On The Sly

For years I've watched my neighbors cruising around their yards on their riding lawnmowers. I'm not sure who was the first, but on some Saturday mornings last July, with all the neighborhood intent on clipping their front lawns, it sounded like NASCAR practice runs. That can interrupt a guy's sleep, you know.

From the front end of Saratoga Court, all the way up the street and into the cul-de-sac, guys would be riding their lawn mowers, baseball caps bouncing atop their heads, smiling and waving to passersby. I'd always wanted to be among them. I wanted to join Jeff and Si and Casey and Floyd and the rest. But there I'd be, grass up to my knees, pulling the cord on an old gas-powered push-along lawnmower.

Times have changed, my friends! Last week I accepted delivery on a Craftsman 18 1/2 horsepower, six-speed riding Foxmobile lawnmower. Candy apple red and with black trim. All I had to do was gas 'er up and rev my 18 1/2 horses alongside my neighbors. Easier said than done!

The first problem I encountered was where to put the gas. I know it goes into the gas tank, but, where, oh, where, is that gas tank? I thumbed through the manual. If you know me, you know I'm about the least mechanical guy on the street. Okay, least mechanical guy in Plattsburgh ... or the county. But I had good intentions: cut that knee-high grass down to neighborhood-acceptable length. The technical writing failed to inform me of the whereabouts of the gas tank. I checked under the hood. I looked my Craftsman over from side-to-side. No gas tank. I looked at all the pictures in the manual. No picture of a gas tank.

Twenty minutes later I found it. It's always the last place you look! Why in the world would they put the gas tank under the seat? Under the very spot where I sit! If anything goes wrong I could be blasted over to Crescent Drive. Craftsman should know better!

Gas tank filled I was ready to pull out of my garage and head onto my shaggy front lawn. I followed the step-by-step procedures in the manual. Ten minutes later I was ready to move forward, and did so, bolting out of my garage, heading directly towards a head-on collision with my car parked in the driveway. Only a last-second stomp on the brakes saved me from an embarrassing front-page story in the Press Republican. I'm sure no one ever before has been killed by crashing a lawnmower head-on into their own car!

Slowly I moved all the levers to the proper positions and was on my way to my front lawn. Motor purring, blades engaged and cutting, gear shifted to #1, then #2. Oh, my, that's fast enough! I can't imagine how fast it will go when I work my way up to #6. I was driving my first lawnmower. Moving at a safe pace, waiting for someone to drive by and see me. My baseball cap was bouncing, I was smiling and the lawn was finally going to be like my neighbors' lawns. All 18 1/2 horses were happy!

It's quite a machine, a long leap from the days of 48 Johnson Avenue and the old wooden-handled push mower that Dad had. You never ran out of gas with that one. Maybe run out of manpower, but not gas. You would watch the blades of grass go flying through the metal blades. I never liked mowing the lawn and would always try to pawn it off on my brother.

I think the neighbors are happy I've got a riding lawnmower. I think they are hoping that Foxy will finally keep his lawn neat. I'm not promising that, but I am intriqued by this 18 1/2 horsepower machine I sit on. I wonder how fast this baby can go! Is it legal to drive it on city streets? I don't know how many horses my neighbors have, but I think my 18 1/2 might be the best stable on the block. I'm thinking that by the end of summer we might be ready for the First Annual Saratoga Court Lawnmower Races. I've got 18 1/2 horses ready to go!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 4:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Every once in awhile, thanks to responses from readers and to clear out miscellaneous notes around my computer, a blog such as follows seems in order:

(1) With a record-number of comments about local drinking establishments, a few people around town reminded me of Dallas, a bar on the outskirts of town, just before you get to Cliff Haven. I went there a few times to see Pat Maynard and also recall her son Mickey serving up drinks as well. That building is now the home for the beautiful girls of Diamond Dolls.

(2) Since baseball season began I have discovered another benefit of retirement. I get to watch the afternoon antics of "Mike and the Mad Dog" on the YES Network. Although I don't agree with everything they say, they are entertaining and opinionated.

