The blog has begun. This is the first of many, I promise. I welcome all feedback and give you a warning that this is stream-of-conscience writing and there might be grammatical errors, ... I guess I just don't think in proper grammar. And I know if you are reading this right now you don't really need to see the blog, but here is the website anyway.
http://www.jtmckeon75.blogspot.com/
Link to my previous blog in Helsinki, Finland can be found here
http://www.jtmckeon.blogspot.com/
I decided I wanted to start writing before I left. I wanted to do it that way so my first entry could be totally non-biased and written in my comfort zone of Raleigh, North Carolina. But the past three weeks have been extremely hectic. Moving out of my apartment, settling bills, and packing for 7 1/2 months for an oversea move, all during the holiday weeks... are not for the faint of heart. So it is over a week and a half later, and I am in an airport in Philadelphia, spending my 5-hour layover awake and typing, so the flight to Charles DeGualle will pass behind heavy eyelids.
Even after the great send-off meal, graciously prepared by my neighbors Kim and Dave Turnage in Raleigh, .. it was all still surreal to me on the drive up north. I am leaving again... this time I might not come back. Haha, I'll come back to that, it's too early for the deep stuff.
I had literally packed my entire life, ... or (maybe the less dramatic and more accurate) the version of my life for the next seven months. I drove most the way and time passed quickly and as we crossed the border on I-87 and I began to notice the week-old snowdirt and the scarred/jagged rockhills passing by my window, ...I realized I was back home in New York.
From Raleigh, when I think of my grandmother's house in Staatsburg, all those warm and fuzzy childhood feelings swell up around my chest. Pulling into the driveway those feelings were still there and still overwhelming, ...it was smiles everywhere greeting us that Sunday afternoon. Walking into that house as a 25 year-old man, part of me still feels like the 12 year-old boy who was raised by almost a dozen women that always lived conveniently close to me. I think some of my aunts see me less grown then others, nevertheless I am lucky. Citing a conversation I had a week later with my aunt MaryEllen, very few people in this world have what I have... the utterly complete and unconditional love of so many people, ... whose number one concern always seems to be my well-being. I always have and always will consider myself an extremely lucky son, grandson, nephew, and cousin. 
Even though I work the lively nightlife industry, I felt overwhelmed by the frenzied whirlwind that seems to occupy that house the four days I spend in Staatsburg. I was almost uncomfortable at the pace things had taken I didn't really get to relax as much as I wished. But I guess that is what the holidays are, a time to break good habits and eat so much you wonder if those jeans you bought ever really fit as well as you thought they did.
With so many people visiting and in town for Caileigh's baptism Meghan and Victoria were bedding at the Laurentiev's, while Greg, (Meghan's boyfriend) and myself were relegated to the Brown's house.
Note on the Brown's: That house is unrecognizable compared to when I saw it last, amazing planning and execution so far. Can't wait to see it further along.
The next day Victoria and I found a gym (the judgement-free zone of Planet Fitness) and ran some errands before the evening baptism at St. Paul's. The sacrement was by none other than my uncle Father Rob and was a private affair, if you consider over thirty family members private. Dinner was two six-foot deli sandwichs created by specialist food service engineer Katie Laurentiev ;).
The following day was spent between Staatsburg and the Brown's Poughkeepsie, going to the gym, wrestling tiny cousins, 
and visiting the Vanderbilt Mansion to take in the gorgeous panorama and frozen wind off the Hudson. That night we went to a local dive named Darby O'Gills in Hyde Park where I was to meet some old classmates from the good ol' Regina Coeli days. Ian MacGregor, Megan Baker, and Christine Rock all made it out for drinks and it was amazing to see everyone. My cousins Mykkii, Katie, and Christine joined us and we had great time catching up and sharing stories of what the hell we had been up to over the last 10 or so years.
When we woke on New Year's Eve Day to three inches of snowfall I was satisfied. I had gotten what I came for. Citing Tete, I had "filled up" and was ready to start anew and refreshed.
