NYC Update Vol. 4 Lizzie's getting fat
Greetings all,
The list keeps growing -- welcome to my uncle Jeff and aunt Jane. What I really want to know is when the first person will ask to be removed the list. My money is on Dad, at some point in the very near future.
I'm stuck in a hotel room away from my family, so I'm going to be wordy…strap in.
We had our first "blue state" experience here in New Jersey, which actually has a roundabout family tie in a way. Bear with me. The other day we found out that here in the Garden State, aside from being unable to turn left in your car (more on that another time), by law you must recycle. I'm not going to make some comment about the state being run by socialists pining for a pseudo-Swedish government, because that would make me sound so "red state" right? No, and it's not because the state is striving to maintain its status as the Garden State (Newark springs to my mind right away as such a vernal, tree-laden community doesn't it). Actually, the real reason is because New Jersey outsources its trash. Yes, that is correct, we ship our trash to other states, which I believe my uncle Jack helped the Hoosier State litigate against in State of Indiana v. New Jersey's Trash circa 1988. But I digress. Anyway, some poor sap is employed by the state to (brace yourself) sort through my trash and determine if I inappropriately dispose of recyclables -- if I did, I would be subject to a fine. Now, I know what you are saying "Jim, you're so resourceful, there has to be a way around this, like going to a gas station or an apartment complex and using their dumpster." Nope. Get this, in New Jersey, dumpsters all have security cameras monitoring them. I wish I was making this up. Bottom line, we're recycling now.
More New Jersey oddities in later editions. Like a discussion on the freak-show factor of my blonde-haired, blue-eyed children (imagine the reaction a blonde woman gets in Japan), or maybe even some dialogue about bear warnings. Now that I think about it, I could probably start a "New Jersey oddity of the day" calendar. I'll look into that. But for now, on to the latest adventure.
This one was a personal adventure. A group of us from work went to a New York Yankees game the other night, to see the dreaded men in pinstripes face the "Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim." Whatever genius decided that needed to be the team's name, is destined for some high-ranking government position. Anyway, it was my first trip to Yankee Stadium. A few words on the experience. The location of the stadium (the Bronx) is an often-discussed, but somewhat overrated, "downside" -- the subway lets you off right outside the stadium; the stadium is so close you could spit on it -- some people do, I think. It's a nice stadium, in need of some heavy scrubbing on the interior (concession areas, etc), but not a bad place to watch game. I decided, after a few $7 beers, that I don't hate the Yankees, I'm indifferent to them. I hate the Knicks. I once prayed that God would curse the Knicks, but Mom told me that this is not how God worked. Then the Knicks hired Isiah Thomas. I think Mom was wrong. Anyway, people seem to hate the Yankees because they win, which seems to me to be a strange reason to hate a team. The Yankees have classic uniforms, their captain seems to be standup guy, as does their manager, and their owner, while a few sprinkles short of a sundae, will do whatever he needs to do to win. Wouldn't you love an owner like that if it was your favorite team? I bet the Clippers fans would. Both of them. Anyway, I rooted for the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim because I like Vlad Guerrero. He swings at everything and still hits .344, and he throws a baseball as if some sort of laser guided weaponry is attached to his shoulder. And his name is Vladimir. As for Yankees fans, well, they are insane, I'm sure of it. Case in point: in the third inning, with no one on base, Yankee outfielder Gary Sheffield hit a bloop to right field. The fans erupted as if Gary had just hit a 450-foot home run in game 7 of the World Series, when in fact it was a single in the 3rd inning of a meaningless game in April. The man next to me mentioned something about bearing one of Gary's children. I'm quite certain at the conclusion of the game that these 55,000 people wanted to give Gary a key to the city, maybe a tract of land in the Hamptons. A mere twenty minutes later, in the top of the 4th inning the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim had runners on base. A ball was hit to our man Gary, who misplayed the ball, allowing two Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim to score. The fans erupted again. This time, it was a chorus of indecipherable insults, most of which involved members of Gary's family. Truly amazing … no middle ground with these people. Perhaps this answers my question about why people hate the Yankees. Anyway, it was a good way to spend an evening, and neat to see the historic park.
On the family adventure front, our most recent planned trip was delayed by rain. We had Regis's parents in for the weekend (our first visitors, not including Meagen) and Joannie is coming soon (with an adventure to follow). Maybe with Joan here you will get two updates from Watson family members on the same happenings -- you can compare and contrast the differing views.
Oh, and before I go... "But how are the kids doing," you say. Annie and Maggie are getting along a little better in the new room. Maggie and Jimmy like to play a game called "Annie coming!" which involves Annie sitting on the floor minding her own business, oblivious to her surroundings (chip off the old block) and Maggie and Jimmy running away from Annie as if she were chasing them. School is going well for Jimmy -- we heard yet again from people at the school that it "seems like Jimmy has been here all year" and "he seems better adjusted than most of the kids in the class." Must be his mother's influence. A couple of Fridays ago we were at dinner and he proclaimed that Lizzie, from his class, was getting quite fat and they were hoping she would lose weight soon. Of course, as his mother and I began to admonish him for such talk, he added that any day she was expected to lay her eggs. Lizzie is a frog.
That's plenty for now; pass this along to whomever and please let us know how you are doing.