(3) Speaking of baseball, everyone in the baseball world, especially Yankee fans, are scratching their heads about the poor pitching of Randy Johnson. Many announcers, including Michael Kay, who probably never even played Little League baseball, have tried to analyze why Randy is no longer dandy. Right in front of their faces, and no one has even mentioned it yet, is one of the best pitching coaches in baseball over the past ten years. I don't mean Yankees' pitching coach Ron Guidry. This is his first big league pitching coach job. I mean Joe Kerrigan, the Yankees' bullpen coach. Kerrigan has been a pitching coach with the Montreal Expos, Boston Red Sox and Philadelphia Phillies and is highly regarded for his ability to turn around or jumpstart pitchers' careers. I wonder if he has been involved in helping Johnson through his first-ever pitching crisis.

(4) Do you like pickles? Did you know that New York State hosts a pickle festival? I'm going! I love pickles! My favorites are dills, but I can enjoy bread-and-butters and sweet gherkins just as well. The International Pickle Festival is in Rosedale, not far from Newburg, in November. Hopefully a "Fox on the Run" show will be made. But I'm not entering the pickle-juice-drinking contest!

(5) I heard from Tom & Carol Rennell, who read my blog "Freddie Garrity" about the lead singer of Freddie & the Dreamers. Garrity recently passed away, and in the blog I mentioned several singing groups from the same time period. While visiting Disney World recently Tom & Carol saw Paul Revere & the Raiders! Paul is the only one of the original group left. He's 69 years old, but looks much younger, as proven by two pictures that Tom e-mailed me. Tom and Carol look pretty young themselves! Tom, my old Army Reserves sidekick, recently retired, so I'll be seeing him in stores, giving the nod of "The Brotherhood of Old Guys" (see On the Sly blog, April 17).

(6) My bout with Bell's Palsy has been frustrating, but it has given me the opportunity to admire all the more the courage and determination of someone who has overcome a stroke or other serious problems. While Bell's Palsy is a temporary ailment, usually with no long-term after-effects, a stroke victim can expect months, sometimes years, of therapy and treatments before full recovery. It was two weeks ago that I woke up with numbness on the left side of my face and within 24 hours I could not move my forehead, eyebrows, mouth, etc. on the left side. This morning I have partial, about 75%, movement and I am looking forward to eventually getting my mouth around a nice submarine sandwich or hamburger for lunch. Thanks to all those who expressed concern. In another week or so, I'll be back to normal and you won't be able to shut me up!

If you have an idea for a future blog make a comment immediately following this blog or send me an e-mail at foxman@westelcom.com. Have a pleasant and safe Memorial Weekend.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 7:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

There weren't any headlines about this last week. I didn't even notice a small clip in any of the newspapers I perused over the weekend. But last Friday Freddie Garrity died. You may have known him without even realizing it.

Freddie was the frontman for the British rock group Freddie & the Dreamers. I first saw him on some black-and-white television screen, maybe on "Shindig" or "American Bandstand" or "Hullabaloo." Following the historic musical British invasion of the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, several groups coat-tailed their way across the ocean for some American gigs, and, better, some American money. At a time when I was fighting pimples and wishing for stardom, I used my extra allowance money to buy 45s of all the invasion groups, like Herman's Hermits, Gerry & the Pacemakers, the Dave Clark 5 and, yes, even, Freddie & the Dreamers.

Standing at just 5 feet, 3 inches, Freddie's gimmick was to flail his arms and legs as he sang his tunes, backed by his Dreamers. It was absolutely ridiculous, made absolutely no sense, but that was his gimmick, giving his a few years of concerts around the United Kingdom and the United States, and appearances on even "The Ed Sullivan Show."

You might recall the two biggest hits by Freddie & the Dreamers: "I'm Telling You Now" and "You Were Made for Me." Their greatest popularity was from May 1963 through November 1965. For most of us the 45s were thrown out years ago and the memories of Freddie & the Dreamers were buried by our more sophisticated musical tastes as we grew into the late Sixties and adulthood in the Seventies.

But Freddie Garrity was a little piece of our teenage years, our teenage memories. At the age of 69, Freddie Garrity passed away, without headlines or CNN news reports. Some of us still remember.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 12:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

My mention of a few "Fox Hill" bars in the 1960s (see "Drinks Are On Me") stirred up quite a discussion of places around Plattsburgh in those days or earlier where a fellow could sit for good conversation and a few cold ones.

My friend Sal Righi reminded me the other day about Johnny Bell's, also on Fox Hill. That was another nice little place, right in the middle of a quiet residential area, where the conversation and jukebox could get loud. I ate my first pepperoncinis there. You know, those hot little green peppers with the little seeds and juice in the middle. I got hooked on those babies! I still recall Gordie Coryea was sitting next to me at the bar, telling me how good they were. I tried one and that was all it took. In fact, in my refrigerator right now is a jar of pepperoncinis.