The drive to the city was uneventful until it came to finding a parking spot. Not an ideal time to drive into mid-town Manhattan, 4 p.m. on New Year's Eve, that is. Streets were being shut down left and right, and rivers of tourists blocked intersections. Mel was eaten dinner with Laurentiev's at a fancy burger joint named 5 Napkins, but jumped into Suburban and whipped it around like at true New York driver and found a spot in a lot in no time. 
From Raleigh, when I think of my grandmother's house in Staatsburg, all those warm and fuzzy childhood feelings swell up around my chest. Pulling into the driveway those feelings were still there and still overwhelming, ...it was smiles everywhere greeting us that Sunday afternoon. Walking into that house as a 25 year-old man, part of me still feels like the 12 year-old boy who was raised by almost a dozen women that always lived conveniently close to me. I think some of my aunts see me less grown then others, nevertheless I am lucky. Citing a conversation I had a week later with my aunt MaryEllen, very few people in this world have what I have... the utterly complete and unconditional love of so many people, ... whose number one concern always seems to be my well-being. I always have and always will consider myself an extremely lucky son, grandson, nephew, and cousin. 
Even though I work the lively nightlife industry, I felt overwhelmed by the frenzied whirlwind that seems to occupy that house the four days I spend in Staatsburg. I was almost uncomfortable at the pace things had taken I didn't really get to relax as much as I wished. But I guess that is what the holidays are, a time to break good habits and eat so much you wonder if those jeans you bought ever really fit as well as you thought they did.
With so many people visiting and in town for Caileigh's baptism Meghan and Victoria were bedding at the Laurentiev's, while Greg, (Meghan's boyfriend) and myself were relegated to the Brown's house.
Note on the Brown's: That house is unrecognizable compared to when I saw it last, amazing planning and execution so far. Can't wait to see it further along.
The next day Victoria and I found a gym (the judgement-free zone of Planet Fitness) and ran some errands before the evening baptism at St. Paul's. The sacrement was by none other than my uncle Father Rob and was a private affair, if you consider over thirty family members private. Dinner was two six-foot deli sandwichs created by specialist food service engineer Katie Laurentiev ;).
The following day was spent between Staatsburg and the Brown's Poughkeepsie, going to the gym, wrestling tiny cousins, 
and visiting the Vanderbilt Mansion to take in the gorgeous panorama and frozen wind off the Hudson. That night we went to a local dive named Darby O'Gills in Hyde Park where I was to meet some old classmates from the good ol' Regina Coeli days. Ian MacGregor, Megan Baker, and Christine Rock all made it out for drinks and it was amazing to see everyone. My cousins Mykkii, Katie, and Christine joined us and we had great time catching up and sharing stories of what the hell we had been up to over the last 10 or so years.
When we woke on New Year's Eve Day to three inches of snowfall I was satisfied. I had gotten what I came for. Citing Tete, I had "filled up" and was ready to start anew and refreshed.
The drive to the city was uneventful until it came to finding a parking spot. Not an ideal time to drive into mid-town Manhattan, 4 p.m. on New Year's Eve, that is. Streets were being shut down left and right, and rivers of tourists blocked intersections. Mel was eaten dinner with Laurentiev's at a fancy burger joint named 5 Napkins, but jumped into Suburban and whipped it around like at true New York driver and found a spot in a lot in no time. 
Exhausted I dared not to venture out into the freezing madness that was mid-town that night. Call me what you will but that is not my idea of a good time, not when I can see Time Square from Mel's 15th story apartment window. The company was MaryEllen, two of her friends Carla and Jen, Aunt Kathy, cousins Katie, Christine, and Sarah, my sister Meghan and Greg, and Victoria and myself. And we all shared champange and kisses at midnight, .... which are of course more cozy indoors and above freezing. At nearly 1 a.m. Meghan, Greg, Victoria, and myself made our way to a bar named the Irish Rogue roughly a block away from Mel's place at 43th and 9th. During our first round, a tall thin guy walks by the table and briefly makes eye contact with us and I recognize the guy. Victoria realizes it was Carson Daly, less then an hour after he finished the New Year's Countdown for NBC. The network's private party was going on at the the Irish Rogue second floor. It was a nice welcome to NYC event for North Carolina small-towner Greg, as well as for the rest of us. We had made it, ... we were in the city for New Year's Eve, ...a first for me and it was a great unforgettable night. Thanks MaryEllen.
