On The Sly

I am willing to admit that I was one of the last holdouts in using a computer. I said that I really had no need for one. Why would I have to research anything on the world wide web when I had a set of encyclopedias and a good thick dictionary?

As yearbook advisor at Stafford Middle School, I would retype teachers' names and headlines year after year, redoing tasks that a computer would have saved for me. Some of my colleagues would kid me about all the extra work I was doing, sitting at a typewriter for hours after school. I give a lot of credit to Gale Carroll, John Haubner and Dick Rabideau for being the most active friends at urging me to "put that stuff on a computer."

Finally, a half-day workshop for the SMS computer holdouts turned my life around. I tried it and I liked it. Some program called "spread sheet" could help me categorize all my baseball memorabilia collection. You could categorize by name, year, company, team or any other way you wanted. I became a born-again computer guy.

I mention this as a way of saying since then I have tossed out my old typewriter, even the outstanding electric typewriter that I had received for a Christmas present so many years ago. I now spend hours a day at my computer, selling on eBay, researching baseball information and e-mailing friends and business associates.

My SMS colleagues must chuckle now that the old computer holdout writes an internet blog for the local newspaper. I guess it's never too late to learn something new. But there are moments when I wish I still used a typewriter.

Like today, for example. A typerwriter would have saved me from some of the distress that I've gone through today. You see, around nine o'clock this morning I sat at my computer and started writing a blog titled "Three Men and a Lunch." It's the tale of my second lunch visit to the Senior Citizens Center. This time I was accompanied by Skip Zatonski and Jim Carr, who were going there for the first time.

I told about our quiet arrival, which took me by surprise. I would have figured that if three of the North Country's most eligible bachelors walked into the room there might have been a little buzz among the ladies. No such thing. The only buzzing I heard was from one of the band's amplifiers. I told a few anecdotes about how Skip met a guy that he used to work with at Channel 5 back in the Sixties and how Jim brought a book from the 1930s that had newsletters from Mount Assumption Institute.

I told about the music performed that day by Frank Cody and the RSVP Kitchen Band. Frank, Ruth, Earl and Reggie entertained just before lunch and several seniors were up on the floor dancing. We three Blogoteers didn't dance, but I did notice Skip tapping his foot to one of Reggie's fiddle tunes.

Anyway, my blog was almost complete this morning, including a full description of the great meatloaf dinner we enjoyed for just $2.25, when I received a phone call. A friend needed a ride to work because her car wouldn't start. Always willing to give a friend a helping hand, especially around the holiday season, I left my story unfinished and hurried off to her rescue.

When I returned thirty minutes later, my computer screen was black. I clicked the mouse, I jiggled the mouse, I talked to the mouse. I moved my monitor. I tried the "escape" button on my computer. I tried the space bar. I lost my patience.

I knew that to restart the computer would mean that "Three Men and a Lunch" would be lost forever. And that's what has happened. I never even got to the part of getting a big container of Jim Carr's famous turkey and rice soup.

If you've ever tried to re-write something, you know oh-too-well how it never comes out the same the second time. There will never be a "Three Men and a Lunch" blog. Had I written the blog on my typewriter, aha! I could have left the typewriter for days. Upon my return, blog as is! No black screen on a typewriter. No falling asleep forever on a typewriter. No disappearing act by typewriter stories.

I wonder what my friends Gale and John and Dick have to say about that!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 2:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

It was Sunday at 11am and there I sat in my car on Prospect Avenue, less than a mile from my home, with a Plattsburgh City Police cruiser parked behind me, lights flashing. I was slumped in the front seat, realizing that every car passing by was checking to see what bozo was getting a ticket for speeding.

Moments later, the policeman and I stood outside my car talking and I noticed the glances of drivers as they passed by. Several people knew me. Several people, I'm sure, said, "Look! Foxy's getting a speeding ticket!" or, worse, "Look! Foxy's getting arrested!" Why else would the police have me standing outside my car?

