Focused at Fifty

"Late Fall in Maine" What a year it has been. I don't want this to be a recap per se but more of just a commentary on this and that. Great things have happened, bad things have happened. I will touch on both. I am truly blessed for what I have. Yes I have complaints but most of them are rather comical and stupid like me freaking out to my doctor about an overblow minor medical issue (I arrive with a list) or me complaining the Maine house is soo big (really Marc? STFU fool). So as usual in no particular order, here's some of the real and ridiculous stuff I have dealt with:  I am neurotic and embrace it. I am a nerd and embrace it. I will always stand by my mantra that my glass is half full. In February, I got Covid the week before I was to get my vaccine which resulted in three weeks of an odd pandemic virus whose symptoms were unlike anything I've ever experienced before.  My brain fog from the Lyme disease is now exacerbated by the Covid. Yay me. Some days reall

There was this little tree. It grew from a concrete barricade in the middle of the road and I would pass it every morning coming off of the 78 highway in A-town. It was a desolate lonely little tree. One who glances at it may think of it more as a bush. But I know differently. I saw it from the very beginning and it was a little evergreen tree. And rising out of that cold concrete barricade, it stood as proudly as any tree ever could.  I smiled every time I saw it. It grew in a place where no little tree should grow. It grew against impossible odds, against harsh weather, harsh traffic and no soil. Starting as a small little sprout, it grew into a stubble, the then into the most perfect little which could ever grow from a stark concrete barricade. It oddly comforted me during my pandemic commute.  And then, true life happened and intervened. I drove past one morning and it had died. Was it the weather elements? The constant exhaust? The lack of water or soil? Possibly all three. But it

Katahdin Woods and Water National Monument During this last trip to Maine in October, I learned a lot. I have every trip to Maine but this time, I  decided to share it with you rather than keep this incredible wealth of knowledge trapped up in my mind. I mean FASCINATING! OK, just grab yourself a beer, hopefully an IPA and pull up a chair. There are lots of weird different bugs in Maine. I can't identify them. I see them and am like, OK that's new! Something purple with fangs.... now SHOOO!!!!  There are lots of spiders. Different colors and shapes and sizes. Luckily nothing which screams "Kingdom of the Spiders". Maine potatoes are just as good if not better than Idaho potatoes. And the fields of white potato flower are just beautiful!  Goats, chickens, sheep, horses and donkeys make great field buddies together. Add cows into the mix and it's a different story. (Awwwwwkwaaarrrd) Apparently cows have attitude?  Lobster is better in pairs and definitely steamed r

I apologize for the delay on this piece. It was tough watching the videos and reliving the memories.  This 9/11 was the 20th Anniversary of the most horrific terrorist attack ever wagered against our great country. Let that sink in. It is still that horrific. Nothing before or ever after has equaled it. And with God's blessing, may nothing ever ever again.  Four close friends experienced that harrowing day first hand. All are still traumatized in their own way. I won't go into too much detail to preserve their anonymity. One is a business man who was in one of the World Trade Center buildings (not the Towers) that fateful morning and luckily was able to get out. One is a doctor who immediately helped out at the scene. One is a first responder who immediately raced to the complex to help out regardless of the danger he was putting himself in. My final friend is a former NYC business man who ran from his Wall Street office and was enveloped by the cloud of concrete dust, remains,

"Dad Enjoying himself Reading" As streaks of rain beat across my office window, I watched the storm clouds roll by this morning. Then I noticed something interesting, the clouds were moving East to West, in the opposite direction. That's odd, I thought. They were moving rather quickly as well. Then I remembered the remnants of Hurricane Ida were moving through the area. This must be one of the bands of rains and winds passing through Allentown. I thought about my father and wished I could turn back time just as quickly as those clouds were moving East to West. How wonderful would that be, to have him younger and spry, once again ready to fight off the never ending gophers in his yard, to producing art in his studio as he once did, to be attending art events to his heart's content.   Now my Dad sits contently in his living room, listening to opera, sipping wine, stealing sips of my beer, reading articles and short stories or looking at art books. When we went out and I

