On The Sly

The summer has raced by, and, if you don't think so, just ask any school teacher how quickly it went. The night air and earlier onset of darkness tell me that football-season weather is right around the corner.

But August was a busy month and before it ends there are a few items that need one last comment. August 2007 marked the return of Peter Pan peanut butter to our shelves. I received three phone calls this week from friends to let me know the good news. I had already discovered it last week by accident while bargain shopping at Yando's Big M in Skyway Plaza.

I reached for a jar of the best substitute I could find, The Peanuts Kids brand, and then glanced left. There were the familiar colors of yellow and red and the words "Peter Pan" in white. "NEW LOOK! GREAT TASTE" shouted at me from the label. I returned the substitute to the shelf and grabbed my Peter Pan!

I shouted, "Yes" out loud and didn't care who heard me. I held the jar over my head in victory. My shopping day was over. I headed home for the best peanut butter sandwich I'd tasted in almost a year.

We all have those moments in history that we always remember where we were when it happened. I'll always remember Yando's Big M and the return of Peter Pan to my kitchen counter.

Another serious event in August 2007 was when I asked the blogoteers for advice on any of five items that I was interested in purchasing. Sincere thanks to all who shared their opinions, both on the blog and on the street. I have listened carefully, already purchased a crosscut paper shredder and will be deciding on the right big screen tv for me during the month of September.

August was also memorable because I met blogoteer and Montcalmer Fred Forkey. We met for the first time one Saturday at Meron's at what we thought would be a Montcalmers Reunion. That never materialized, but Fred and I had plenty to talk about. One of the first things he said to me was, "Foxy, I thought you were taller. Your picture at On the Sly made me think you were taller."

That's interesting, because I thought Fred was shorter. For some reason from reading his blogs, I thought he was shorter. But he's long and lean. No matter, we still got along great and had plenty of reminiscing to do.

New York Yankees' fans will always remember August 2007 as the major league debut of future Hall of Famer Joba Chamberlain. Yankee announcer John Sterling has already christened him as one of the greatest pitchers in Yankees history. Tonight he and his partner Susan referred to the "Legend of Joba Chamberlain." Quite a claim for a guy who has pitched nine innings of big league baseball.

What surprises me more, however, is that since Joba is a full-fledged Native American no one has compared him to former Yankees' great Allie Reynolds, who was nicknamed "Chief" because of his Native American heritage. I think they've missed the boat on this one.

And, finally, our own city councilor Bill Provost has made August 2007 memorable thanks to his creative campaign poster letting people know that he has "cojones." That's information overload, in my opinion. It's not something I had ever wondered about.

But I've known Bill since way back when he was known as "Billy." He has always been one to test the limit, push the envelope, stretch the rule and then coyly look the other way. He's a good judge of where that invisible line is between right and wrong. But when you do that you run the risk of offending some people. In the interest of freedom of speech I guess Bill can say or write almost anything he wants. It's the voters in Ward 6 who will decide his fate.

I had a great August 2007. Hey, maybe it doesn't show but I even lost ten pounds! Apples and corn on the cob are great replacements for my usual popcorn-soda snack and instant mashed potatoes swimming in butter. But, indeed, August went by way too quickly.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 9:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (11)

Since their first televsion show in 1976, I have been a fan of "Austin City Limits." They often have prominent musical artists, but they also have presented lesser-known future stars. That's how I came across Amos Lee last year. He was on "Austin City Limits."

Well, believe it or not, one of our local musicians is on the rise, and he has a connection with "Austin City Limits." Kelly Miller was an outstanding athlete at Plattsburgh High School not so long ago, but apparantly he had his goals set on the stage rather than the playing field. I remember he had a starring role in one of the PHS Drama Club's presentations.

But I never expected his singing talent to take him this far. Miller, the son of Calvin and Kathy Miller of Plattsburgh, is one of a talented band called Middle Ground. The group recently performed at Plattsburgh's abbreviated Mayor's Cup Celebration. Middle Ground is now among twenty semi-finalists nationwide in Austin City Limits' Battle of the Bands.

Fan voting will determine the winner and you can play a role in Middle Ground's quest to win the contest. At the Austin City Limits' website you can get all the information you need. Better yet, you can go directly to the Middle Ground page and listen to their music and cast your vote for the Texas band with the Plattsburgh connection.

I think you'll find their music pretty unique. The music reminds me of some of Bob Dylan's electric stuff, and the lyrics remind me of a 2007 version of Harry Chapin. You can judge for yourself.