As people passed by, some familiar faces looked away when I tried to catch their eye. What could I say? Body language doesn't work so well when you're standing with a policeman, lights flashing, and every driver on Prospect Avenue knows you been caught red-handed!

Had I really wanted to spice up the rumor mill, I could have thrown myself spread-eagle across the hood of my car. The idea entered my brain, but I decided I should just play it cool and let people talk about what they witnessed on Sunday at 11am on Prospect Avenue.

I know I have seen other cars stopped around the city, and observed the police officer talking to the driver, and I've assumed "speeding ticket" or "red-light violation." Now I know how wrong I might have been. I will never assume that again. After waiting over 30 minutes in that situation on Sunday, I know better now.

In truth, my car had broken down -- broken fuel pump, as I found out this morning. And as I waited for a tow truck, AAA emergency operators had contacted the city police that a car was stalled in a dangerous area, near the Cornelia Street intersection.

Police officer Chris Clarke came to my rescue, discussed the situation with me and remained with me until the tow truck arrived. His flashing patrol car lights warned oncoming vehicles that Foxy Gagnon's Pontiac Grand Am is a valuable piece of equipment and should be protected. Ever the professional, when traffic increased, he directed cars around my vehicle.

Finally the A&L Auto tow truck arrived with Paul at the helm. Paul hooked up my car and mounted it onto his flatbed. Officer Clarke gave me a courtesy ride home. I had never been inside a police car, and he moved some of his paperwork so that I could ride up front in the passenger's seat. Officer Clarke was a very nice guy, a true professional and I appreciated his attention during my time of dismay.

He had one of these nice computers attached to his dash, and I was amazed at how much information he can obtain at a moment's notice. I hope later he put in the computer that this was a stalled vehicle stop and not a traffic stop for a subject named Foxy Gagnon.

In the meantime, perhaps you have heard rumors over the last few days about my arrest on Sunday morning. Things like, "Poor Foxy looked so sad standing there while the police searched his vehicle" or "They pulled Foxy out of the vehicle and the police car lights were flashing for over 30 minutes! They must have found something in his car!" You know how those rumors go.

Two days later I'm back on the roadway, new fuel pump operating fine. Hopefully there won't be any police lights in my rear view mirror anytime soon!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 4:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

Now that Thanksgiving Day has passed we can just about wrap up November with some notes on the past few days:

The turkey was great. While those Littleneck clams are still on my mind for Sunday, I was in charge of cooking the 18-pound turkey for the small gathering of Gagnons. Four and half hours of cooking and basting at 325 degrees did the trick. It was an enjoyable, albeit somewhat quiet, Thanksgiving dinner.

The highlight of the day, however, was my act of carelessness. I crashed into my Mom's house, causing a few hundred dollars damage to the siding and about $500 damage to my car. It's a long story and fodder for a future blog.

Black Friday came and went without incident, but the North Country's foremost observer of the annual event, Blogoteer Craig Mathews documented the highlights in an e-mail to dignitaries in the area. Somehow I made his list of dignitaries and read his moment-by-moment description of Black Friday at WalMart. I was tempted to print his e-mail verbatim in this blog, but I would have had to edit too many of his humorous comments.

Maybe next Black Friday I can accompany Craig for the event and we'll make a "Fox on the Run" tv show with Craig as color commentator. If the Press-Republican ever decides to go with an "adult-version" newspaper, Craig is the guy they have to sign for a blog.

The other noteworthy event on the day after Thanksgiving was that I heard my first Christmas song for 2007. It was Brenda Lee's "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree." Do you know how many more times I will hear that song before December 25? What Christmas tree? I've still got Thanksgiving leftovers! No Christmas tree to rock around yet.

The one thing I will get accomplished in the days ahead is making my Christmas shopping list. What do I get Goose? One of his presents is already ordered. What do I get my sister Darlene? What does anyone give to their little sister? What does my son Erik need? What does his wife need, expectant mother that she is? Should I buy something for Grandchild Gagnon who won't be born until February? So many decisions to make.