Take care,
Jim
The list keeps growing -- welcome to my uncle Jeff and aunt Jane. What I really want to know is when the first person will ask to be removed the list. My money is on Dad, at some point in the very near future.
I'm stuck in a hotel room away from my family, so I'm going to be wordy…strap in.
We had our first "blue state" experience here in New Jersey, which actually has a roundabout family tie in a way. Bear with me. The other day we found out that here in the Garden State, aside from being unable to turn left in your car (more on that another time), by law you must recycle. I'm not going to make some comment about the state being run by socialists pining for a pseudo-Swedish government, because that would make me sound so "red state" right? No, and it's not because the state is striving to maintain its status as the Garden State (Newark springs to my mind right away as such a vernal, tree-laden community doesn't it). Actually, the real reason is because New Jersey outsources its trash. Yes, that is correct, we ship our trash to other states, which I believe my uncle Jack helped the Hoosier State litigate against in State of Indiana v. New Jersey's Trash circa 1988. But I digress. Anyway, some poor sap is employed by the state to (brace yourself) sort through my trash and determine if I inappropriately dispose of recyclables -- if I did, I would be subject to a fine. Now, I know what you are saying "Jim, you're so resourceful, there has to be a way around this, like going to a gas station or an apartment complex and using their dumpster." Nope. Get this, in New Jersey, dumpsters all have security cameras monitoring them. I wish I was making this up. Bottom line, we're recycling now.
More New Jersey oddities in later editions. Like a discussion on the freak-show factor of my blonde-haired, blue-eyed children (imagine the reaction a blonde woman gets in Japan), or maybe even some dialogue about bear warnings. Now that I think about it, I could probably start a "New Jersey oddity of the day" calendar. I'll look into that. But for now, on to the latest adventure.
This one was a personal adventure. A group of us from work went to a New York Yankees game the other night, to see the dreaded men in pinstripes face the "Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim." Whatever genius decided that needed to be the team's name, is destined for some high-ranking government position. Anyway, it was my first trip to Yankee Stadium. A few words on the experience. The location of the stadium (the Bronx) is an often-discussed, but somewhat overrated, "downside" -- the subway lets you off right outside the stadium; the stadium is so close you could spit on it -- some people do, I think. It's a nice stadium, in need of some heavy scrubbing on the interior (concession areas, etc), but not a bad place to watch game. I decided, after a few $7 beers, that I don't hate the Yankees, I'm indifferent to them. I hate the Knicks. I once prayed that God would curse the Knicks, but Mom told me that this is not how God worked. Then the Knicks hired Isiah Thomas. I think Mom was wrong. Anyway, people seem to hate the Yankees because they win, which seems to me to be a strange reason to hate a team. The Yankees have classic uniforms, their captain seems to be standup guy, as does their manager, and their owner, while a few sprinkles short of a sundae, will do whatever he needs to do to win. Wouldn't you love an owner like that if it was your favorite team? I bet the Clippers fans would. Both of them. Anyway, I rooted for the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim because I like Vlad Guerrero. He swings at everything and still hits .344, and he throws a baseball as if some sort of laser guided weaponry is attached to his shoulder. And his name is Vladimir. As for Yankees fans, well, they are insane, I'm sure of it. Case in point: in the third inning, with no one on base, Yankee outfielder Gary Sheffield hit a bloop to right field. The fans erupted as if Gary had just hit a 450-foot home run in game 7 of the World Series, when in fact it was a single in the 3rd inning of a meaningless game in April. The man next to me mentioned something about bearing one of Gary's children. I'm quite certain at the conclusion of the game that these 55,000 people wanted to give Gary a key to the city, maybe a tract of land in the Hamptons. A mere twenty minutes later, in the top of the 4th inning the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim had runners on base. A ball was hit to our man Gary, who misplayed the ball, allowing two Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim to score. The fans erupted again. This time, it was a chorus of indecipherable insults, most of which involved members of Gary's family. Truly amazing … no middle ground with these people. Perhaps this answers my question about why people hate the Yankees. Anyway, it was a good way to spend an evening, and neat to see the historic park.
On the family adventure front, our most recent planned trip was delayed by rain. We had Regis's parents in for the weekend (our first visitors, not including Meagen) and Joannie is coming soon (with an adventure to follow). Maybe with Joan here you will get two updates from Watson family members on the same happenings -- you can compare and contrast the differing views.
Oh, and before I go... "But how are the kids doing," you say. Annie and Maggie are getting along a little better in the new room. Maggie and Jimmy like to play a game called "Annie coming!" which involves Annie sitting on the floor minding her own business, oblivious to her surroundings (chip off the old block) and Maggie and Jimmy running away from Annie as if she were chasing them. School is going well for Jimmy -- we heard yet again from people at the school that it "seems like Jimmy has been here all year" and "he seems better adjusted than most of the kids in the class." Must be his mother's influence. A couple of Fridays ago we were at dinner and he proclaimed that Lizzie, from his class, was getting quite fat and they were hoping she would lose weight soon. Of course, as his mother and I began to admonish him for such talk, he added that any day she was expected to lay her eggs. Lizzie is a frog.
That's plenty for now; pass this along to whomever and please let us know how you are doing.
Take care,
Jim
posted by Watts at 8:39 PM
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