The link is: http://acl.mp3.com/feature/soundandjury/?band=MIDDLE-GROUND

That link brings you right to the voting site, and it's very easy. Right now Middle Ground is in fourteenth place out of the twenty semi-finalists. The contest started out with 800 bands, and Middle Ground has survived as one of the top twenty!

Miller is lead singer and songwriter. His colleagues are Emanuel Meza, Ross Renker, Sophie Severance and Josh Roberts. They are based in San Antonio, Texas. A long way from home for a Plattsburgh kid and former videographer for North Country Cable Network.

You can vote once a day at the website, and Kelly and his friends deserve our support.
I hope you'll give Middle Ground a listen. That guy singing lead is the one and only Kelly Miller. It's Miller time -- for the Austin City Limits stage!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 10:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

What with the price of gas hovering around the $3 a gallon mark, I guess for the past few days I was subconsciously trying to save money and just not buy anymore gas for the rest of my life.

I found out yesterday that that doesn't work. I was having a great morning, sun shining brightly, out early running errands around the city and town of Plattsburgh, when I ran out of gas. I had just made a trip to Banker Orchards, one of my favorite spots this time of year. I bought some made-this-morning doughnuts and a cold bottle of root beer and picked up a sack of Paula Reds as well.

I headed for my next stop in the city. As I turned onto the Tom Miller Road my car started chugging. I didn't have to think twice about the problem. I'd been listening to that darn bell go off for two days, warning me that my gas tank was low. I had been looking at a yellow warning light near my gas gauge for two days, warning me that my gas tank was low.

But I guess I had too many things on my mind. Or, I was subconsciously trying to avoid spending $30 for a tank of gas. As my car coasted to a stop near Patriot Drive I knew that it was time to buy some gas.

So much for my great day! Knowing that this was entirely my fault and knowing that my wallet contained a AAA Plus card, I remained calm. I strolled to the nearest house, only about 30 seconds away. I rang the doorbell. A man a few years my senior came to the door.

"Hi, I'm Foxy Gagnon and my car ran out of gas in front of your house," I smiled.

"Oh, come in, Foxy. I know you," he laughed. "I watch all your tv shows." Well, that counts for something! At least he didn't suspect that I was the Tom Miller Road Strangler. The man was friendly and handed me a portable phone while pointing me to a chair.

I called AAA Northway. Within minutes I was promised that gas would "arrive within thirty minutes." Hey, not bad. It was exactly 11am. I still would be able to get to my lunch date at noon. I chatted further with the gentleman, and he was a very nice guy. I figured that in a day or two I could mail him a thank you card for his hospitality. So, I asked his name.

He said, "John Munson."

I yelled, "Munson? Like Danny Munson?"

"That's my son," he admitted.

Not only is John Munson a hospitable guy to guys who run out of gas, but he's one of the founders of North Bowl Lanes. And I know most of his family. His son Dan is a friend of mine, even if he is a die-hard Yankees fan. John and I had a few laughs, and John explained the history of North Bowl Lanes to me.

I was glad. It helped pass the time. After all, I had a whole half-hour to kill. But I didn't want to miss my gas delivery, so I figured I better head out to my car and wait patiently for my free $5 worth of gas, and get on my way to my lunchtime date.

I'm sure many of you, for one reason or another, have been in a similar situation, where there you are, at the side of the road waiting, while other cars go hurrying by. It occurred to me that at this point I was at the mercy of the rest of the world. I couldn't abandon my car. I just had to wait for my gas.

And wait I did! I noticed that my emotions went from optimistic: first ten minutes -- the gas is on the way -- to bored -- next ten minutes -- what else can I do to pass the time? -- to angry -- next ten minutes -- I'm going to be late for my date! It was a total feeling of helplessness.

I found myself checking my watch every two minutes, even though it seemed I'd waited at least ten since the last glance. The thirty-minute wait seemed like forever. I kept looking as far down the Tom Miller Road as I could to see if something resembling a tow truck was on the way.

I noticed that there were more cigarette butts than anything else on the ground along the road. About one every step. Do that many people throw their cigarette out the window?

There was a squashed can of Hunt's tomato sauce. How did that get there? And a beautiful orange and black butterfly hung around, entertaining me for a few minutes.