And what do I buy for that certain someone who can turn my frown into a smile? Would an envelope full of $1 bills make her happy? Every woman loves money, right? Or should it have a more personal touch? Like something from Bed, Bath & Beyond. I'm always hesitant to give a friend something from a business that has "bed" in its title.

Once the shopping list is complete, it'll be intermittent shopping trips to get items checked off the list. But you can bet I'll be leaving plenty of time open on December 7th for the Carver's-Foxman's Blogoteers Get Together at Meron's. Already the list of dignitaries and Blogoteers is growing. If you have a favorite snack that you'd like to share, please bring it along. Maybe it'll make the blog!

Goose and I will be taking a cab there, so that our VIP parking spots will be available for some of the early arrivals. We will be there early and staying late, and I'll be scribbling (a fitting word for later in the evening) notes in my notebook for future reference for future blogs. So, if you are bringing someone along that you shouldn't really be seen with, be certain you tell me to note that in my notebook, so I don't mention it later in On the Sly.

Finally, through e-mails I've received some interesting items from Blogoteers Fred and Dianne and Sal and Doc that I'll mention in an On the Sly very soon. If you come across items of interest for future blogs, feel free to e-mail me at foxman@westelcom.com.

Hope to see many of you soon!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 10:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (8)

While most others are thinking of turkey at this time of year, I have a confession to make: I can't get my mind off clams. I've kept this a secret for over a year now, a bit unsure of myself, a bit unsure how other people would react. Not even sure if I were doing everything right.

It all started a little over a year ago, when I joined my brother Goose in Saranac Lake one night. Once a year he has a big fishing expedition in the Adirondacks with clients from downstate and I join him at his cabin for relaxing brother-bonding time. On that particular night we went to a restaurant just down the road from the cabin and he ordered a dozen steamed clams.

I had never tried those little slimy critters, but with a few beers in me, I was willing to sample one of his favorite treats. At first I had my doubts, especially when they arrived at the table, all opened up and staring at me.

I watched Goose with his method of partaking of a steamed clam. And, then, I took a deep breath and tried my first steamed clam. It was a moment to remember. Oh, okay, not a moment to remember like that night in Parsippany, New Jersey, or not like that moment to remember like when I hit a home run off Joey Proctor. Not even up there with that moment to remember when I met a certain someone the first time.

But it was a moment to remember. In fact, that night I ate four of the dozen -- okay, maybe five. But the taste of those steamed clams remained on my mind for a long time. I secretly checked menus all around the North Country, trying to find a place where I could enjoy those slimy morsels.

Finally, this summer I found two clam bakes, where I had a chance to purchase steamed clams: $5 for a dozen. All the while I was trying my best to keep this to myself. I don't know why.

Then, one day a few months ago, while strolling through a local store, I found a bag of clams in ice. The sign read: "$4.99 for 50 clams." What a sale! I grabbed a bag, and hurried home to try steaming my first batch of clams.

I figure if you put some water in a kettle and get it boiling and then throw in some clams, that the steam inside the kettle would cook those clams. And that's what I've been doing for months. Almost every Sunday, enjoying clams with melted butter. It's become something of an obsession. I can't stop enjoying them.

Finally, I felt it was time to let the secret out. Time to go ahead, tell the world about my new-found love. So, one afternoon last week, while chatting with the boys over at Bobby's Lounge, I mentioned how I've been eating steamed clams every Sunday during the NFL games. I explained in detail my pursuit of clams, my procedure for cooking clams, my intense enjoyment of partaking.

Lo and behold, within moments I found out that I have been doing this all wrong. I've been courting the wrong love. I've been boiling, not steaming. Thank goodness, my friends Skip and Spike got me on the right track.

Their voices of experience and their personal love affairs with clams spilled out in my direction. Apparantly I've taken up with cubic zerconia when I could have been enjoying diamonds.

