts licking at your feet with the big toes first?

* Running committees for non-profits is like herding cats. I am now heading up three different, major, committees for three different non-profits and I am astounded, sometimes, that I have any time for my paying job.

* The State of NY is perilously close to overtaking the Great State of Louisiana in my mind for Most Dysfunctional State Government. I am seriously contemplating fleeing to Connecticut where, at least, taxes are so much lower and, Greenwich aside, I can get a lot more house/land for the money. Something to think about.

* The Girl Child goes today for her annual tune up and oil change -- the birthday check up. That reminds me, time to get a physical for myself.

* Ok, physical now scheduled for next Monday. Why is it, that whenever I make an appointment for a physical, I immediately want to start watching what I'm eating? Like its going to make a difference now.

* Attending nursery school "pyjama party" for a picnic and sing-along is a divine way to spend the evening. Is there any better smell in the whole world than an almost two year old boy's hair which still smells from last night's Johnson's Baby Shampoo as the little one sits on your lap during the songs and you bury your nose in his hair? Anything better? Not really.

* Sitting cross legged on the floor for a half an hour reminds me that I ain't as young as I used to be. Ridiculous, isn't it? On so many levels.

* I really need to do something about the damn banner, or lack thereof, on this site.

* I am quietly pining for Summer, for the beach, for the wind on the bare chest on the beach, for chasing kids in the sand, for cocktails next to the water, for sand in the car and not under the car on the roads, and for just a longer day between sunrise and sunset. This surprises me since I've always loved Winter. I have no guesses as to why this is.

* The February social commitments list is getting longer and longer and I'm feeling like I'm falling farther and farther behind. What else is new?

* Does anyone really think that because they send me an email with an attachment and the re line reading either, "Your Bill", "Your Document", or your "Account Statement", I'm just going to open it? Please.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 03:01 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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1 My favorite is "You've won!" I never open them, just bask in the illusion for the 1.2 seconds it takes to delete it

Posted by: Elizabeth at January 21, 2005 01:39 AM (eDdcE)

2 brooms - also very good for brushing off a very big truck...when you are 5 ft 2.

Posted by: standing naked at January 21, 2005 06:17 AM (IAJcf)

3 Despite being a huge New York supremacists, I've often pondered the prospects of Fairfield County and western Connecticut as well. And if you get bored, you could always join the Governor's Foot Guard. (1st Coy.: http://www.governorsfootguard.com/, 2nd Coy.: http://www.footguard.org/).

Posted by: Andrew Cusack at January 21, 2005 01:52 PM (xuV6d)

4 Aah, Connecticut: Where the smart New Yorkers live! Welcome to the neighborhood?

Posted by: Tuning Spork at January 23, 2005 11:26 PM (L9A/j)

5 Great post.

Posted by: Jester at January 27, 2005 12:49 AM (yS8Mo)

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I posted, a couple of days ago, about white truffle oil and I received some interesting comments, many of which inquired generally about white truffle oil. So, I thought I'd post about it. First, the good stuff is high quality olive oil infused with white truffles so that the aroma will knock you over and the taste, when you add it to cooked food, for you don't really want to cook with it because the heat from the cooking will destroy the aroma and the taste, is divine.

These people say it best:

Truffles are one of the world's most complex and mysterious foods. Truly exceptional truffles (almost all of which from Italy) are costly, perishable and hard to find, but truffle oil captures the essence of Italy's best truffles without the expense. This truffle seasoning, made with extra virgin olive oil and a slice of real white truffle, is a flavorful enhancement for steak, pasta, fried eggs, mushroom dishes and cheese.

This olive oil is infused with the exotic flavor of white truffles sometimes know as the "fruit of the woods" and comes in small bottles because a little of its very strong truffle flavor goes a long way.

A few drops of the truffle olive oil will give the final touch of class to an unforgettable dish. Drizzled over a sliced loaf of warmed bread, it makes an unusual, deeply flavored variation of garlic bread. It is an excellent ingredient of the "primit piatti" or first course, particularly with risotto, pasta and fish dishes or just pour a few drops on a simple salad. Truffle oil is often poured at the table, so that the full aroma can escape and do its thing on your guest.

What is a truffle?
A truffle is a fungus that grows 3-12 inches below the ground at the base of certain trees and can only be located by pigs or dogs. Of the nearly 70 known varieties, the most desirable are black truffles (often from Umbria) and white truffles (from Piemonte). Fresh truffles are generally available from late fall to midwinter.