As a child, I remember my mother was cooking in the kitchen on the stove, slowly stirring a small saucepan of Prego tomato sauce. I stood there right next to her, watching her intently. She moved the sauce onto a green avocado hot plate and turned off the electric burner, specifically warning me not to touch it as it was still hot. Being ever so precocious, I touched it immediately and howled in pain. For a good two weeks, I had first and second degree burns on my palm in the shape of the electric stove coils. You live and learn, right? Maybe not.  A waiter delivers my food in a restaurant and warns me that the plate is very hot as she puts it down in front of me. As soon as she leaves the table, I have this overwhelming urge to test her warning and touch it! I usually do and with my calloused fingers tips from decades of waiting tables, I laugh and scoff at her warning!  The other week I was baking these incredible triple chocolate brownies. For a split second, I forgot that the bakin

A bit ago, I was discussing a mutual acquaintance with someone and we talked about the very real issue of addiction among people we know. This acquaintance starts a job and then cannot follow through without whatever pain killer he takes. It eventually affects his ability to work and he just quits, unable to handle it. It was a sobering conversation. It was frank and uncomfortable.  The following blog is just my thoughts on the subject of addiction. At this juncture in my life, I am not looking for advice. Comments are always welcome.  I have complicated issues with alcohol. I've recently been pretty open about them. I don't look for sympathy from people. It is my own cross to bear. I will always have to watch what I drink. Something switches in me and I eventually become angry. I don't drink in the morning. I don't drink every day or night. I don't pass out from it at night. My issues stem from binge drinking so I have stopped doing the "shot" thing. No m

"Unabashedly Marc" The other afternoon, I passed the mirror in the hallway and glanced ever so slightly and quickly to my left. I stopped short with a fright, thinking I had seen my father or mother, but no, in that instant it was me staring back. My father's eyes. My mothers nose, her face. My real father's gray beard. Wow... it was me!  I asked myself,  When did this happen? Well it happened, I sighed. I stopped into the bathroom for a closer look and I see myself looking back at me in the mirror. And I also see my mother looking back at me. My biological father Joseph's eyes. The beard I vowed I would never grow, as I felt like I would look like the man I most despised. And yet here I was, unable to escape looking like the man I hated and happily looking like the woman I most loved (well, besides my dear Sis Sher LOL.) 😊 It was a conundrum of sorts. Left me a bit shaken and confused as to my feelings. I eventually realized that there is no out running my looks

I have had much to ponder about this past month, my 51st birthday month. This was a month which I was dreading all year long. It had nothing to do with the crazy Covid year. I quite simply was not looking forward to turning "51".  In retrospect, I was OK turning 30, 40, or 50. It was the year after which I had issues with. I think it's because it hit me that I was now in a new decade. I was 31, 41, or this year as the case may be, 51. It hits you and you realize, whelp ... there's no turning back now!  Another decade has sprung upon me! I was up in the new home in Maine this weekend, the Gardiner House as we call it. Built by Mr. Gardiner way back when in the late 1800s, it stands proudly with the test of time as well as a throwback to a far simpler time. it is not an overtly Victorian gingerbread but just a solid large farmhouse with an attached barn just a block from the town square. There is just a little gingerbread on the main side porch, suggesting a lace doily

One of my favorite memories growing up is the smell of onions being sautéed by my Mom in our kitchen. The smell eventually wafted through the house. If I was coming home from school, it was the first thing which greeted me walking through the side door. At that moment, I knew dinner was gonna be good!  To this day, this has been one of my favorite parts of a recipe, dropping those onions into a shimmering pan of oil, hearing them sizzle and smelling their strong flavor. For me, it's been the first sign of an delicious meal! In my two decades in the hotel/restaurant business, I have loved walking through the grand hotel kitchen, smelling the sautéing onions by a sous-chef on a huge ass stove for an upcoming banquet.  Here is the recipe I found online for caramelized onions which I have made several times. A couple people have asked me why does it take so long? Well the easiest and most basic answer I can say is that cooking them long and slow allows the naturally sweet onions to bec

Marc and Sheryl, Partners in Crime! Back in 2010, my sister Sheryl surprised me with tickets to see a the New York City Broadway show "All About Me" starring the internationally famed drag queen Dame Edna and Broadway legend Michael Feinstein. We took an evening bus from Philly and we off for the Big Apple! Sher had arranged for us to stay at an upscale modern hotel across from the Port Authority bus terminal. It was a quick overnight stay followed up by brunch at the famous Broadway restaurant Joe Allen, the show itself and then perhaps a cocktail before taking the bus back to Philly.  We arrived late in the evening delayed by the constant traffic on the NJ Turnpike. Luckily, the hotel was right across the street from the bus terminal. The small lobby, though normal size by NYC standards, was clean and sleek.  Our room had the view of the terminal but no worries as this contemporary room had the most comfortable beds ever! The bathroom was kinda too modern. It was a mixture