The next day's lunch was Thai food at Bangkok House, near Mel's, then a walk through the still ridiculously dirty and crowded Time Square to the packed Rockefeller Square. The photo ops continued at tourist stops at St. Patrick's Cathedral and Saks on Fifth Avenue. Then a stroll down to 
Grand Central Station to see off the cousins Katie, Christine, and Sarah and Aunt Kathy.
Grand Central Station to see off the cousins Katie, Christine, and Sarah and Aunt Kathy.
A quick subway ride down to Union Square later, we met MaryEllen and Therese for dinner at Blue Water Grill and it was amazing. I had blackened swordfish, and it was the best meal I've had on this trip. 
Thank you Therese for the wonderful dinner. Still reeling on the amazing dinner, Victoria had arranged us to meet one of her "best" friends out at Gotham Comedy Club, for the night's perfomance at 8 p.m. It was my first ever stand-up experience and was unbelievable. The first comic was from Staten Island, and his gimmick was that everyone said he looked like a cop, but not a cool cop, ... like a mean cop. Hahaha... well I guess comedy doesn't translate over email, you might of had to be there. There were five comics in all, one MC that was recognizable from a small Sopranos role, and 4 other's that each did 30 minute spots. Staten Island mean cop was followed by a Dave Chappelle look-a-like who did an amazing Obama impression. (Greg swears he recognized from some small movie role, and based on Greg's knowledge of bad comedies I believe him.) Obama wannabe was followed by Italian/Jewish girl who hated herself and everyone else. She forgot much of her routine, ... which was probably the funniest part of her act. The last guy was distantly recognizable, but whined about New York and his Jewish mother. Highlights were definetly the first two acts. 
Note on comedy clubs in New York: Going into the club I understood there was a $15 cover charge and a two drink minimum, what surprised me was my $8 Amstel Light bottles and my sister $14 G&T's, but hey... we were in NYC and on vacation so it didn't ruin the night, but it doesn't stop you from counting the number of Miller Lite I could of had at Stoolies.... haha. Or the 30-pack of Keystone Light for $11.99 in Hyde Park. Hahah.... disgusting.
The next morning me and Victoria woke up and a decent hour and walked through mid-town to Central Park. After strangely running into her friends from the night before in Times Square, we entered at Columbus Circle and attempted to jog thru much of the park, stopping at all the 
appropriate photo ops of course. In the Ramble, a hilly forested areas in the center of the Park with ran into two Central Park Rangers, who get paid by the City of New York to birdwatch. Seriously, ... these guys seemed to have it made, and let me know they did have it made as they pointed out everything from the Redtailed Hawks to the many Tufted Titmouses, ... or is it Titmice. Anyways, these guys were really cool, and you could tell they really like their job. We were freezing so was they pointed toward the Central Park Boathouse, which was a restaurant and cafe on one of the park's many small lakes. After a cup of tea in the park and a jog back to mid-town through flurries, we did a bit of shopping.
Thank you Therese for the wonderful dinner. Still reeling on the amazing dinner, Victoria had arranged us to meet one of her "best" friends out at Gotham Comedy Club, for the night's perfomance at 8 p.m. It was my first ever stand-up experience and was unbelievable. The first comic was from Staten Island, and his gimmick was that everyone said he looked like a cop, but not a cool cop, ... like a mean cop. Hahaha... well I guess comedy doesn't translate over email, you might of had to be there. There were five comics in all, one MC that was recognizable from a small Sopranos role, and 4 other's that each did 30 minute spots. Staten Island mean cop was followed by a Dave Chappelle look-a-like who did an amazing Obama impression. (Greg swears he recognized from some small movie role, and based on Greg's knowledge of bad comedies I believe him.) Obama wannabe was followed by Italian/Jewish girl who hated herself and everyone else. She forgot much of her routine, ... which was probably the funniest part of her act. The last guy was distantly recognizable, but whined about New York and his Jewish mother. Highlights were definetly the first two acts. 
