On The Sly

When I checked today's mail I was a bit insulted at first. Amidst my usual pile of junk mail and bills was a brochure with the question "Starting Over? Here's something to make it easier."

It was a postcard brochure from Just For Men - Touch of Gray. Who in the blogosphere gave them my name? The other side of the postcard showed three guys in their forties wearing spandex shorts cavorting on the beach with three women who looked to be in their twenties. One girl was bikini clad and the other two wore tight revealing tops.

Gosh, those guys sure are lucky was not my first thought. My first thought remained - Who in the blogosphere gave them my name? "It's time to make some new memories" says the postcard.

When I opened the postcard the first words I saw were "Make this time the best time." The words were above a photo of the bikini clad blonde being hugged by one of those forty-year-old dudes. Another photo to the left showed the same happy couple giving me the peace sign.

Are they relics from those good old days, the Sixties? Is the guy a former burned out hippie who has found true happiness later in life? I wish I knew. They sure look happy. The words "It's time to get out there again" stared at me from the brochure.

By now it was obvious that the key to true happiness late in life is to get rid of some of the gray. "Now you can keep some gray and keep looking great."

At one time in my life -- late twenties, early-to-mid thirties - I had a full black beard. Not a touch of gray in it. But 'ere long I started finding gray whiskers on my chin. At first a pluck here and a pluck there did the trick. But I quickly realized that I was prematurely gray only on my chin. Trying to control it was a losing battle.

There I was at the age of forty -- an entirely gray chin and a black beard on the sides and a black moustache. It just never occured to me to get rid of the gray. People would have to take me as I am.

Now, approaching the age of sixty, I'm pretty much a graybeard. And, despite the promises of the postcard I received today, that's how I'm going to stay. Even though it takes just five minutes to change my world, I'm going to pass on Just for Men Touch of Gray.

Even though they gave me a coupon "Free - up to $9 - on any Just for Men Touch of Gray product," I'm going to pass. "Get your free touch of gray - and get out there!" Hey, I'm going to get out there whenever I want without their free offer.

Sure is tough for someone on a fixed income to pass up on a free offer. But what really bugs me is this company knows my name and address. What will I get next? A text message?

I just want to know who in the blogosphere gave them my name?

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 8:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

You might remember Matt Sames -- playing sports for Plattsburgh High School, pitching fastballs for Lemoyne College and throwing touchdown passes for the Plattsburgh North Stars semi-pro football team. A young man always ready for a challenge.

Along the way he met Lori Burnell -- intelligent, athletic, beautiful -- and they married. The Sames family has been living in Clifton Park, about 140 miles south of Plattsburgh. With three children and a busy life, Matt and Lori were living a happy life.

Since March 27, 2008, however, their lives have been turned upside down. On that day their four-year-old daughter Hannah was diagnosed with an extremely rare terminal genetic disease called Giant Axonal Neuropathy (GAN). It is one of the rarest diseases in the world. It is estimated that only 20-50 children in the world have GAN.

There is no treatment, no cure, and very little research, since GAN affects so few children. It is a degenerative disease that initially affects walking, but eventually leads to an early death, perhaps twenty years later.

Don't expect Matt and Lori to back down from a challenge, the greatest challenge they have ever faced. They have begun a campaign to save Hannah's life and the lives of other children with this disease. They have established Hannah's Hope, a foundation for donations to pay for research. They have contacted medical facilities and doctors around the world.

There is initial interest from Stanford University and Columbia Presbyterian Hospital in New York City. About two million dollars is needed to initate the research process. Sounds overwhelming. But don't question the determination of those who join Hannah's Hope.

Finding a treatment and a cure for GAN will take millions of dollars more. But, as both Matt and Lori have said, "Someone has to be the first -- the first to be cured."

A website has been designed -- http://www.hannahshopefund.org -- and it is very informative. Included is a short video explaining the story of Hannah and the challenges the Sames family face.

After a visit to the website, I'm sure the Blogoteers will want to get on board and huddle up with Matt, Lori, and all their family and friends.

It's as if Matt is facing a third down and long situation -- and he's huddling up to come up with the right strategy. I've got a feeling he's going to throw a touchdown pass into the waiting arms of Hannah.

NOTES:

Matt, a 1986 graduate of Plattsburgh High School, is the son of Katie and the late Ray Sames. Matt is the nephew of Judy and the late Mike Mannix, as well as Peg and Marty Mannix.

Lori, a graduate of Beekmantown Central, is the daughter of Judy and Earl Burnell.

Matt and Lori have three children: Madison (9 years old), Reagan (6 1/2) and Hannah.

Mark your calendars -- two fundraisers for the Hannah's Hope Foundation are being organized -- July 20 at the Rainbow Room in Altona and September 15 at Mainely Lobster. See you there!

LATE ADDITION: Bill Watson, organizer of the Mayor's Fun Run and Ride on July 4 in Plattsburgh, will donate all proceeds from this event to the Hannah's Hope Fund. For more information on this event, check the website: http://www.NLrunners.com

Also, watch for a "Fox on the Run" interview on the local cable public-access channel, hopefully sometime in June.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 9:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

Not that I'm interested, but I accidentally came across an article at the Microsoft website that listed five "off-beat places that singles mingle." The first one was a spelling bee, so I knew that that list would be totally stupid. Another was on the commuter train. Closest we can come to that in the North Country is the CART bus. But that might work. I've never been on one.