 

"My BF Grant and I, 1997" Youth is a gift of nature, but age is work of art.  Stanislaw Jerzy Lec, Polish writer and poet  I look at the youth of today and sometimes try and connect. I get this look from them like "You can't connect with me, you're old." I know that look. As I cringe, my inner voice frantically questions, "What? Wait, but I'm still only 50? I'm not that old. I'm middle aged! I still feel like 35 (well, mentally)!"   I look at what they wear, I look at the music they listen to, the trends, the expressions (no idea what they're saying) and I know I am not of that generation. It's all good though. We all have our time and place. I just wish it didn't smart as much to know those days are in my past.   I was checking out with the cashier at a convenience store the other evening. He was young, early 20s, I made a joke. He stared at me blankly. I thought for a second that he didn't get my joke. In a flash, I we

Homemade Choco-Chip Cookies! This is one of the recipes that my Mom had in her recipe box which I finally made! Ironically though, I don't remember her ever making them. 😏 What I do remember are the bags of Chips-Ahoy cookies as well as the "cookie dough rolls" she would buy to make over the holidays. She also "hid" the Chips Ahoy in the top cabinet of the kitchen. Silly mother, we always knew they were there. 😎 I guess after a long week of taking care of us three ornery children, the last thing Mom wanted to do was make chocolate chip cookies from scratch! So in her honor, I have finally made them, first time ever by myself.  This recipe was definitely a learning experience. I left the dough out a little too long and it began to get dry. So with the Big Ragu's help, I added a little whole milk, teaspoon by teaspoon to soften it up. After about 4 teaspoons, the dough was workable again to be able to drop it by dollops onto the cookies sheets. I doubled t

https://www.pexels.com/photo/yellow-banana-fruits-on-brown-surface-5966630/ The article below is reprinted from the January 2020 Savory magazine which I always find in the local supermarket. I forget which one. Anyway, it's a great magazine and they have an online presence at Savoryonline.com .  What are some quick and inexpensive options?   Breakfast helps fuel a busy morning, so try your best to make it a priority. However, as a mom of a toddler, I know how hectic mornings can be. Try prepping your breakfast the night before. Overnight oats or a PB and J on whole wheat bread paired with a piece of fruit are quick, easy, and affordable options. -Holly  Setting the stage for the day with a balanced breakfast doesn't have to be complicated or expensive. Get the day started with toast or a waffle topped with peanut butter and a piece of fruit. Greek yogurt or even string cheese with a piece of fruit are also two great combinations for a nutritious start to your day. -Sarah  Brea

"Cloud(ed) Memories" by Marc Haynes  I enjoy looking back at my 5 decades on this earth. I feel sometimes it’s been a whirlwind of memories and emotions. These days, those memories tend to get jumbled. I remember them pretty well but sometimes not without a discrepancy in detail or time. Did I go to Baltimore before San Francisco? What year was that? When was I last in Sedona? What was my one cat’s name back in childhood? Why did I not like that guy in college? What did he do to me to not like him so much? Does it even matter now? And you eventually realize, with a chuckle, that it does not. What matters are the good memories, and even the bad ones. And don’t forget those memories which you learned something from. That’s what shapes and molds us. Not the memory of that idiot roommate from freshman year in college.  We tend to get caught up in the details of it all. Does it matter when I went to Baltimore? I know that I went and had a blast. It was such a fun trip. John and I

7 Layer Cookie My father Robert Haynes's family owns a cattle ranch far into the deep southwest corner of South Dakota, just south of the town of Keldron. At the time, say the late 80s, Keldron had a population of 11. The next town due west was Thunderhawk with a population of 35. Further on through endless miles of prairie, was the sleepy town of Lemmon, SD, sitting right on the border with North Dakota, then with a population of 1900. Lemmon had the highschool, the hospital, etc and was the largest town for a hundred or so miles.  We visited the cousins on the Drieske/Haynes ranch for several summers during that time. What do I remember about those wonderful trips, these visits to the family ranch? Tons of cousins and family gathering for barbeques and horseshoes; long expanses of prairie; 1000s of locusts; horses and cattle; hunting for Sioux Indian arrowheads; seeing my first rattlesnake outside of a zoo; dry 105' summer heat; Lemmon South Dakota's Petrified Forest (loo