Sal also mentioned the Brass Rail, the Sit and Spit and the Flame, places that might have been before my time. And then there was the Yacht Club, down on the water. How many of us packed that place after a softball game or meeting on a summer's night? Who owned the Yacht Club? Who served up the brews?

My mention of the Korina got me thinking more about how many different owners that business had. An older couple ran it during the Sixties and then, for a time, I recall a couple of guys (was it Bob & Ed?) who ran the K. Didn't Terry and Pete Polhemus own it for awhile? I'm pretty sure it ended up in the hands of Herbie Rock, who spiced things up a bit, and then, alas, the Korina closed its doors about ten years ago, perhaps.

Both Mike Mannix and The Old-Timer reminded us of the Knight's Tavern, and Mike added the Chanteclair. Never heard of either of those spots.

My brother Goose liked to sip a few at the Depot, and I can recall joining him there, probably during the Seventies. It was at the Howard Johnson's on Route 9, near Cumberland Head Corners. Nice quiet atmosphere with tables and sometimes a musician would sing tunes. I remember that several Friday nights when I went Mike McCaffrey was entertaining the patrons.

Goose also asked about the bar at the mall when Pyramid Mall first opened. Leave it to former local musician Randy Vaughn to remember that one! I thought for a long time, but couldn't come up with the name, but Randy remembered that it was Lentzo's.

It seems that all these places brought good times, not so much for overindulgence of alcohol, but for the friendship and conversation you knew you'd find. There would always be a funny story, somebody willing to make a bet, and somebody with the answers to all the world's problems.

That's what still makes places like Meron's, the Fourth Ward, the Store and Fitzpatrick's special today. Almost makes me want to tip a cold one right now!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 2:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

Fellow bloggers:

I have been ill with Bell's Palsy and it has really taken me out of circulation. Plus, this weekend a few other medical issues have kept me away from my computer.

Please check ON THE SLY on Tuesday, May 23 for a new blog! Thank you for your patience!

Foxy

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 7:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Thanks to people like Hector and family over at the Fourth Ward and Bobby and Bev over at Bobby's Lounge, and Grace and Jim at Meron's, the neighborhood bar is alive and well. And is there any of us "Fox Hillers" who didn't tell our wives, "Honey, I'll be right back. I'm going to THE STORE." Oh, no wonder John Ryan's place was always such a happy spot. The number of comfortable neighborhood bars has dwindled from the Sixties when they polka-dotted the city, providing places where you could find a familiar face and a cold brew.

Not to be confused with the popular restaurant-bar combos around town that can serve up steaks, chops and full dinners, the neighborhood bar is more important for the clientele than for the brews or snacks. It's the type of place where it's likely someone will greet you when you come through the door. According to Norm on "Cheers," it was a "home away from home."

Growing up on the south end of town, and with the drinking age at 18 in those days, it was mandatory that a young guy sample the various bars when he reached drinking age. To finally be able to pass through the front door instead of gaze through the front window was a sort of right of passage to manhood. The first bar I legally drank in was the Korina on Elizabeth Street. That's where I spent the night of my eighteenth birthday, with my buddies making sure my throat didn't get dry.

Right around the corner from "the K," the Store was always a good place for a nightcap. Don't be misled by the two-car parking spots in the front. There's plenty of parking in the back! And, even though the place looks tiny from the outside, it's surprisingly roomy inside. And what's with that amazing tree carving in the front yard? What year was that completed and by whom?

During the following weeks I strolled with some friends to Charlie Thompson's Sixth Ward, located where the Durocher Auto Sales car lot has extended. I remember that I tried a little tomato juice mixed in with my Black Label beer at the suggestion of an old-timer on my right. The Sixth Ward had a small wooden bar, seating maybe ten people, and, to this 18-year-old, all the customers looked like they were retired and needed a shave.

Then there was Branson's, usually a lively place with airmen of all ages, some in uniform, some not, located on U.S. Avenue. I didn't go there often, but it was always a friendly place. I'm not sure how many "locals" frequented Branson's.

All three bars were well-stocked with the usual snacks: pickled sausages, pickled eggs, beer nuts, and I'm sure that's how I shaped my habit of munching when drinking. And, if there was room, there'd be the bowling game -- remember sliding that metal disk along the wooden alley to send those plastic pins upwards? Some of us spent hours playing that game, secretly winning or losing money, or digging in our pockets for crumpled dollar bills because "I lost -- drinks are on me!"