Bear in mind the truffles are horribly expensive. I got my oil at the spice sellers in the Grand Central Station marketplace where it was not ruinously priced, but not too cheap either.

I hope this answers some of your questions.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 04:10 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 A truffle is a fungus that grows under trees? Why was I thinking delicate, fluffy, chocolate? At any rate; I'm not completely turned off by the fungi factor. Not COMPLETELY. I think. :: gulp :: Something to try, definitely.

Posted by: Margi at January 19, 2005 01:33 PM (zalxZ)

2 Here I go being nitpicky again, but I have to differ. A truffle is not a fungus; it is a tuber. A most delicious tuber, but a tuber nonetheless. Why so many people think it's a fungus is beyond me.

Posted by: GrammarQueen at January 21, 2005 02:32 PM (X3Lfs)

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I am convinced that your idea of bliss changes as you age. Before, I mean before I had kids and my views of the world narrowed, I suspect bliss was an ice cold Bombay Sapphire martini and a Cuban cigar. I've always loved that combination.

Now? Now, bliss is waking up before everyone else in the house, as I did this morning, slipping downstairs without waking anyone, and having the kitchen to myself. I brewed an enormous pot of coffee that was so strong, it practically lifted my big mug up when I poured it. I took out all of the vegetables I chopped up last night (while dancing to 8:00 80's on WPLJ) and started cooking up a vat of chili since I know I will have no time at all to cook this weekend. In case you're wondering, cooking commenced at 6:00 this morning. It was lovely to cook away all by myself this morning, just me and my coffee.

Then, while the chili bubbled away on the stove, I made myself a lonesome, solitary breakfast that was simply sublime. I scrambled two eggs with diced prosciuto, melted muenster cheese on top of it and added, while on my plate, a thin drizzle of white truffle oil. White truffle oil is simply the greatest way to turn blah into luxe, calme et volupté.

It was bliss. I cooked, ate lovely eggs perfumed with truffles, drank strong coffee and was all alone to curse out loud to my heart's contentment at the morning's NY Times. Having children has changed me. I'd like to think I'd have appreciated this time alone before kids, but now, it was just blissful.

By the way, the chili appears to have turned out to be nothing short of fabulous.

Best wishes for a great weekend, y'all!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 01:48 PM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
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1 It sounds blissful enough! Hope you have a great weekend!!!

Posted by: Mick at January 14, 2005 02:04 PM (VhRca)

2 Must find this white truffle oil. I wonder what would happen if I poured it all over . . .anyway. Heh.

Posted by: Margi at January 14, 2005 03:32 PM (zalxZ)

3 Sounds like a wonderful morning--love peaceful mornings--Never heard of White truffle oil

Posted by: Cathy at January 14, 2005 04:21 PM (Bomwi)

4 Recipe please?? How about a fair exchange of recipes?? I will give a CA breakfast salad recipe in exchange for your Chili?? Let's see enough consideration to make this binding, dependent on the will of the parties?? Have a great day!!

Posted by: Azalea at January 14, 2005 08:49 PM (hRxUm)

5 I'm jealous. My mornings either consist of a blaring alarm clock, showering and scrambling (usually futilely) to get to work on time. Weekend mornings consist of the little guy waking me up, and I'm what seems like dad and mom for the weekend. Of course I've never been a 6 am person, I enjoy nights when everyone is asleep and it's just me rambling about doing things.

Posted by: Oorgo at January 15, 2005 02:06 AM (4R+lz)

6 Breakfast at RP's next weekend. I'll bring the coffee!

Posted by: Mark at January 15, 2005 08:18 PM (mk4dk)

7 Hope the chili is even better in a couple of days - you do realize chili improves with age, right?

Posted by: Hannah at January 16, 2005 06:43 AM (7dELN)

8 Eggs and mozzerella I got (Meunster is very close to mozz, so, no prob there). But what is this "white truffle oil" of which ye speak? Can I find some 50 miles west? It sounds too divine for my neck of these woods...

Posted by: Tuning Spork at January 16, 2005 09:14 PM (CrEda)

9 You pour white truffle oil on your eggs? Seriously? Dude. RP's posh. Here I am just using ordinary salsa...

Posted by: Helen at January 17, 2005 03:06 AM (uFX1z)

10 White truffle sauce? I've heard of truffles (which are some sort of fungus right? Like mushrooms) but not white truffle sauce. Wow, talk about an exotic meal! Hope the chili is great; I love chili. Chili and crackers. Great, now I'm hungry again.