Skip explained that I've been eating Mahogany clams, sort of the bottom of the clam chain. I need to try Little Neck clams, both Skip and Spike advise. And I need to buy a collander and really steam those suckers, not boil them. I've been doing this all wrong.

But, thank goodness, I've got good friends who are willing to get me back on the right path. Secret revealed, I do feel a lot better. And I know that in the days ahead when I buy my first batch of Little Necks, even though it's $5 for one dozen, instead of for four dozen, I get to taste what I've been missing all these months.

I'll proudly step up and join the big leaguers of steamed clams. Heck, without Skip and Spike I would have been a Little Leaguer forever. That's the benefit of coming out. If you've got good friends who stand beside you and guide you along.

Oh, I'll enjoy turkey this week, like most of you, and even enjoy the leftovers. Maybe I'll even get a bowl of Jim Carr's famous turkey soup. But my mind will be on those Little Necks I'm planning for Sunday!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 8:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)

The day: Friday. The time: 5pm. On my way to the Peru area to visit a certain someone, a nice hot pepperoni pizza sitting on my passenger seat, I saw my first snowflake of the new winter season.

It was a small one, and it gently touched down on my windshield while I waited at the stoplight at the intersection of the Military Turnpike and Irish Settlement Road. I stared at it, and as I drove ahead it melted. Moments later several snowflakes were dancing across my windshield, bringing the realization that the summer had flown by.

There are some things that I already miss. I already miss watching baseball all night, sitting on my living room floor, perched against the couch, various snacks at my fingertips. The 2007 baseball season flew by. The Boston Red Sox are champs in two out of the last four. Where's the talk of dynasty? And yet today on "Mike & the Mad Dog" a Sports Illustrated writer called the New York Yankees "the number one franchise in baseball." How can a major sportswriter be so out of touch with baseball? Oh, well, just 136 days until Opening Day!

I already miss the familiar Saturday morning faces at the Farmers' Market in Plattsburgh. Along with fresh corn on the cob. This time of year I always wish I'd eaten twice as much as I did. And I miss the radishes and scallions. I'm sure people are too kind to tell me that eating those little green onions with salt gives a person bad breath for days. Even two bottles of that orange mouthwash can't put a dent in scallion breath!

I already miss stepping outside in just a tee-shirt or with bare feet. Those heavy hoodies and puffy winter jackets are just too darn heavy. And speaking of tee-shirts, I miss those slow drives down Rugar Street right about noontime. As a longtime educator, I admire students pursuing a college degree.

I miss the drive down the Northway to Saratoga in August. Windows down, warm sun on my left arm, music blasting. And standing on the benches trackside with my son, yelling for some horse named "Fox Trot" or "Golden Goose."

I miss a 7pm drive to one of the local ice cream stands for a medium vanilla ice cream cone. Or chocolate milkshake. Or both.

I already miss high school football games, working with my brother Goose. We've covered high school football for the cable television public-access channel for 16 seasons. When we started we were a lot skinnier and a lot less gray, but it's still fun. Especially when a team is driving for a game-winning touchdown with about 20 seconds left in the game, and Goose is telling me, "There's plenty of time, Foxy!"

And, I never thought I'd say it, but I already miss high school soccer games. Covering the Plattsburgh High School boys' soccer team this year was fun. With Tony Hollop on camera for every game, I learned a few rules about soccer. The PHS boys team has reached the Final Four in Oneonta. Their semi-final game is on Saturday morning. Their 5-2 regular season win over Beekmantown was the most exciting soccer game I had ever seen -- until their NYSPHSAA Class B quarterfinal win, a 3-2 victory over Marcellus Central. Even an old man like me didn't mind the 28-degree temperature when the game ended.

The one snowflake today brought me to the reality that the good days of summer are over. Now I can look forward to bundling up in 30 pounds of clothing to snowblow my driveway, and to jumping into a frozen car when I head out for the post office each day. And trudging along Margaret Street to the bank, only to get splashed by a gallon of slush when a car turns the corner.