The Korina looks to be someone's home now, and, as mentioned, the Sixth Ward gave way to a parking lot. Branson's re-opened years ago as The Louisville Slugger, Joe Proctor's place. I loved it there, renewing my high school friendship with Joe. But in the past years, though the building still stands, the tavern lights have been off. I always look, though, whenever I drive by, just in case.

As legendary as it is, I never made it to the Fourth Ward till I was well into my twenties. Same for Bernie's Lounge on South Catherine Street. That's where I met fellow Dodger fan, Jack Gerry. And Bernie. Now that site is Bobby's Lounge, an addition has been added at the back, and their great lunches have already been documented in a previous blog.

I'm not trying to say that I drank a lot in those days, but during my college years, I preferred the neighborhood bar to the bigger bars downtown. In fact, I still do! What other neighborhood bars dotted our city in the Fifties and Sixties?

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 4:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (13)

The last year and a half of my life has been an incredible time for change. One truly never knows from one day to the next what the next 24 hours will bring. Sunday, Mother's Day, was no different.

As the host on Mother's Day the dining room table at the "Fox Den" was full. The ham was great, I managed to offer a choice of "real" mashed potatoes and "instant" mashed potatoes, niece Erin provided more than enough corn, and Goose's cabbage salad was better than ever, drawing rave reviews from all. My sister Darlene's homemade strawberry cream cake was the highlight of the day. Meanwhile, the guest of honor, Mom, enjoyed being surrounded by her children and family.

On a sadder note, I had difficulty enjoying the meal and the banter around the table. When I woke up on Saturday morning the left side of my face felt funny, tingly, and I noticed a problem chewing food and drinking throughout Saturday. By the time Sunday had rolled around the entire left side of my face was numb. Oh, I managed to eat ham and potatoes (choosing the instant ones, of course!) and I really loaded up on the cabbage salad. But I faced several warnings from my family to "get that checked out, Foxy!"

So, with the meal concluded and the dessert enjoyed, the family made a premature departure so that I could go to the CVPH emergency room. And that's what I did. The place was busy. I was in no hurry, anyway. After Chris Swiesz, former star athlete at Seton Catholic Central, initially took my vitals and interviewed me, he offered me a comfortable seat in the waiting area.

And wait, I did. Two hours. Oh, well, Lily's kitty dish was full of savory salmon delight, so I knew she would be content in my absence. I usually bring my own reading material in these cases, but in my haste to get my frozen face checked out I had left my Rolling Stone and ESPN the Magazine on my living room couch. After reading the Sunday edition of the Press-Republican three times, I decided to take a nap in the waiting area.

At 4:30pm I heard my name, and it was my opportunity to further wait, but the waiting area would be in a room by myself, and a bed was now provided. Perhaps the others in the public waiting room had complained about my snoring. Nevertheless, I was closer to seeing some emergency personnel. Michelle and Kevin immediately spoke with me, took my vitals again and asked how I was doing. From the right side of my mouth I muttered, "Okay."

Michelle provided me with a pillow and some reading material. Unfortunately, the only magazines available were two copies of Prevention Magazine. Every article seemed to be aimed at me. "5 Ways to Lose Weight in a Month" and "Do You Get Enough Exercise" and "Watch Those Late-Night Snacks" stared at me from the magazine covers. I swear that one article was titled "Don't Eat Too Much Cabbage Salad on Mother's Day" and another was titled "Ham Dinners Can Cause Your Face to Tingle."

From my vantage point I could tell how busy the emergency room was. No nurses were standing around reading Prevention Magazine articles. They were scurrying from one place to the next. EMTs from around Clinton County passed by my doorway, bringing patients with more serious problems than the guy in Room 16 who can't raise his left eyebrow or move the left side of his lip.

So I waited. At 5:45 a doctor approached. He was a guy who even looked like a doctor. He asked me questions and pushed and probed around my face. He had me do leg exercises, face exercises, hand exercises, all in an effort, I assume, to diagnose the problem. I took an immediate liking to Dr. Klaudt. He kept me informed while checking out my eyes, ears and throat. He mentioned that, given my history, he wanted to rule out heart problems and rule out a stroke. So, he ordered a blood test and a CAT scan.

