What I did this Summer

What I did this Summer

This summer we took a trip to Cape Cod. Stupid name. No one wore a cape and I didn't see a cod whatever that is. My dad yelled bad names at all the other cars on the road who were not going fast enough. We stayed at an old and smelly motel and played miniature golf. My brother, Robert, cheated and put the ball in the hole with his hand. People who were watching laughed and thought he was cute. I was angry because he had a better score than me. That is the trip we took this summer. President Kennedy was nearby in a place called High Anus. Stupid name.

Barry Levine, 8 years old

July 1961

  Barry, this was poorly written.  C -

From 1961 until 20 years later I had not visited Cape Cod until our honeymoon. We had since been there four more times in the last five years. Some things never change we stayed in a smelly motor inn where our clothes were constantly damp including the clothes that were in the suitcase.  The only time we didn't stay in a smelly hotel was when we stayed in the Radisson (as of this summer it is now a Doubletree) with their dial-a-number beds which was significantly more uncomfortable than an air mattress.

I happen to like Cape Cod. Until recently it was a place where we were contemplating retiring to. We asked some local retirees how they handle the winters there. They said the winters are not bad. They spend them in Florida. Another woman who retired there also stated that the winters aren't bad ... compared to the average snowfall of twelve feet in northern New Hampshire where she previously resided. Interesting that we cannot get a straight answer on this question.

Thirty one years ago on our honeymoon we parked near beaches and walked by the lighthouses and watched these little sand piper birds running along the beach. We watched the fog roll in and heard the roar of the waves crashing on the shore.

Now we can't get near the national seashore beaches or the lighthouses, parking costs fifteen dollars if you are lucky enough to get there early enough before the lots are full. Traffic is backed up for miles.  All of the other beaches are private and gated off or you need a town permit to park there. Our hotel advertised that they are a short walk to the beach. A short walk of one and a half miles.

This week was a particularly good week to take your young children to the town of Chatham located at the elbow of the Cape. The Cape looks like an arm of a person showing off his biceps and ending in a fist. The little kiddies were treated to great white sharks ripping apart cute little seals frolicking willy-nilly by the rocks.

I still like Cape Cod even though I do not like beaches. I hate the sand on my feet, I hate salt water and feel that when I step into the water I will step on a crab or sea urchin, get stung by a jellyfish and get bit by a great white shark but only after I realize I forgot to take my phone from my pocket thus incurring a $169 fee to replace it when I get out of the hospital with two hundred plus stitches that were required to sew my arm back on and a severe case of diarrhea from the antibiotics to treat the sea urchin sting.

On the way from New York to Cape Cod you have to pass through one of the least inviting states in the country, Rhode Island, which incidentally is not an island. Thankfully the trip from Connecticut to Massachusetts is only forty miles. Rhode Island does not even have a Welcome sign when you enter the state. There are no service plazas, tourist information centers and the rest areas are all under construction and closed. It's like going into a restaurant that has a sign that states that the rest room is out of order but you know that there is nothing wrong with it and they just don't want you to use it.

 

Not one bathroom for more than forty miles in Rhode Island and then none for the next fifty miles of Massachusetts! And for a couple with an enlarged prostate and IBS (I have the enlarged prostate, Ilana has IBS) this is no easy task. Rhode Island only wants people who own yachts or play polo. All others are encouraged to pass on through. At least Massachussetts has a welcome sign.

We decided to take a ghost tour of Barnstable Township the second evening we were at the Cape. I like the sound of that... The Cape. Makes me feel like I am an insider, a Capester! Let me tell you about the tour but be forewarned that after reading this you may not be able to sleep tonight.

We parked our car by the old jail of Barnstable at 8:00 PM. Oddly enough we were the only couple there. We thought that possibly the tour was cancelled and tried calling the tour company but we couldn't get a dial tone.

As the sun began to set a man walks out from behind the old jail dressed in colonial garb and wearing a tri-corner hat. He introduced himself as James Otis and asked us if we believed in Ghosts. I stated that I was highly skeptical. He stated that Barnstable is one of the most haunted towns in the Americas and that after this tour he guaranteed that I would be a believer.  I scoffed at him. He returned a self-deprecating smirk and collected the thirty dollar tour fee and we proceeded.

We began our walk and passed by several old homes and the town hall. James was very knowledgeable regarding the history of the area but there was nothing that he could say or do that would convince me that ghosts actually exist. After an hour we finally arrived at the last location of the tour, the Barnstable graveyard. There was very little light from the low Moon and there was a slight rustle of leaves from the trees.