Posted by: Rachel Ann at January 17, 2005 02:56 PM (Vb1uJ)

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Some days are just sadder than others, aren't they? Some days just turn your armor, that tough, calcified layer that keeps you from getting too bruised by bad news into a gossamer thin micro coating of tissue paper. Maybe its the result of having too good an imagination, something I think all good readers are blessed, sometimes cursed, with. Sometimes you can guard against those days. You take precautions. You deliberately don't read about the horrific tsunami and the death and destruction because those numbers are so great that they are statistics and you don't want to know the individual stories because it would be too much. And so you turn that page in the newspaper and you move on to the Sports Section, where life has rules and you can understand it and it won't haunt you, no matter how many times the replay shows that the kick went wide right.

Sometimes, though, your precautions fail. Sometimes, like today, you read a story and you wish you hadn't. What made me so sad today? The story of the death of a nine year old boy in a laundry chute in an assisted care facility in Harlem. The boy, his name was Frashawn, was born prematurely at six months and was seriously disabled with Down syndrome. His death is a mystery since this little boy, who only "could walk for short periods with crutches", managed to get past two nurses, through a closed door, and open a difficult to manipulate laundry chute, where he then died, wedged in the bottom. Frashawn did not have a whole lot going on his life. He had been living in this facility since he was 2 months old. His whole life, really.

Frashawn was about three and a half feet tall and weighed 100 pounds, said his mother, who visited him once a week. He attended Public School 138 and liked watching cartoons and playing his toy drum, she said, adding that he could not talk but could make loud noises.

Those who knew Frashawn said he liked to wake up early, was curious, and was among the more active patients in the 50-bed ward. In fact, many of the patients are so ill that they cannot get up from their beds, much less walk.

But Frashawn almost never missed his early-morning exploration, officials said. It was an unstructured stroll, meant to help make confinement feel a bit less confining.

At this point, I knew that even that little bit of tissue paper was gone. Why? Because I began to imagine what his death must have been like. This is what I mean about being cursed with an imagination. I imagined that this little boy, who lived a very structured life, died alone, maybe not so quickly, in a place and circumstance that he may not have been able to understand. I worry that he was scared, you see, and it positively lacerates my heart to think about that. He couldn't even talk. Its too much. I stop here.

Maybe it is self indulgent, or something else not very good, to let myself feel this for Frashawn when so many children are dead or dying all over the world. But you see, I don't know them and this article made me feel like I knew Frashawn, at least a little.

Frashawn's brother, Shamar Jones, 23, said that the family had more questions than answers. "If the Lord wanted him to go," Mr. Jones said, "he would have taken him at 6 months."

I agree, Mr. Jones. And I'm sorry for your loss.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:08 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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I was perusing the obits again today in the Daily Telegraph, reading about the life of Professor Martin Robertson, a noted classicist and expert on Greek art. Sounded like a very interesting person. Professor at Oxford, wrote a lot of great looking books, and was heir to a long tradition of classical scholarship in his family. Only at the last line of the obit does the curious reader discover that the Professor's son is Thomas Dolby of the "She Blinded Me With Science" fame and that the Professor appeared on roller skates in, I presume, that very music video. Cool, no?

Now we get to the difference in emphasis. If this man's death was reported in the American press, I have no hesitation in assuming that it would have been reported under the headline: "Father of Thomas Dolby Dies". Can anyone really doubt that? No. The good Professor's life would have been swallowed up in the son's musical career. But the Telegraph does not turn this man's life on its head in that way. The Telegraph waits until the last line of the obit, thus not allowing the accomplishments of the son to overshadow the very justly celebrated accomplishments of the father. That is how it ought to be. Only the reader who perseveres to the very end will discover that the son is, or was, famous, too. I think it is a difference of emphasis and I rather like it.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 04:01 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Back from Guatemala, safe and sound, with a tan and no worse for the wear. The in laws were well behaved, I was well behaved, even the children were well behaved.

Actually, before I continue, a quick Girl Child interchange from our last day there. I was reading when the GC came running over to bother me about something. She plopped down on the chair next to me and looked at me expectantly. We had the following conversation:

Me: What are you doing here? Why aren't you in the pool?