Dr. Klaudt's initial diagnosis was that I had Bell's Palsy. My first concern was, "Can you fix it?" He assured me that this was something that was temporary. I immediately started thinking of the ham dinner leftovers that Theresa and Darlene had left in my refrigerator.

So, Kevin drew blood and gave me a NASCAR-like ride to get a CAT scan. By 7pm I was back in Room 16, waiting for the results of the test. Overall I felt fine, a lot better than the guy who was in the hallway and couldn't even move due to a bad back. I felt my departure was within the hour. Get the results, get the diagnosis and get out the door. I took off my funny gown which showed my rear end, and got my clothes back on. I strolled into the hallway, watching the staff carry out their tasks. There must have been twenty or more people busy in one fashion or another. Michelle checked on me and I said I was doing fine and i think I mentioned something about "ham dinner leftovers."

A library of medical books stood just outside my room. Manuals, textbooks, binders, all with the suitable long medical word titles. One, however, caught my attention. It was a binder called "Blood Transfusion: Step by Step." I couldn't help but wonder why someone would write such a book. If someone is giving me a blood transfusion, the last thing I want is them holding a book and checking, "Okay, what's the next step?" When was the last time someone read that book at CVPH, I wondered.

At 7:45pm Kevin told me that the results of the blood test and CAT scan had arrived. Standing in the doorway I could tell the busy pace of Mother's Day emergencies hadn't slowed down. City Fire Department EMTs King and St. Dennis arrived with a patient who was surely in her nineties. In fact, the staff asked me to vacate my room and sit in the hallway so that this patient could have a room. No problem! I placed the chair in the hallway closer to the exit door.

Finally Dr. Klaudt returned with the final diagnosis, Bell's Palsy. With medication I should start to feel better in a week to two weeks. Usually no long-term effects. No cause for it, so I can't blame it on the hot wings I had on Friday night, nor the cabbage salad on Sunday. Follow up with my family doctor. I thanked Dr. Klaudt for his expertise. I was happy I didn't need a blood transfusion.

Kenny, one of the busy CVPH staff, brought me some medication to take immediately. I was now just several feet from the exit door. A former student, Mary, now a CVPH nurse, kept scurrying by me. The staff would stay. Michelle still had almost four hours left for her shift, as I left at 8:30pm.

Some would say that six hours was too long . Not me! I was treated great, the staff was busy, and it is amazing how many people go to the emergency room with various afflictions, even some imagined. So, frozen half-face and all, I took my Bell's Palsy home.

Now, on Tuesday, I'm still not able to purse my lips properly or lift my left eyebrow, but I'm trusting that my bout with Bell's Palsy will end soon. Hey, I'm just happy to be alive. CVPH, great job! Six hours in a lifetime is nothing. And today for lunch I'll be enjoying a ham sandwich and some of that great cabbage salad that Goose left behind!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 5:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (11)

Happy Mother's Day!

We can set up a great tribute to our Moms if each us just blogs the name of our Mom and/or something about her.

My Mom is Viola Gagnon, now 84 years old in Plattsburgh, New York.

Who is your Mom?

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 11:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Yes, indeed, it is springtime in the North Country. If you need proof, just look out the window. Rain! Rain! Yes, the grass is green and, yes, it was a mild winter. But springtime in the North Country, which can range from early March until mid-June, will never change. It will rain! That's a given. Umbrellas are a must in the North Country. Or hats. I remember walking to Monty Street School in my black galoshes and yellow raincoat. Day after day. I learned early what spring is like in the North Country.

Just at the point when you decide that tomorrow will be "mow-the-lawn-day," you can bet it will rain. If you are coaching a spring sport or trying to have Little League baseball practice, you know that you will end the day with a soaked sweatshirt and smell musty from sweat and raindrops.

One of the reasons I quit ("retired from" would be a milder phrase) coaching junior varsity baseball at Plattsburgh High School was because I couldn't stand baseball practice inside a gymnasium anymore. You can set up drill stations, hit a tennis ball or wiffle ball, talk about baseball strategy, practice bunting, but nothing matches being outside in the sunshine playing baseball.

It will probably be late June before we hit our North Country summer weather, when you can take a romantic walk along the Saranac River (what? that's not romantic?) or watch your ice cream cone melt before you can eat it or sit in the backyard and sunbathe (okay, now the word's out about the sights on Saratoga Court!) or take a drive around Cumberland Head with the windows down at eleven o'clock at night.