Ah, no matter what the season, there's just nothing like living in the North Country.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 8:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (11)

I've never been a pet person. In one of my earlier lives my wife loved cats and we housed one, but you would never catch me talking to it or playing games with it, even though her cats had great names like Popcorn and Macaroni.

The only thing I recall about one of those cats is that one of them scratched a 1953 Bowman Stan Musial baseball card, taking a claw-size nick out of Stan the Man's face, rendering the card almost worthless instead of its $300 book value.

For many many years my Mom has had a cat named Camille. A quiet cat with a pure white coat and deep blue eyes. She has made a great companion for my Mom, and, according to all Mom's accounts, Camille communicates quite well with her. I've never witnessed it myself, but my Mom says that Camille knows when it's time to eat, when it's time for bed, and when it's time to just stare into space.

What I find incredible, though, is that during the fifteen years since Camille moved into Mom's Johnson Avenue home, my Mom has become increasingly like Camille. Mom's hair in the last fifteen years has turned beautifully white, much the way Camille's has always been.

In the last two years Mom has become a very finicky eater, often pushing food around on her dinner plate, picking and choosing what she likes and what she doesn't like. Put a plate of tuna in front of Camille and Camille is in the mood for chicken. Give her chicken and Camille is in the mood for beef in gravy. That's Mom now, often complaining that the food doesn't taste good and not really enjoying her meals.

In addition, Camille is a housecat, content to lay around on her favorite chair in Mom's living room and content to listen to WIRY Radio all day. Her favorite spot might be right in front of the picture window, watching who passes by on Johnson Avenue.

Same as Mom. Mom enjoys her mornings at the kitchen counter working on the Press-Republican crossword puzzle while sipping a cup of decaf. Mom enjoys sitting in her living room chair, listening to WIRY Radio or watching television or, better yet, watching who passes by her window. In the past few years, Mom has become a house person, not wanting to venture out because it's too cold, too windy, too rainy, too sunny, too hot. Content to just be at home.

Is it true that the more a person and their pet hang out, the more the person becomes like the pet? I heard that on the Animal Planet channel. Never having been a pet person myself, it surprised my family when I surrendered to the coaxing from a certain someone two years ago and forked over $15 for a kitten that I named Lily.

As I have watched Lily grow in size and in independence, I find myself becoming more and more like her. It kind of rattles me a bit to even ask this, but is it possible I am becoming more and more like my cat?

She's a long-haired tiger cat and, since she moved in, I somehow made the decision to stop getting regular haircuts and to let my hair grow longer. If you know about cats, then you know that long-haired cats shed. Lily is real good at that. And anyone who has noticed my bald head knows that I've been shedding for years. Take a look at my hairbrush, if you have any doubts.

Lily's main hobby seems to be curling up on the couch for a daytime nap. She will sleep there for hours, no matter what sounds can be heard out on Saratoga Court. Same for me. I never used to do this, but lately I've been curling up on my cushioned couch and dozing off in mid-afternoon. No matter what sounds are out there on Saratoga Court.

One thing that gets Lily moving, though, is a nice snack treat. Need I say more? If I wake up to a Taco Bell commercial or Orville Redenbacher's commercial on tv, I can't help but scamper into the kitchen and fix up a nice batch of nachos or bowl of popcorn.

Life seems pretty good in this cat world. I am independent, a bit stubborn, just like Lily. I never knew that life could be this good. If only I could figure out about those nine lives that cats have!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 10:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I read an article in one of the local weeklies about a local Spelling Bee. The regional winners are trying to raise money to go to the nationals. The Press-Republican has jumped on board in raising awareness of the event and, in so doing, generate funds for the youngsters to move on to the next spelling level.

It's nice to know that spelling still counts. In these days of instant messaging and text messaging and chatrooms, spelling doesn't really matter, as long as you can quickly and easily make your point. As an English teacher, it has meant an adjustment on my part to accept the new shorthand method of writing and spelling.