 

James asked us to wait while he entered the cemetary first. After he entered he asked us to come in. He explained that the two waist high rock pillars at the entrance were there for the pall bearers to rest the coffin while they walked around to another entrance... the living entrance. He explained that the early residents believed that if they entered with the body of the deceased they too would die within the year.

After we had entered the old graveyard James explained that there were dark entities  along with the harmless souls that resided in the graveyard. He pointed out areas of the graveyard where sightings were frequent and often horrifying. He said we could walk around for a few minutes but to come back promptly as we need to leave as soon as possible. We started to walk and then turned around mere seconds later to ask James a question but he was no longer there. I walked to the head stone where he last stood and saw thirty dollars on the floor. I bent down to pick it up and when I had looked at the gravestone the name on it was ... James Otis!

Out hearts were beating so furiously they seemed like they would burst out of our chests. We ran to the tavern that was a block away and told them what happened. They stated that there hasn't been a tour in more than ten years as too many people were badly affected after entering the graveyard that the tour company could no longer get people to take the tour. Noticing our fright they told us to sit down and gave us a cup of grog to calm our jittery nerves.

At least this is what we told the kids what happened. I still don't believe in ghosts but I do enjoy these tours. We still haven't confessed that we made up the story and since they refuse to read my blog they will never know unless one of you tell them. And if you do and I find out, well, I can be very vindictive. We did take the tour given by Derek, head ghost hunter of the Cape and Islands Paranormal Research Institute and found the tour to be quite interesting. There was a family from Syracuse, New York, who took the tour three times this week.

James Otis was a local Barnstable politician and loyalist who got fed up with the King and  stated in 1756 that "Taxation without representation is tyranny". He promptly got his head bashed in for saying that but survived the attack. This was the educational component of this blog.

No trip to Cape Cod is complete without attending a performance at the Cape Playhouse in Dennis. The playhouse is a summer stock theater that has attracted many Broadway legends and continues to do so to this day at about  40% of the price of a Broadway show. They do six shows each summer. This year we saw Nunsense. Not one of my favorites but it was done well and had scenes that had us laughing so hard it nearly ripped the stitches out of my arm reattachment.

For dinner we took advantage of the cheap lobstah (that's how they pronounce lobster in the Cape) prices and had twin lobstahs. I didn't see a close resemblance in either of the lobsters and concluded that they must be fraternal twins. Ilana is a pro at eating lobstahs now. In an earlier blog relating our honeymoon experience I mentioned her first attempt at dismembering a full lobstah. It did not go well for the lobstah, Ilana or the people sitting at the next table who should have been wearing their lobstah bibs.

One thing I do not get is the attraction of the Lobstah Roll. They take the delicious lobstah meat, mix it with mayonnaise and celery and put it on a hot dog bun and charge you anywhere from $12.95 to $18.95. For $19.95 we had the twin lobstahs, salad and french fries at Salty's on Route 28 in South Yarmouth. Ilana could eat lobstah breakfast, lunch and dinner. Once a year is fine by me I prefer shrimp.

 

Note: I feel bad about my critical portrayal of Rhode Island. If I am wrong please let me know if there is anything worthwhile to do there. By the way a welcome sign would be nice.

The Most Uninteresting Man

When I speak no one listens.
Pigeons avoid dropping lucky stuff on my head.
Man-eating animals turn away.
Mosquitoes do not bite me.
I am an expert in dueling remote controls.
Women flock away when I enter the room.
Children cry for their mommy when I enter the playground and sit on a bench.
My wife falls asleep when I compliment her.
Friends ask me to stay in the VIP room at parties. Alone.
My dog does not take food from me.

Yes. I am the world's must uninteresting man.

I don't always drink diet soda but when I do, I drink diet coke
Stay thirsty my friends.  

I do not think of myself as an interesting person. I believe I can count the fingers on one hand all of the times I have been witty and charming at social gatherings. Even on those occasions I am pretty sure that I may have been witty or charming but never both at the same time. 