At 11:30am a red truck drove by and then I saw the brake lights come on. The driver backed up. It was my longtime friend Dick Crawford, the "Bee Man," who had been buzzing down the road. After letting me cry on his shoulder he offered me assistance. I jumped in the truck with Dick and his work assistant Jon and we headed for the nearest gas station, which was about a minute away by truck.

When we returned to my car with $2.50 worth of gas in a can, there was my AAA rescuer, Mark of A & L Auto. It was now 11:35am. Dick poured in my free $5 of gas while Mark filled out all the AAA paperwork and I signed papers. I felt relieved. And it was nice to all of sudden have so many people coming to my aid.

Within minutes I was on my way, ready once again to enjoy the wonderful day. Oh, yah, right after my lunch -- I arrived at 12:02pm, just as she was exiting her workplace -- I filled my tank with gas.

And the next time that darn warning bell goes off about my gas tank, I'm heading straight to the nearest gas station. No waiting by the roadside for me. Because next time it could be at night. I would hate to have to go up to somebody's house at midnight. They might think I'm the Tom Miller Road Strangler.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 9:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (13)

I asked, you commented and I listened. In my recent blog "Should I Buy It?" I listed five items that I was considering purchasing. Being tight with my dollars at times and living on a so-called "fixed income" I am one who ponders long before actually making an important purchase.

At this point I have received fifteen comments here on the blog from my loyal band of blogoteers. I read each one carefully. Then I received another fifteen or twenty opinions from people in the community who had read the blog, but not responded online. Well-armed with that many knowledgable comments I feel confident that I am making the correct decisions on how to spend my hard-earned pension.

The paper shredder: YES. When distinguised blogoteers such as UPS Dave, Kern, Woody, miss d, and Elaine from Orlando recommend such a purchase I have to listen. Especially comparing the low cost to the value of the free personal information I've been just tossing into my trash bags. And it will be a crosscut paper shredder! I'll be buying one this week.

Big screen television: YES. Wow, the blogoteers really took this one seriously! Some even scolded me for waiting so long. I watch plenty of television, especially in the evenings, and especially baseball, so I guess a late birthday present for myself is in order. I will be consulting with Kern, Crusher, Craig Mathews, and my DVD producer for North Country Cable, Mark Tiffer before I decide what kind, what store, how big. But, thanks to the push from the blogoteers, I'll be watching the World Series on my new big screen TV.

Air purifier: NO. The blogoteers are right - I should just make my friends smoke outside. But I guess I'm too nice a guy (or a complete pushover) to do that. So, for now, I'll just open the windows more, burn incense and put up with it. And maybe buy a case of those cans of "sweet air."

Electric Car: NO. The blogoteers voted thumbs down on this item. I guess the electric car will just have to stay in my mind for another year, along with that Harley-Davidson motorcycle that I promised myself I'd buy when I retired. I guess I'll never give in and buy either one. My 2003 Pontiac Grand Am will be paid off in seven more months. I guess that will be my transportation for the next few years.

Dishwasher: NO, NOT YET. I'm going to wait for September on this decision. I'm going to take Woody up on his offer to check it out. The only things I know about dishwashers are how to open the door, where to put the Cascade and where to put the towels to soak up the drips. I'm putting my dishwasher future in Woody's capable hands. Till then let me know if you've got a few extra towels you want to get rid of!

After buying a paper shredder and big screen tv I hope I have enough money for an occasional bucket of wings or pizza. Oh, well, if I'm really in a monetary jam because of my two new toys I can live off tuna fish sandwiches all winter!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 12:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (12)

It may surprise you to hear that I'm related to the Jock family. My mother's maiden name is Jock, and many of the Jocks that you may have heard of are related to me in one way or another. That includes Pete Jock, my former colleague and a great teacher and then guidance counselor at Stafford Middle School. His father was Benny Jock, a great athlete at one time and my Mom's first cousin.

And Jess Jock, the owner of Jock's Lunch in Cadyville for so many years. Jess was my grandfather's brother. Talk about great food. I was addicted to the "chicken drumettes" meal at Jock's Lunch for awhile. I think Uncle Jess used to throw a few extra of those little drumsticks on my plate just because I was Viola's kid.

George Jock, another of my Grandpa Jock's brothers, was a painter for many years in the Plattsburgh area. All through my childhood, whenever I saw him, he would be wearing those white overalls splattered with about ten different colors of paint. His daughter is Marjorie Jock, who now works for the Plattsburgh City School District.

