Technology.

Today is my Sunday. Tomorrow I’m back on schedule with work. It’s all good.

To celebrate my day off, I am getting some errands done and doing some exploring in the Jeep. And this is where it occurs to me that technology is awesome.

For example, I just took this photo of some parking skillz in Downtown Utica. I took the photo using my iPhone.


To get the photo from my iPhone to my iPad, I didn’t wait for Apple’s iCloud service to sync it up, I simply used an app called “Bump”. I banged my iPhone and my iPad together and the photo was instantly transferred over to my iPad, ready for inclusion in the blog entry.

After admiring the parking skills of the Utica natives, I stopped at Bagg’s Square Café Express where I picked up a Venti Iced Green Tea and paid for it with my face using the Square app (I talked about this last week).

I am now picking up a solar light at the Lowe’s that I know has them in stock because it was indicated in the affirmative online. From here I will stop at the gas station along my intended route where I know the price is the lowest (courtesy of Gas Buddy) and then I will select my lunch stop based on recommendations from Yelp!

I love being a geek.

Stars On!

I didn’t know this megamix existed until a few hours ago. I’ve never heard of “Girls Aloud” but I really like this medley they released back in 2009. The clap track goes through the entire megamix! Awesome!

Monday.

So today is Monday and the energy level on the street indicates this fact. I must seem hyper around others because today is my Friday, so I’m all happy and I have a smile on my face and I’m thinking about my plans for tomorrow, even though it’s an abbreviated ‘weekend’ for me.

Sitting in this shopping center parking lot during my lunch hour on a somewhat daily basis gives me the opportunity to make some observations:

1. Most people eat at the Chinese buffet on Thursdays.
2. Not very many people eat at the Italian restaurant on Mondays.
3. A lot of people eat Italian on Fridays.
4. Dunkin’ Donuts is almost always empty when I go in on Tuesday.
5. The food delivery trucks almost always arrive during lunch hour (which must piss off their customers).
6. The bank is never busy.

These are random things I notice and I can’t really tell you why I notice these things, I just do.

I hope everyone is enjoy their Monday as much as I’m enjoying mine. I’m going to sip some iced tea now. It was prepared and waiting for me when I entered the Dunkin’ Donuts a little while ago. They just magically pulled it out from behind the cookie case when I walked in. Mary told me she was expecting me.

Sweet.


So I have been craving chocolate milk lately. I don’t know why I have been having this craving because it’s been a long time since I have craved chocolate milk. It’s just something that I’ve been wanting to have and this need is without explanation. I’m pretty sure I’m not pregnant, so that can’t be it. Besides, if I was pregnant, I’d probably do the chop-suey-in-the-purse thing. And I don’t even carry a purse.

I’m digressing.

We have some Nestlé Quik in the house. Actually, I think it’s called Nesquik these days. Back in my day we called it Tang. Maybe we didn’t. I tried the Nesquik and it did nothing for me. It tasted a little too syrupy and didn’t satisfy my craving. I think I might have licked the ceiling a few times after drinking it, though, because it seemed really sweet. No, I had to have chocolate milk from the Byrne Dairy, a dairy corporation native to Central New York. I grew up on milk from the Byrne Dairy at school (our milk at home first came from a milkman, then it came from pails from the farm down the street, then it came from wherever Mom stopped that night for groceries, but usually the Byrne Dairy and it was in a glass bottle.) I was always given the extra 8¢ on a daily basis so I could by an extra chocolate milk. Sometimes I bought one chocolate and one white. Each was a half pint and Mrs. Spath always charged me extra for the cheaper of the two. She was nice like that.

Since I dropped a few hints on Facebook I thought that there might be some chocolate milk at home when I arrived from work, but alas, Earl is not feeling well today and as I did my employment duties Jamie made sure that he was okay (he is). Chocolate milk was not high on the priority list. I hid my slight disappointment.