For now, I'm keeping out of the raindrops, selling lots on eBay and watching "Mike & the Mad Dog" every afternoon. Raindrops won't be falling on my head!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 2:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

With Mother's Day on Sunday the Gagnon family is scurrying around to make plans for our Mother's Day family dinner. Frankly, this event is getting more attention in our family than Barry Bonds' quest to outslug the Babe and more attention than the Yankees-Red Sox series.

In fact, last night the phone lines were humming with calls among siblings and phone call updates to Mom. It didn't matter to us that Barry almost hit home run number 714 (Way to go, Juan Pierre!). It didn't matter (that much) to us that the Red Sox were pounding the Big Unit and winning by 11 runs. What mattered was that we'd be treating Mom to a home-cooked meal on Mother's Day.

The site: Foxy's Den at Saratoga Court. The menu: ham by Fox (easy to prepare) (without cloves, without pineapples -- give me the plain old taste of baked ham!), potatoes (instant, of course! -- don't tell Mom, and I know my two grandmothers will be frowning down from heaven), cabbage salad (Goose's family speciality -- he could market it!) (we suspect that Theresa and Ashley help him make it), corn (niece Erin's responsibility), and dessert by Dar (one of her many baked treats, we assume, but always a nice surprise!). Nothing real fancy, just a nice home-cooked meal for Mom, prepared by her kids.

The conversation will be lively, the memories will be touching, and Sunday will be a special day for Mom, surrounded by as many in her family that can attend. It's a family tradition, and one that started generations ago. Growing up it was a tradition that on the day before Mother's Day we would get into Dad's Pontiac (first a Star Chief, and then, years later, a Bonneville) and drive to Rouses Point to see Dad's Mom ("Miner," we called her). It was a true family event with stories shared, past events revisited and great food, usually topped off with a bowl of popcorn before bedtime.

Then it would be Mother's Day Sunday mass at St. Patrick's Church in Rouses Point, with Miner wearing some flowery hat, often blue to match her eyes. She'd walk up the aisle arm-in-arm with Poppa, my Grandpa Gagnon, in front of the rest of us Gagnons.

After church we would drive across the border into Canada to Lacolle, to visit my Mom's Mom and Dad, Grandpa and Grandma Jock. Grandma would be wearing her apron, cooking up another great meal. Before we took our first bites we would say grace, thanking God for family and especially for our Moms. I always knew my parents were proud of their Moms. Neither of them ever said it, but you could just tell by watching how they treated them with respect and love, even though my parents were in their forties, and then in their fifties.

We Gagnons know we've been fortunate. Mom is now 84 years old. Sunday will be my 56th Mother's Day, although, admittedly, I don't remember the first several. I was born less than a month after what would have been my first Mother's Day. Mom is still as feisty as ever, loves her daily Press-Republican crossword puzzle, and will tell anyone who will listen that Derek Jeter is the best and most handsome baseball player ever. She even has his picture on the wall near her computer. Mom is still quick to give advice to her children (even though one isn't too far away from being 60!) and is always more generous than she needs to be. She still makes the greatest soup in the county and if she ever opened Vi's Chop Suey Hut, she would put the other Chinese restaurants out of business.

So, for this week, we don't care about Barry Bonds or the Yankees and Red Sox showdown in Yankee Stadium. We have other things to do, like vacuum Foxy's Den and clean the oven and organize the mountain of papers on the dining room table. And we've got cabbages to buy! And we've got more reminder phone calls to make so that everything goes smoothly on Mother's Day, an important day in the Gagnon Family.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 11:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Did you ever see that scene from the "I Love Lucy" series when Lucy, Ricky, Fred and Ethel are stranded in a cabin during an avalanche and Lucy has the only food, a part of a cheese sandwich? Lucy tries to eat her sandwich without making any noise, because any slight sound will get the attention of the others. Well, that's how I felt most of Saturday.

You see, I was asked by Jim Tyler to videotape the "Battle in the Burgh" on Saturday. It was the bodybuilding and fitness show held at the former Seton Catholic building, or, for us old-timers, at the former Mount Assumption Institute.

Anyway, part of my usual preparation for any videotaping job that will keep me away from the refrigerator for hours includes stuffing my pockets with "goodies," such as hard candy, chewy candy, beef jerky bits, and even a cheese sandwich. As I entered the competition area, it was obvious to me right away that I was going to stick out like a bear at a picnic.