It has taken some time to accept lol, brb, thks and ttyl as legitimate forms of communication. And wassup and gotcha and nite have been common new words on computer screens around the world. Even worse, punctuation seems to be a thing of the past.

I remain a stubborn throwback to the old days, and upon the rare occasions when I do instant message, I still punctuate properly and spell words correctly. Modern day IMers tend to make fun of my strange way of communicating.

So, anytime I see that an organization is rewarding correct spelling, I'm interested. There was a time, sometime during the late 1950s, when WIRY Radio held a live weekly spelling bee. Each Saturday morning, students would compete for a $50 savings bond and the honor of being the best speller in your grade in all of Clinton County.

Each local school could send two students, and when they it was time for the fifth grade contest, the Our Lady of Victory Academy fifth grade teacher, Sister Mary Constance, gave our class a spelling test. Angela Liberty and I scored the highest, so we were selected to go to WIRY on the next Saturday morning.

I'm not certain, but I think that Chet Bosworth was the master of ceremonies for the spelling bee. A large group of students were packed into the WIRY studio and, one by one, we would spell words. If you missed a word, you exited the studio. The words were fairly easy, but I recall that many students dropped out on the word "banana." I probably would have missed that word, but someone finally spelled it correctly before it was my turn.

At the end both Angela and I remained. All the other students had missed a word. We OLVA classmates were in a battle for the $50 savings bond. I'm not sure why I rememeber this so clearly, but we each kept spelling words correctly. Finally, Angela was asked to spelling the word "busily." I tossed letters around quietly in my head, while Angela slowly announced, "b-u-i-s-i-l-y."

Chet said, "No, sorry, Angela, that's not correct." He looked at me. If I could spell the word, I would win the contest. Heck, I thought Angela had spelled it correctly. She spelled it exactly the way I would have spelled it. So, advantage Gagnon. I knew how NOT to spell it. I had a moment to make a guess.

So, I chose the next logical path. "B-u-s-i-l-y," I said. Chet said, "That's right! You are our winner this week." I didn't go home with $50. Chet told me that WIRY needed to get some information from my parents. Sometime later I received the savings bond. I don't know what I ever spent it on. Maybe a bicycle or a baseball glove. I'm really not sure. Maybe it's still lying around in my Mom's safe.

It would be fun to see WIRY revive that spelling program. Or, maybe one of the local watering holes, like Bobby's Lounge or the Fourth Ward or Meron's would be interested. We could videotape the event for the public-access channel. But they might have to include all those new words like LOL and OMG.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 7:18 AM | Permalink | Comments (7)

The November election has now come and gone and I'm sure that all the participants are looking forward to a little bit more free time to enjoy other things. During the past few weeks whenever I'd encounter a candidate, I'd ask, "So, how do you feel?"

The consensus response was, "I'll just be glad when it's over." I admire all those who gave it a go, and even though some are listed on the "loser" side of the ledger, there really are no losers. Those who came up short gave us a great gift -- that of having a choice for a particular office.

And I'm sure some of the candidates who came up short this time will be back in the future. At least I hope so! On the day after the election here are some of my observations:

(1) By high noon today every single one of those 43 campaign signs on Johnson Avenue had been picked up! I didn't check the other nearby streets, but I'm sure I would have found similar results. In another week I'll be doing a city-wide tally.

(2) There were some close races in Clinton County. As I had predicted, the race for county treasurer was a barnburner! Joe Giroux beat Kimberly Kleist by just 397 votes, according to the "unofficial results." With over 16,000 votes cast, that's a narrow margin. So close of a finish that, according to my tv slogan, it means I'm getting "a bucket of wings on the way home!"

(3) Another close one was in Ward 3 of the city where incumbent George Rabideau nipped Stuart Voss. I've known both men a long time. This was one of those races where you wished that they both could have won.