Jamie ran out to pick up supper and on his way home, low and behold he stopped at the really expensive Fastrac and picked up a half gallon of chocolate milk. I just had some after noticing that it wasn’t from the Byrne Dairy but rather from Upstate Farms. I have been told via Facebook that Upstate Farms is a Western New York based dairy corporation. Their chocolate milk is quite tasty and much closer to what I expected versus the Nesquik stuff I had. My craving has been met for the time being, but I think the two glass bottles pictured above will be replaced by two new bottles on Tuesday: a half gallon of skim milk (for cereal!) and and half gallon of chocolate milk (because it tastes so good!)

In the meantime I thank Jamie for his efforts on my behalf and I will enjoy this real chocolate milk import from Buffalo.

Thought.

I had written a reminder to myself almost a year ago. I thought it would be a great Father’s Day present. The plan was simple: the new plane would be ready for passengers. I’d get up at the crack of dawn and drive the hour to get to the airport, which is really just a mowed, grassy-strip flanked by trees and a gravel bed and marked with “16” and “34” laid in the ground in cinder blocks. We’d push the plane out of it’s hanger. He would make a thorough inspection to make sure everything was perfectly ready for the flight and then we’d take-off. Hopefully we’d take off towards the north so we wouldn’t have to take off over the power lines at the south end of the runway. We’d head to a fly-in breakfast for Father’s Day, just like we had done so many times in the 1940 Piper J5-A back when I was teenager. The destination would be at Weedsport, Canastota, Marcellus or maybe even Penn Yan. We’d land and put the plane in just the right spot. He would order eggs because pancakes scared him to death (due to his allergy to buckwheat); I’d eat the pancakes because I don’t eat eggs. We’d both eat bacon or sausage. After breakfast we’d chat with the other pilots that had made the journey. I’m sure many would have looked over the new Wittman Tailwind.

Much has changed in a year. I miss you, Dad. Happy Father’s Day. Thinking of you today has generated a couple of tears but many, many smiles.

iTheme2.

Visitors to the actual site of the blog will note that I have changed the visual theme of the site again and I think I have found a theme that I am pleased with. This theme is called iTheme2 and I think it looks good and represents my Mac tendencies very well.

I have also added a couple of widgets to the side (even if I’m a little late on my Happy Pride Month! widget this year). Feel free to browse around.

Gas.

The first time I pumped gas at a self-serve station was at the Hess on the corner of Henry Clay Blvd. and Buckley Rd. in the town of Salina, outside of Syracuse. This station sits in a more industrial part of town. I was riding with Grandma City in the Ford Granada she had just purchased. It was a used car from Canada. She advised me that she was only doing 60% of what the speedometer said because the gauges were in metric. 60% of very slow is still very slow. Grandma City had a tendency to drive slow. We were going to a warehouse sale at Fays Drugs on Henry Clay Blvd. There must have been a discount on African Violets or something.

I have probably pumped gas a couple of thousand times since that first time at the Hess station on Henry Clay Blvd. We have a Hess station relatively close by, but there’s a Fastrac station about a mile from the house so we go there. I just filled up the Jeep in preparation for my commute to work in the morning. I don’t like starting out the day with the need of gas. I like to be prepared.

The gas at all of the local stations is 10 to 15 cents higher per gallon than it is in nearby Syracuse or Albany. I once asked a very important person at Fastrac why this was the case and they told me it was because our area doesn’t have any terminals near by and therefore the gas has to be brought in by truck. I thought all gas was brought in by truck. I didn’t mention the fact that River Road, the same road that the Fastrac is on, is lined with huge gas tanks that are marked with signs that indicate it’s a terminal. Today I paid $3.589 a gallon, which is marked down from $3.659 because I have a gimmick card from Fastrac. I’m not a big fan of the gimmick card, but every few cents per gallon helps the budget. When you commute as much as I do, you watch your fuel budget and hope that heaven doesn’t require you to be completely green. My carbon footprint should be getting smaller soon.