Recently Charles Jock passed away. He was another of my Mother's cousins. As we grew up we didn't see a lot of my Jock relatives. We spent a lot of time with my maternal grandparents, however. My grandfather was Floyd Jock, who was a railroad man. He was a larger-than-life guy, standing around 5' 5" but weighing in at over 300 pounds.

When he retired from the railroad he and my Grandma Jock ran a little neighborhood grocery store in Lacolle, Quebec. Most weekends we visited them on Sunday, arriving in time for lunch and staying until around five o'clock.

But this blog is really about my Grandma Jock, who would have celebrated her birthday today. She was born in 1900 in Cadyville. Her name was Alverda Monty. But she was always Grandma Jock to me, a mostly quiet nice grandma who always wore an apron.

While Grandpa Jock waited on customers, Grandma Jock prepared lunch, and, boy, did it smell good. Always. No matter what she prepared for our Sunday dinner, it was a feast. Arriving at the table for dinner was a joy. Big boiled white potatoes, some of them the size of a softball. Grandma's gravy, never lumpy, always tasty. Big bowls of corn or peas with a large square of butter on top.

And then, my favorite, roast beef that fell apart at the touch of a fork. We never went away hungry. And now you know why Grandpa Jock's waistline kept growing.

Grandma Jock was the first of my grandparents to pass away. I was around thirteen years old at the time and I didn't really understand about all those funeral procedures and processions. I sort of went through it all in a blur. I just saw how sad my Mom was and how supportive my Dad was of her during those times.

Tonight at our Gagnon family dinner, Mom reminded us that today was Grandma Jock's birthday. Wouldn't it be nice if we could go back in time for one more visit with our grandparents? Maybe that's why every summer I can't help but find an excuse to drive to Lacolle and drive past the house that used to be their home and store.

Little things like a birthdate can jog so many fond memories sometimes. And remind me of how lucky I was to grow up with a little Jock in me.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 10:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Being on a fixed income and being a guy who has always carefully considered a major purchase, I seldom treat myself to a luxury. Oh, I do spoil myself and others at times, but I'm talking about spending some of my hard-saved-money on something that I've done without for years.

I find myself balancing between the "hey, you've-got-it-spend-it" mode and the "save-it-in-case-you-live-a-long-time" mode. In the morning I think "buy" and by midday I think "save."

Here's where you come in. For over a year and a half now, I have admired the "On the Sly" band of blogoteers who have shared their wisdom with others in the blogosphere. Over 2000 comments have been at times perceptive, intuitive, insightful and humorous. And always interesting! So, I've decided to tap the wisdom of the blogoteers on whether I should spend the money on a number of items that have been on my "wish list."

These items are listed in random order, lest you think that the item I want most is listed first or last.

Should I buy a paper shredder? I never would have even considered such a purchase until some thief in England used one of my credit card numbers to order videogames to the tune of almost $500. Now I've become very conscious of identity theft, although I'm not sure why anyone would choose to be me! Anyway, almost daily I toss into the garbage paperwork from my banks, my credit card companies, my eBay account.

I'm not even sure what a paper shredder costs, but I wouldn't really want to spend more than $20 on one. Am I safe without one? After all, twenty bucks today can buy me a half a tank of gas!

Should I buy a big screen tv? I know there are all these new names floating around the electronics department of stores. Words like plasma, high definition, flat-screen, LCD with or without DVD. I flat out don't understand all that. Very likely I have the smallest living room tv in our family. I think it's a 25-inch screen. I'd love to watch my Dodgers win the 2007 World Series on a larger screen. But don't these things cost a couple thousand dollars?

Should I buy an air purifier? Here's something else I never would have considered in the past. But in the last few years I've allowed friends to smoke cigarettes in my living room. After they leave, the smell of cigarette smoke lingers in my living room and, I've noticed, settles on my walls. I found this out recently when I took a framed photo off the wall and saw a grey outline where the picture had been. I've tried burning incense, but then my house smells like a hippie shop from the 1960s. Would an air purifier cure all this? And what do they cost? $100?

Should I buy an electric car? For the past two summers I've toyed with the idea of buying an electric car like City Building Inspector Rick Perry and other Plattsburgh officials get to drive around. Every day I have to drive to the post office and many days to the bank. How much money could I save on gas with those trips alone? And wouldn't I look great riding along in that open-air electric car with my ponytail flying behind? What do they cost? $5000? That would be a healthy serving of my nest egg! It's too late for this year, but maybe in 2008?