Even my children did not find me interesting. I have a  bad habit of providing additional content, added value is a better word for it, on family outings or when we watched television together. For example, we would be at the Bronx zoo and walking down an area that was old forest in appearance and I would say "look kids, this is what the Bronx actually looked like two hundred years ago". By the umpteenth time we went to the zoo we would be walking down the path and before I could espout my knowledge the kids would say, "This is what the Bronx was like two hundred years ago now you don't have to say it".  My kids compared me to Cliff Klaven, the postman and veritable fountain of mis-knowledge on Cheers.

I have been accused of being a know-it-all but I do not agree with that characterization of me. I definitely know that I do not know it all. For example I will not comment on quantum mechanics with the exception of Schroder's cat who we all know is that loveable animal that lies on top of a dog house and flies a WWI bi-plane in an attempt to shoot down the Red Baron in the Peanuts cartoon strip. By the way the Red Baron survived and opened a pizza chain.

My job entails public speaking and I have always had the desire to get up in front of the crowd and tell some amusing anecdotes and jokes and at one function I prepared several. One of my previous directors was present at that dinner and made it a point to state to all at the next departmental meeting  that most people who do speak in public are better off trying not to be funny. He attended many presentations each month so I am not actually sure if he was referring to me.

Well, if you can't be funny, you might as well be interesting. People who are funny are invariably interesting. They can say anything whether accurate or not and people will tell them that they enjoyed their speech, learned so much from it and will take all of that now knowledge home and put it to good use. The speaker could have told them that a tooth brush and a fleet enema are perfect together to get into the little crevasses in your large intestine and the audience would say, "Why didn't I think of that? He is such a clever man".

But going back to the advice of the director, I do realize that speaking in public is quite different than getting up in front of a crowd at the comedy club who have already consumed more alcohol than allowed by law to operate a motor vehicle or heavy machinery.  Therefore I must stick to being informative and trying to be interesting enough to get the point across without losing the audience.

The typical meeting usually goes like this:

Me:     

I would like to tell you about a new way that the federal government will fund our programs.

Guy in the back:

Where's the goddamn donuts?

Me:       

Citibank will be investing in our property in lieu of a tax credit.

Horny 90 year old woman in the front row to the woman on her left:

He is so handsome. He has such a nice beard.

Me:

Through this partnership we will be getting many of the capital improvements that are much needed such as replacement of our aging elevators

Guy in the back:

When are they going to put out the donuts? I gotta go to the bathroom.

Me:

We will begin elevator installation next week

Woman in the second row:

We need new elevator! When will we get new elevators?

Me:
They will start being installed next week.

Same woman:

The elevators need to be replaced!

Me:

They are. Next week.

Same woman:

(feel asleep mid-sentence) z z z z z z

Obviously nobody cares as to what I am saying. I am not funny nor am I interesting. I am the antithesis of that old stock broker commercial ... "When Barry Levine talks nobody listens!". At the dinner table I would say to Ilana, "Work was tough today. I am stressed out and we need to go away for a few days. If it gets worse then this I am going to throw myself in front of a bus". Ilana would reply "That's nice. So how was work today?" I would repeat the comment about throwing myself in front of a bus and then she would ask if I need a new Metrocard[1]. 

In order to avoid conversation with me my daughter will put her ear plugs in her ears and pretend she is listening to music. Of course the other end is just hanging there not inserted in any device. I'd wave to her to get her attention and say "Alyssa they are not plugged in." Her response would be "Have you ever heard of bluetooth?". "The pirate?" I would respond. There was a time that I was a god in the eyes of my children. Now I am a boring old fart still living in the age of the boom box and Laugh-in.

In order to appear more interesting I have decided to include colorful interjections into my conversation such as Leap'n Lizards, Great Caesar's Ghost and Great Scott!  I tried Shazaam and Golly but that was received as too Gomer Pyleish. I am shooting to appear more intelligent in my conversations. You have to be careful when adding colorful interjections. I had a boss who was told that her staff did not like her because she was perceived to be stuffy and have her nose up in the air. She decided to counter this by talking to us as if she was one of us. Every other word out of her mouth was punctuated by "Freakin" and "a-hole". So she would try to make everyday conversation and say"I was on the train to day this freakin' guy had the nerve to get a heart attack and delay the rest of us from getting to work on time. What an a-hole". Yes. That is how professionals speak to each other at work.

When I don't speak I do emit an aura of knowledge and sophistication. For example whenever I am in a shopping mall people come to me and ask me where the food courts and bathrooms are.

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[1] Metrocard is a cash preloaded card used to pay bus and train fares and occasionally buy a Big Mac hamburger at participating McDonalds.