I think gas might have been $1.099 that first time I pumped it myself on Henry Clay Blvd. Far from the $0.299 that Goober pumped in Mayberry but even farther from the $3.589 price tag I pumped today. When I was graduating from high school there was some quick reduction of gas prices for a little while during some sort of event in the Middle East. I once paid $0.799 a gallon to fill my 1976 Pontiac Astre. People called it “the Disastre” because it was a Vega in a fancy suit. It got me from point A to point B so I didn’t care so much. It was a really weird green color. When I wore my red snowsuit while driving it I looked like an olive with me in the starring role as the pimento.

Local.

Today is the first day of my weekend. Tomorrow isn’t the second day of my weekend though, that title goes to next Tuesday. I have a four day work week that starts tomorrow. I need to drive to work for three of those days. Tomorrow is not one of those days.

Usually when I have a day off during the week I go on a road trip and explore the back roads of the Empire State, but I decided earlier in the week that I would approach today different and stay local. Ever since starting my latest job over two years ago and commuting a total of 2 1/2 hours a day, I have felt a little disconnected from home life and really disconnected from the neighborhood. Most find reasons to complain about this area of New York (it’s not the most prosperous area of the Northeast by any stretch of the imagination), today I tried to find a reason to boast about it.

The “main street” of Utica is actually not called Main Street (though we do have one of those), it’s called Genesee Street. Today I drove the length of Genesee Street and admired the houses south of Oneida Square. Many have been turned into law or medical offices, but down towards South Utica the houses are still houses and look quite nice. I didn’t want to be labeled a stalker so I didn’t take photos of any houses, but I did take a photo while driving up Genesee Street and it looked a little bit like this.

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If you look close you can see a tiny reflection of me in the windshield.

Today was my “take care of me” day, and since someone at work commented that I needed a haircut (I haven’t shaved my head in a couple of weeks), I decided to go to the barbershop in Union Station, the train and bus station that sits just north of downtown on what is really called Main Street.

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Near the tracks in the Farmer’s Market area.

This building houses many county offices, including the Department of Motor Vehicles, which is right in the main lobby of the train station. The building also hosts a Farmer’s Market every Saturday morning and has a couple of little eateries and a barbershop. The barbershop is one of only three left in the country that are in a train station and has been in continuous operation since the 1910s. It’s currently owned by a father and son. I met the father today. His name is Leo and he buzzed my hair back down to a shadow. I also took the opportunity to enjoy a hot lather, straight razor shave. During the shave he mentioned that he had never shaved around such a large mustache before but it’s what barbers must have done in the late 1800s. He tamed it a bit with some wax while chatting away. I like Leo, he did a good job, I didn’t feel the razor at all (and I have experienced some heavy handed barber in my time) and I will be visiting him more often. It’s good to support the businesses that are trying to keep the local culture alive.

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I then stopped at Bagg’s Square Café Express (link goes to the full café which is a couple of blocks away on Broad Street), which is also in the main lobby of the train station and features Starbucks products. We don’t have Starbucks in this area, only folks that sell Starbucks products. I picked up a Venti Unsweetened Green Iced Tea and it was delicious. The cool thing about that experience was that I was able to pay using the Square app on my iPhone. My photo appeared on their screen, I told them who I was and they charged it to the credit card linked to my Square account. I could have added a tip if I wanted to but I opted to drop some cash into their tip jar instead. No credit card, no numbers exchanged, just my photo and that’s it. That is wicked cool to me and I wish more businesses would adopt the same approach in this area.

Earl and I enjoyed a nice lunch together and then I spent the afternoon cleaning my home office, joining a conference call at work (sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do) and then visiting my chiropractor to get my neck and back back on track.

My mind, body and soul are soaring today. And I owe it all to my home turf.  Sometimes it’s good to stop and see what’s close to home instead of venturing off into faraway lands.