All these muscular competitors had been dieting for months, following a strict regiment of protein foods, keeping journals on calories, carbs and protein intake. They'd spent countless hours pumping, posing, flexing, oiling and shaping. They'd sacrificed, worked out and eaten more chicken and broccoli in the last four months than I had in my lifetime. And there I stood with my pockets stuffed with candy bars.

An hour into the competition I started thinking of those creme savers and sweet tarts in my pockets. Oh so quietly, I went to work, trying to unwrap a few without catching anyone's attention. I have to admit I felt plenty guilty reaching for a Baby Ruth, knowing all the sacrifices these men and women had made to enable them to stand on that stage and flex.

By the end of the show, after about six hours of videotaping, my pockets were almost empty, and I was thinking of pizza or, at least, those new salt-and-pepper potato chips I've discovered. One of the competitors, a longtime acquaintance, passed by me on the way out and asked, "Are we going to see you on stage next year, Foxy?"

A seed had been planted. Just think, Foxy up on stage, head shaved, tanned and oiled. His waist ten inches less and his shoulders rippling. Foxy showing his biceps, triceps and quads to an enthusiastic audience. Frankly, I never knew that biceps and triceps and quads were supposed to look like that!

Yes, Foxy on stage wearing those tight little shorts and --- "Nah, I don't think so," I told him. "I like chicken, but it's all that broccoli I'd have a problem with."

In truth, I left with a new-found admiration for the men and women who dedicate themselves to bodybuilding and fitness. It becomes a passion and takes so much willpower, determination and sacrifice. Congratutions to all the competitors for putting on a great show. Congratulations to Jim Tyler for offering the community such a well-organized event. And my sincere thoughts have nothing to do with the great chocolate-covered brownies that were sold at the Bake Sale in the lobby!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 7:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Does the name Eddie Feigner ring a bell? How about the King & HIs Court? Eddie Feigner, now 81, is the greatest softball player who ever lived. No one will ever top the exploits of the wizard of the softball diamond. Playing with just four players, including pitcher Eddie Feigner, the King and His Court regularly beat nine-men softball teams. It really didn't matter how many players the other team put on the field, because seldom did anyone hit an Eddie Feigner pitch.

To the best of my knowledge, the last time that the "King of Softball" was in the North Country was 1977. The first time I saw the King & His Court show in person was 1966. On that night at the old Bailey Avenue ballfield, with the grandstand filled to capacity, Feigner and his three teammates, Jim Herrick (catcher and comedy star), Wayne McGill (shortstop), and Al Jackson (first baseman), beat a group of North Country softball stars. In 1977 Al Jackson was still playing first base, but Gary West was the shortstop and comedy star and Feigner's son J.R. was the catcher.

I was never offered the opportunity to bat against Feigner, although that would have been a dream come true. I saw him pitch in Plattsburgh three times, and I was well aware of his pitching prowess. If you have ever seen the King & His Court show, you know that Feigner would sometimes pitch from second base, sometimes pitch blindfolded, sometimes fire pitches from behind his back, and still strikes out batters.

Feigner didn't only face ex-high school stars when he toured around the country. Sometimes he faced major leaguers. In an exhibition softball game in the Sixties, Feigner struck out major leaguers Willie Mays, Maury Wills, Harmon Killebrew, Brooks Robinson, Willie McCovey and Roberto Clemente -- all in a row! In his career he threw over 900 no-hitters, sporting a blazing softball fastball at over 100 miles an hour!

Fellow blogger "W" passed along some information about a recent press conference Feigner held to announce that a feature film will be made about his life. Powerhouse Films, the production company, will base the movie on Feigner's 2004 autobiography, FROM AN ORPHAN TO A KING.

The contract that Feigner signed also includes a reality television series which will feature tryouts for the King and his Court team. I'd encourage some of our own North Country softball heroes to watch for this opportunity. I'd recommend guys like Benny Haley, Harry Frenyea, Bobby "the Boomer" Brown, Dan Phillips, Glenn "Big Red" Petrashune, Mike Hoff, Craig King, Roy Ebersole, Steve Criss or Neil Stevens to give this a try. Or maybe some of the guys from the Norm Baker - American Legion team, like Gary Manning, Scott Baker and Jim Knight. And maybe our own pitching whiz in the North Country, Doug Stevens, can take over on the mound for "the King" himself. If you want guys who could probably break up an Eddie Feigner no-hitter, I say send Alan Rock, Bob McCorry or Steve Liberty to the plate.