(4) On election night, as is my custom, I listened to WIRY Hometown Radio for the local election results. Ducky Drake and his guest, Bob Heins, did a great job of keeping us entertained while they waited for results to trickle in. I imagined Bob Pooler out in the parking lot waiting for someone, anyone, to bring some vote totals, while Ducky and Bob reminisced about the old days of the Common Council. But results were slow in arriving and Ducky and Bob had to really stretch the list of conversation topics. At least they avoided the whole "Where is A-Rod going?" topic.

(5) One of my theories following this election was going to be that as the number of us old retired folk increases, we will vote for the older of the two candidates. You know, with the idea that older is better and those younguns have to pay their dues before they earn my vote. What do you think? Is there anything to my theory? After all, Giroux beat Kleist. Kelly beat Williams in Ward 2. Calnon beat Breyette and Kreig in Ward 4. Bassett beat Lee for the Town of Plattsburgh supervisor spot. Amy Duquette beat Alicia Jessmer Sirk for Town of Plattsburgh clerk. However, they are both young enough to be my daughters!

(6) Congratulations to young Adam Haberstro, who ran for the Ward 6 councilor spot. At age 25, he was probably the youngest in the county to run for office. WIRY reported that he had done a great job at the City Hall forum prior to the election. Hopefully, he'll be back for more in a few years.

(7) On election night I couldn't help but think of my days and nights over at Jack Stewart's house when he was running for alderman. A longtime politician and one of the North Country's greatest storytellers, Jack always kept a positive attitude. His wins far outnumbered his losses, and no one could ever question his love of city government. I wonder if Jack still keeps tabs on local politics.

One final thought: the mayoral position was unchallenged. Apparantly Mayor Donald M. Kasprzak has done such a great job that nobody dared run against him. Good decision. I think he would have won in a landslide, even if the challenger had been Joe Torre or Spider-Man or Foxy Gagnon. Now the good Mayor has three years, along with the new Common Council, to work his magic over our wallets. He knows that there a lot of us retired guys on fixed incomes, except for sales from eBay or tv show DVDs or occasional substitute teacher jobs or blog authoring, who need to count our tax pennies.

I knew this would be an interesting election! I can hardly wait for the next one!

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

There was a time when I envisioned myself sitting amidst the City of Plattsburgh's Common Council tables, representing Fox Hill, like John Flynn did during my youth. I was always interested in the political process and, as mentioned in an earlier blog, I have a nice collection of old North Country pins and brochures.

But, for me, times have changed and I leave the tough task of running for a political office to those more energetic than I. People like Joe Giroux and Kimberly Kleist, who are vying for the County Treasurer's seat. On Thursday night I attended the public forum at City Hall sponsored by the League of Women Voters.

I wasn't sure what to expect, but I felt that it would be informative. Plus, I personally
find this particular race very interesting for many reasons. I have known Joe Giroux since high school. We are both 1966 graduates of Our Lady of Victory Academy, and Joe was one of my very best friends. And I don't know Kimberly Kleist at all.

So, on this night I looked forward to the opportunity to see how my old buddy would do with the pressure on, and it was a chance for me to meet and learn more about Kimberly and chat with some of her supporters.

With over 50 people packing the small room it was a standing-room-only crowd. I was happy about the nice crowd, but wished they'd chosen a larger venue for the forum. It was in the old City Court room, a place I once paid a ticket for driving too fast on Margaret Street. But that's another story about me and Officer Doyle Raffield.

As the crowd filtered in, I chose a seat at a table near a distinguished-looking gentleman that I didn't know. Within minutes I was sandwiched by Marcel Giroux on one side and John Giroux on the other side, both younger brothers of Joe. I hadn't seen them in many years and we chatted quietly. Shortly, we were joined by more of Joe's family, including his wife Carol and son Todd.

Several dignitaries were in the crowd, and, among them, I recognized Marty Mannix, Tom Sears and William Favreau. Frank Woodward came in wearing his trademark cap. And, of course, Bob Pooler of Hometown Radio WIRY. The local radio station was carrying the forum live. The audience ranged in age from 20s to 80s, and they quieted when Myra Decker stood at the podium.