Note on comedy clubs in New York: Going into the club I understood there was a $15 cover charge and a two drink minimum, what surprised me was my $8 Amstel Light bottles and my sister $14 G&T's, but hey... we were in NYC and on vacation so it didn't ruin the night, but it doesn't stop you from counting the number of Miller Lite I could of had at Stoolies.... haha. Or the 30-pack of Keystone Light for $11.99 in Hyde Park. Hahah.... disgusting.
The next morning me and Victoria woke up and a decent hour and walked through mid-town to Central Park. After strangely running into her friends from the night before in Times Square, we entered at Columbus Circle and attempted to jog thru much of the park, stopping at all the 
appropriate photo ops of course. In the Ramble, a hilly forested areas in the center of the Park with ran into two Central Park Rangers, who get paid by the City of New York to birdwatch. Seriously, ... these guys seemed to have it made, and let me know they did have it made as they pointed out everything from the Redtailed Hawks to the many Tufted Titmouses, ... or is it Titmice. Anyways, these guys were really cool, and you could tell they really like their job. We were freezing so was they pointed toward the Central Park Boathouse, which was a restaurant and cafe on one of the park's many small lakes. After a cup of tea in the park and a jog back to mid-town through flurries, we did a bit of shopping. 
Friday night's plan was MaryEllen local hangout spot an Irish pub named Dalton's the corner of 43rd and 9th. It was karaoke night which was kicked off in grand style by our waiter and MaryEllen's good friend Jacob Heal. Jacob is an asprining singer/songwriter and for a small guy has huge voice. Marc Cohn's, "Walking to Memphis," never sounded so good. I tipped back a couple Magner's, an Irish cider was cannot get in Raleigh, and the rest of the gang started in hard on the shots. It wasn't long before Greg was behind the mic, singing Alan Jackson or something named "Watermelon Crawl." Not much later I succumb to the peer pressure and crank out my finest rendition of "Possum Kingdom" by The Toadies. It was a great night and most everyone was in rare form. Apparently Carla starting buying tequila shots, so I wasn't surprised when she accidently left her camera in the women's room and we she went back to get it, it was no where to be found. Besides that, the night was great and ended late. 
As MaryEllen, Meghan, and Greg slept off their hangovers, ... Victoria and I crawled out of bed at the crack of noon to make to the ticket counter at the Phantom of the Opera. We bought tickets to the 2 p.m. show and grab some brunch before the start of it.
Note on Phantom of the Opera: I've never been to a Broadway musical. I've never been to a musical. I've never been to a play. So this was a completely brand new and exciting experience for me. Phantom is probably the most popular musical in the world and getting to see it in the theater that was built for it. The singers were outstanding and didn't miss a note, the orchestra swelled and fell with amazing professionalism. I was extreme impressed with the quality of the acting and showmanship of the company. I am glad I went, hope to learn more in the future about this art that I know nothing about.
I'll finish trip to NYC in the next blog and email. Here are some thoughts and books I've been reading lately.
Stephen Clarke, "A Year in the Merde" - Fiction about a Brit living in Paris for work for one year. Hilarious English language perspective. Highly Recommended.
Anthony Bourdain, Editor, "America's Best Travel Writers 2008" - I want to learn as much as I can about travel writing, so I got this to expand my understanding of that area of writing. Made of up great articles and excerpts from National Geographic, Travel + Leisure, Salon.com, and many more.
I also want to leave you all with this clip of the Dr. Suess Book "Oh, the places you will go!" My neighbor Kim Turnage has recently graduated from nursing school. During her graduation party I came upon the book given to her as a gift from a thoughful friend. I had never read the book before, and being an extremely big fan of children's rhyming literature I had to read it. It struck surprisingly deep, and I wanted to share a couple choices passages. Maybe I just thought they applied to my situation.... but I think everyone can take some insight from the good Dr. and get something from it.
Opening Lines....
Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.
Later in the book....
You'll get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...
...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a sting of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.
Don't just wait, get out there!
Link to full narrative : http://schools.fsusd.k12.ca.us/schools/fhs/teacher/link/GigioC/Dreamweaver%202/Oh%20The%20Places%20you'll%20Go.htm
Love you all,
John
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