Should I buy a new dishwasher? That would normally be the last thing on my mind. But I have a problem. About one out of every three times I use my dishwasher, water comes dripping out the front. This has been easily remedied thus far by using towels from my ample collection of hotel souvenir towels I've gathered in my lifetime. Hilton Hotel towels work best, by the way. But how long can this go on? Wouldn't it just be easier to give in and buy a new dishwasher? But what do they cost? $500?

Just so that you won't think that I can't make any decisions on my own, I do want you to know that I have purchased one item lately -- an air-conditioner. After listening to daily complaints from friends about how it is in my house, I relented. I purchased an air-conditioner, and, I must admit, I'm glad I did. It keeps the kitchen, dining room and kitchen very cool during our summer heat waves. I was probably one of the last holdouts on purchasing A-C. I had always felt that a fan works just as well, but it took just one day to prove that I had been wrong all these years. It would probably work even better if I could figure out what all those buttons mean on the air-conditioner.

That's my shopping list. Anyone want to offer advice on what my next purchase should be?

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 11:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (15)

During the course of a day, a week, a lot of little things pass through my mind. Things not long enough to make a blog, but things worth mentioning nevertheless. Here's a bunch of them:

Do you know Che-Che Primard? For a long time he was Plattsburgh's street-sign guy. Most of the city street signs you see today were made by Che-Che in his shop at the Department of Public Works. He was dedicated and he was good. He got the sign right. You don't see street signs with words misspelled. You don't see tough names like "Brinkerhoff" spelled "Brickerhoff." Or "Trafalgar" spelled "Traflager." Even though, we have a street called "Flagler," but it isn't misspelled "Falgler."

I've always felt we should have a street named after Che-Che in recognition of all the signs he's made for our city. How about "Che-Che Boulevard"? Doesn't that sound good?
What does it take to get a new street named after Che-Che Primard?

And:

When do we decide that dogs are just becoming too much trouble for our quiet city? I have never been a dog lover anyway, but it just seems that we all these dog laws about using a pooper-scooper and a leash and keeping your dog quiet so the neighbors can sleep at night. And now we have dogs attacking people. And the last night when I dropped off a DVD of the demolition derby at a house in our charming city, a dog greeted me at the door, tongue hanging out, drooling and smelling parts of me better left unsmelled.

Let's just ban dogs from the City of Plattsburgh. Let's just settle for nice little kittens, who know how to use a kitty litter box and don't attack anything bigger than a butterfly. And the only things they really go around smelling are shoes.

And:

Now that Barry Bonds is home run king and now that A-Rod has 500 home runs, let's marvel about Tom Glavine's steroid-free 300 major league wins. In a time when pitching coaches count pitches, and muscle-exploding batters are hitting long balls at a record-setting pace, here's a guy who weighs less than 200 pounds and has been a consistent winner for almost 20 years.

I watched Barry and A-Rod admire their own accomplishments, and I didn't feel a great deal of emotion. But I watched Tom Glavine fight back a smile in the dugout as Billy Wagner had one out to go to preserve the 300th win. As I watched Glavine hug teammates and then his family I felt a rush of emotion. It brought back the little boy in me, and when Glavine hugged his Dad, I felt stupid as I fought back a tear myself. It was easy for me to tell which of the three accomplishments meant the most to me.

And:

I've been supplementing my pension by selling some of my baseball autographs and other sports memorabilia on eBay. There is nothing hotter than Montreal Expos memorablilia. For several years I almost took up residence at Jarry Park and the Olympic Stadium. I became a regular face in the crowd for guys like Joe Kerrigan and Larry Parrish and Jose Morales. During those years I took pictures and obtained autographs and now, with the Montreal Expos part of baseball's past, collectors from around the United States and Canada are paying high prices for Expos' items.

I mention this so that you won't throw away that Expos' program or ticket stub or autograph you have in the attic. I figure that as time goes by Expos' memorabilia will continue to increase in value. But, since I'm already pretty old, I figure I better cash in while things are hot. Sort of like playing the stock market, eh?

Have you got a topic for the "On the Sly" blog? Drop me an e-mail at foxman@westelcom.com.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 8:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Yesterday was quite a day for me! I hit two legendary North Country events in the same day. Accompanied by my brother Goose, I headed out in the late morning for Whitey & Flo's Campout on the Cold Brook Road in Riverview.