There was an eerie quiet as Bob Pooler introduced the event to his radio listeners and waited for commercials to conclude. It was sort of like those tv timeouts they take at pro football games. The players and officials just standing around waiting for the signal to start the action.

During the fifty-minute forum both candidates answered questions submitted by the audience. The questions were screened by a panel from the League of Women Voters.
As you might guess, there were not many humorous moments. The County Treasurer's office isn't a funny place. It's where you pay your property and school taxes. That's not a funny subject.

I learned many things about the responsibilities of a county treasurer. I never realized that they invest our tax money, searching through several options on what might be the best way to get a better bang for the buck. I didn't know that our county raises 27 million dollars in taxes per year.

That sounds like a lot, but it wouldn't even pay A-Rod for a year! But that's another story!

During the forum the audience occasionally applauded one of the candidate's answer. I never applauded. That was on purpose. I didn't want to tip my hand about my vote on Tuesday. Sometimes when people clap at these events they clap extra loud to make it sound as though they are really five people clapping. That never fools me.

In her closing statement Kim thanked the audience for their attendance and mentioned that this is "not the most exciting race in the world." She's right, but I find it one of the most interesting ones in our local election.

Just as moderator Myra Decker was wrapping up the event a spectator interrupted her by requesting that the audience be able to ask further questions based upon something a candidate said during the forum. Myra graciously responded that this was not in the guidelines of the forum. The spectator persisted, but Myra stood her ground.

I applauded. It was my only applause of the night, and it was followed by a big ovation for Myra and the League of Women Voters. As I exited I shook Joe's hand and then introduced myself to Kim.

I left with a good feeling that there is a lot right with local politics in the North Country. Two very nice, very different candidates, running for one two-year job. On Tuesday I'll cast my vote for one of them. And, I hope you will take the time, no matter the weather, to find your polling place and vote for the candidates that you feel deserve the jobs they seek. Your right to vote is something to treasure!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 9:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

In just over a month the On the Sly blog will be two years old. Born on December 12, 2005, somehow On the Sly has survived nearly two years. When the editorial staff first approached me about this endeavor, I had my doubts. Many of them.

However, Bob and Lois and Bob and Roger reassured me that this new idea would work. Maybe they were just covering up, but their no-doubt positive attitude encouraged me to give it a try.

And now On the Sly has been hanging around the website almost two years. For those interested in statistics and trivia, here are a few thoughts:

The first blog was titled "Foxy Intro: What's a Blog?" and it was followed four days later by the first real blog called "A Tale of a Tail," the story of my quest to grow a ponytail after a lifetime of being told to "get a haircut." I didn't realize at that time that it would take nearly two years to make the fashion statement I had been dreaming about.

This blog is number 257 on the list and the blogs have been accompanied by 2220 published comments by the real stars of On the Sly, the Blogoteers! Some blogoteers joined the club and left, some have returned, and some have been around for the entire ride.

One of the first Blogoteers, the Carver, sees reason to celebrate. Last year in December we held an impromptu last-minute gathering of blogoteers and it proved to be fun and interestng. I was able to meet face-to-face with some of my partners at On the Sly. Some revealed their identities and others didn't. I have to admit that I still don't know who "rubble" is!

Nevertheless, the time is near! The date: Friday, December 7. The site: Meron's in Plattsburgh. Time: from 5pm on. Hosted by: the Carver and the Fox.

We hope this will be an annual event where we can share good times, share some future blog ideas (I'll bring my notepad), and enjoy cold drinks or hot coffee. Maybe we'll even play "Rate the Ponytail!" Blogoteers, who probably have a few favorite recipes up their sleeves, are invited to bring a favorite snack.

I don't think the tee-shirts will be ready for this year's party, but by next year, look out! Blogoteers Unite!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 1:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (14)