In his 61st year of touring, Feigner is now the show's emcee. He retired from the mound in 1998. His current tour schedule puts him in Orange, Connecticutt on June 2 and South Windsor, Connecticutt on June 3. The King & His Court show will be in Lynn, Massachusetts on June 9 and in New Jersey in early July. For more information about the King & HIs Court, his website is www.kingandhiscourt.com.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 10:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (25)

During the 1999-2000 school year at Stafford Middle School, my teaching partner Chris Hartmann and I assigned a project called "The Millennium Time Capsule." Each of our eighth-grade students was required to write an essay predicting what they would be doing in five years. They also chose some personal items that were important to them at the time, maybe photos of best friends, or a journal, or notes from friends.

Each student was given a large envelope, and they placed their essay and personal items inside. Then, in an elaborate ceremony on one fine day at SMS, the students, one by one, placed their envelope inside a large trunk. The trunk was wrapped in a big chain, padlocked, and carried to the bowels of SMS for safekeeping for five years.

The opening of the time capsule was originally planned for last July, but had to be cancelled due to summer repairs at SMS. Finally, one year late, the date is approaching for the opening of the time capsule. Soon students from the Gagnon-Hartmann classes of 1999-2000, the Millennium Class, will open the time capsule and the items placed inside will be returned.

It should be a nice reunion, comparing notes from six years ago and finding out what we are all doing. Six years later Chris Hartmann has settled in as an excellent social studies teacher at SMS, no longer sharing a classroom with the Old Fox. Since putting his envelope into the Time Capsule, he has gotten married, and he has been appointed varsity boys' basketball coach at Plattsburgh High School.

Six years later, as predicted in my Time Capsule essay, I am retired from teaching, and I've had a few changes in my personal life. Six years later, my hair is longer (in the back, at least), my son has gotten married (to the sister of one of the Millenium Class students!), and I have some new friends who brighten my days.

The students listed below participated in the Gagnon-Hartmann Time Capsule project. Please help spread the word that we will meet on Saturday, June 10th at noon at Stafford Middle School to open the Millennium Time Capsule. The agenda for the day:

12-12:30pm - Registration in the SMS cafeteria
12:30-1pm - Tour of the recent SMS addition
1-2pm - Opening of the Time Capsule in the new SMS Auditorium
2-3pm - Refreshments in the SMS cafeteria

The following students are listed for the 1999-2000 class. Any additions would be appreciated.

Patrick Akey, Katrina Ales, Katrina Appleby, Matt Baker, Klaus Baumgarten, Kim Bezio, Patrick Boivin, Cathy Boyd, Kristi Brodeur, Kate Broderick, Braden Brown, Corey Brown, Gabe Calvelo, Chris Cantrell, Julius Chagnon, Maureen Coonrod, Vanessa Dann, Veronica Davies, Alicia Delaronde, Mike Dobson, Becky Drollette, Cortney Drown, Jennifer Dwyer, Steve Esposito, John Gaeddert, Ross Garcia, Jason Garrand, Jamie Garrow, Monique Gay, Matt Glode, Kylie Goodell, Jenna Griffin, Damien Grom, Steve Hanley, Derek Harms, Elisa Heffernan, Justine Higgins, Amber Hill, Shane Hubbell, Ashley Kirkpatrick, Kerry Kivett, Elijah LaForge, Anthony Lamkins, Carrie Latour, Chantelle Latour, Anthony Lee, Dan Lefebvre, Stephanie Light, Kenna Luguri, Ryan Lynch, Shane Manion, Carl Mansfield, Mindy Marsh, Billy Mayette, Megan Mazurak, Michelle McCune, Kyle Meron, Jeff Meyer, Emily Montbriand, Matt Montroy, Kevin Murnane, Derek Murphy, Donald Olsen, Kylie Parker, Jaime Payson, Matt Pearce, Kataleigh Pivetta, Corey Prophitt, Tara Reiblein, Chad Reil, Elizabeth Rock, Scott Rougeau, Sean Ryan, Isaac Sandwick, Jeff Seeber, Serica Serrano, Sherri Sotak, Claire Stockman, Joey Stone, Andrea Tetreault, Sean Tobin, Elizabeth Tregan, Mike Waldron, Ashley Wallace, Danielle Wieneke

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 6:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)