I've gone to this country and western music festival for many years. This year was the 21st annual. I missed the first 14 or so, but I have been a regular since being invited years ago by Theresa Garrow of Ellenburg Center. Hosted by Whitey and Flo Keese, the campout attracts hundreds from all parts of New York State and as far away as California. This year, Skeeter Starke, a music executive with ASCAP (American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers), was a special guest.

Amidst comfortable surroundings attendees can listen to old-time country music on Friday night, all day Saturday and again on Sunday. Over the last several years I've interviewed some great North Country musicians and singers, and, sadly, a few of them have passed away.

Yesterday I couldn't help but think about Chilou Bonhomme, one of the greatest fiddle players ever, and Gerry "Longhorn" Garrow, who sang his country music from the heart. Both of these gentlemen were loved by many and often entertained the crowds at Whitey and Flo's Campout.

After about four hours of fun at the campout, Goose and I headed to Standish for my debut at Square Dashnaw's Steak Bake. Where have I been all my life that I had never attended this event before?

Square is one North Country legend that I had never met. Goose has been to the steak bake, but it was a first for me, and, boy, was I impressed. If the mall noticed that sales were down yesterday, it was because everyone was at Square's place. Hundreds of people were enjoying the atmosphere, the music and the food. Did I say food? Steamed clams by the thousands, just $5 a dozen. Clam chowder, steaks, sausages and peppers, hot dogs, and fun!

It so happens that I've known one of Square's nieces for many years. So, escorted by Theresa, I was able to personally meet the legendary Square. He was seated with several VIPs at his favorite picnic table. I was a little nervous at first, meeting someone who is held in such high regard in the North Country.

But he put me at ease with a firm handshake and an easy smile. It seems that Square Dashnaw's Steak Bake became official in 1994, but it had been held for many years prior to that. I'm sorry I have missed it all these years, but it's already on my calendar for 2008.

And steak isn't the only thing that got baked yesterday. With the sun streaming down all day I now wish I'd worn a hat. The top of my head, vacated by hair years ago, is baked as well. When I finish blogging, I think a little Vaseline Intensive Care Lotion needs to find its way to my scalp.

If you've never been to either Whitey & Flo's Campout or Square Dashnaw's Steak Bake, mark your calendar for the first Saturday of August 2008. I'll see you there. And, since I know some important people, I'll be able to arrange for you to meet those North Country legends, Whitey & Flo Keese and Square Dashnaw.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 7:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

What have we got in this city? A bunch of rich kids? Used to be there would be teenagers up and down Johnson Avenue and other city streets in the summertime mowing lawns, washing windows, raking leaves and selling lemonade.

My Mom relies on a neighborhood kid to mow her lawn. But with his mower broken, there's no kid around to pick up the slack. Used to be kids would knock on your door and ask to mow the lawn. Mom figures the last time that happened was sometime in the 1980s.

What are those teenagers doing instead of mowing lawns, sweeping sidewalks and selling lemonade? I've run into two yard sales this summer where a youngster was selling lemonade and brownies. I always make sure I spend fifty cents to help the kid with his business.

Usually the lemonade is warm and bitter and the brownies are soft and chewy. Not bad for fifty cents. Probably the kid makes five dollars for his patience at his little table that day, and he learns something about earning money and how hard a quarter is to come by these days.

The last official lemonade stand I've seen in Plattsburgh was the Manchester kids on Prospect Avenue a few years back. I'd always stop, even though on Prospect there is no place to stop other than somebody's driveway or their front lawn. But I would always stop, slow down traffic on Prospect and spend some money supporting a new business in Plattsburgh.

Summers in the 1950s meant little Ray Gagnon would pull his wagon around Fox Hill selling kool-aid and popcorn. I'd make a couple of bucks easily, just by knocking on doors or selling to those teenagers mowing lawns and sweeping sidewalks. It was business at its best in Plattsburgh in those days. A nickel was a valuable commodity, something you had to work for. You felt great afterwards because you'd earned some money on your own.

We didn't have video games, 100-channel HD-TVs or swimming pools to occupy our time when we were kids. Our version of a swimming pool was running through the sprinkler. And we could spend hours doing that until your Mom would start worrying that the water bill was going to be too high.

In the meantime, over on Johnson Avenue, my Mom's front lawn may start looking like a hayfield. I may have to drive my 18.5 horsepower Foxmobile Lawnmower all the way cross town and give her a good cut.

My Mom is wondering where all the teenagers have gone. "They all must have enough money," she figures.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 10:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (10)