GC: They won't let me swim.

Me: Why not?

GC: I don't know.

Me: Well, go forth and gather some information and I'll see if I can't solve your problem, ok?

GC: Ok! [runs off and then returns]. They say I can't swim because I keep splashing people.

Me: Fine. Tell them you won't splash anymore and then they ought to let you swim. [she runs off again]

GC: They still won't let me swim! I THOUGHT you were going to SOLVE my problem!

Doomed, I am. Simply doomed.

In any event, New Year's Eve was fun. We arrived home from Guatemala on the 31st at around 1:00 a.m. I slept for a couple of hours and went into the office for a little bit. Then picked up some supplies and headed home because we were expecting some friends for dinner and a sleep over. Good thing they slept over, by the way. Four adults consumed, over the course of the evening, several tequillas, 5 bottles of wine, and some aged rum. A fun time was had by all.

We spent Sunday at the Bronx Zoo with the children and it was lovely to watch them run around and get excited by all the animals. The monkey house was, as always, a big hit and the Boy Child was practically beside himself..

Today is the big day my wife goes in to resign her current position. She received a job offer while we were gone in Guatemala for a job she thinks will be cool, for a company poised for growth, and which will offer good visibility since it reports directly to the Chief Financial Officer. In case you can't tell, this is good news.

She has decided to accept this job because we are not moving to Miami. The position was offered to someone else. No, I don't know why but I plan on speaking to them to find out. I was, on balance, a bit disappointed. Not the end of the world, but a bit disappointed just the same. See, here's the thing. I like corporate litigation. I like the issues and I really like doing fraud cases. I would have very much wanted to do this work where I had the power to put some people in jail. Now, I am just a cost of doing business. But with the power of the federal government behind me, I am a threat. So, life goes on. In fact, it goes on in a really busy way. This will be, I am told, a very high pressure first quarter of the year at the office and won't be any easier at home with the wife taking a new job. Something has to give somewhere, so I've decided to put the children up for adoption. Just kidding. Actually, adoption will be the subject of my next post so this makes a nice lead in.

I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday. Thank you all for the comments you left while I was gone. I enjoyed reading them. When I get a little time, I will post some pictures I took in Guatemala.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:04 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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1 welcome back so glad to hear your trip was enjoyable. and yes.....i agree you are doomed.

Posted by: standing naked at January 03, 2005 11:30 AM (/Kj2M)

2 Glad you're back, Random! Good bloggers have been slim pickins lately. Sorry about the position going to another, but I'm a big believer in things happening for reasons we don't understand at first. Maybe something even better is in the wings. :-)

Posted by: Amber at January 03, 2005 12:46 PM (zQE5D)

3 Hi Ho!! Welcome back!!! I certainly have missed reading your perspective on things-be it NYC or the world. I agree with Amber re: Miami, something better is on its way!! You really wanted to live in Miami?? How is your Spanish?? Peace and prosperity to you and yours in 2005.

Posted by: Azalea at January 03, 2005 02:45 PM (hRxUm)

4 Wow, sounds like you had a great end of the year and already an exciting start to the new year. As I have already said to someone else, I am hoping for a little less uneventful year this time around. Unfortunately, my new year's eve was not full of alcohol because of being under the weather. It's just as well. Watching all my drunk friends was just as entertaining. My husband brought some Patron (since we're talking tequilla) to the party...so that was his choice of spirits. I love going to the zoo with kids. It makes the whole trip full of wonder again. Sorry about Miami, but really psyched about the wife's new job. Mazel Tov! Welcome back!

Posted by: Linda at January 03, 2005 02:57 PM (9Pzdi)

5 Doomed, indeed. But you'll enjoy the trip, I'm sure! As for the job thing: I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. So, for that situation, I will just state for the record that this OBVIOUSLY means there's something better in store for you. Just wait and see! Love, Pollyanna (heh)

Posted by: Margi at January 03, 2005 08:59 PM (rKX9f)

6 Welcome home RP!! Glad you had a grand time.

Posted by: Holly at January 03, 2005 09:14 PM (Wkg+N)

7 Thanks for all the nice welcome home wishes! And frankly, I am kind of relieved that I did not get the job, although I would have really liked the work.

Posted by: RP at January 06, 2005 08:50 AM (LlPKh)

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