Another tip on the list is to take a cooking class. With my luck it would be a male instructor and the class would be full of males looking for a place where singles mingle, and the only thing I'd get out of the class is another five pounds and a recipe for pickle relish.

Some cities have come up with some novel ideas for singles to meet. Like the "Date My Friend Party." That's where one of my friends, a female, invites a lot of her female friends over to her house to meet the single guy in the hopes that one of the forty female guests will hit it off with the guest of honor.

Not that I'm interested, but another novel idea is for a local grocery store to have an evening called "Singles Night." That's where singles mingle at the store for special cooking demonstrations, wine tasting and tips on how to select fresh veggies and fruit.

I have several friends who are single and they seem perfectly happy that way. I think they are very content to stay at home at night and watch sports on television with a cold one. By "cold one," I'm not referring to a wife. I mean a soda or brew.

Not that I'm interested, but if I were looking for another single to mingle with, I really wouldn't know where to look in the North Country. Some people have said that I should join a church congregation. I don't think all the praying in the world would help my situation.

About two years ago I went to a church on Sunday, a church I had never attended before, and a few pews away I saw my girl friend from fourth grade. I don't think she recognized me. She still looked about the same, taller than I and skinny. I look a lot different from when I was in fourth grade.

The natural thing to do if I really wanted to meet someone would be to go to a local bar. You never know who might wander in. The last time I tried that I spent a lot of time talking with Frank and John and Ed and Skip and Bob and ... well, you get the idea. Not one Delilah in the place.

Not that I'm interested, but it seems that it has become mighty difficult for a guy my age to find a proper single female for mingling. For a few years now, I've been attending sports events, community events and even a few school events. For a few years now, I've been grocery shopping, mall shopping and Farmers Market shopping. I'm beginning to think that some of my single male friends out there might never find a single with which to mingle.

I've even been out on a Saturday night at Peabody's and the Green Room, dancing up a storm until past midnight. But all of the singles there are about one-third my age with three times the energy. It feels funny to be dancing up a storm when you're the oldest guy in the place. And the music's so loud that mingling is at a minimum.

I guess there's just no hope for some of my single male friends. Maybe they should just get involved with politics or coach a team or write a blog. Until the North Country comes up with a good place for singles to mingle.

Not that I'm interested.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 5:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (12)

I'm a jolly good fellow. At least that's what the Chazy Central Rural School seniors sang to me on Friday, my last day of a six-week stint as their substitute English teacher. Chazy's Superintendent of Schools and High School Principal, Kevin Mulligan, concluded the morning homeroom announcements by asking the 54 seniors to report to the lobby of the school. The lobby was my morning post during homeroom time.

There I was face-to-face with my seniors for the last day. Mr. Mulligan led the seniors in the song "For He's A Jolly Good Fellow" while I took it all in with a smile. In my 35 years of teaching that was a first!

I didn't have any idea of what I was getting myself into when I was invited to teach at CCRS in the absence of English teacher Kathryn Brown, who had been badly injured in a car accident. The last time I had taught seniors was during my student teaching days in 1970. The schedule called for me to teach three senior English classes, including the Advanced Placement English Literature course, and two classes of seventh grade English.

I figured I could handle the seventh graders. Thirty-five years at Stafford Middle School was enough experience for that job. But those seniors! What would they be like? The first day, during my opening remarks in front of class, I noticed most of them were giving me the hairy eyeball. Who is this old guy with a ponytail? I kept hearing a "tick, tick, tick" while I tried to explain just who Foxy Gagnon is.

Then a little bell rang, and I noticed a small apple timer near my podium. Someone had set three of Mrs. Brown's apple timers - - a little welcoming initiation into Chazy Central. The seniors got a good laugh out of it and I took it with a grin, rather than firing the apples across the room.

As the days rolled by I became very comfortable teaching at Chazy Central. My morning greeting committee of Lacey and Harley were always friendly. Then Tyson started leaving first period with "Have a good day, Mr. Foxy!" And the seniors friendliness seemed to carry throughout the entire class.

One day I quietly strolled into the cafeteria, only to be greeted by a group of seniors who started cheering "Foxy, Foxy, Foxy!" And the next day seventh grader Brianna wrote on the board "Foxy Rules!" And then senior Jesse brought me a Medieval Times moist towelette for my collection, and Marie showed me a picture from her spring-break vacation: Foxy Wrapped Lettuce! I knew things were going okay.

While we wrapped up the unit on The Red Badge of Courage and took on other tasks and the book Nothing But the Truth, I started having fun with the seniors. They found out more about me, and my favorite certain someone, and some of them shared bits and pieces of their lives as well.

The AP course was full of serious work like poetry and essays. But I ruined that one day when my cellphone rang during class. As I headed for the door as I answered it, my friend on the other end kiddingly yelled, "Heyyyyyy, Baby!!!!!" I made it to the hallway amidst laughter and returned a minute later stating, "It was a wrong number." I know they didn't buy that story!

All the seniors at Chazy have a traditional senior project. The amount of work and committment to complete this project is almost overwhelming. But this is one school where seniors truly do earn their graduation diploma. No easy-street senior year at Chazy.

Even the seventh graders got into the act, with ten of them joining me for lunch most days. There's nothing quite like seventh grade conversation and it was a throwback to my good old days at SMS.

I could not have survived the six weeks without a great deal of help and advice from Steve Patnode, the dedicated librarian, who became my lifeline with the seniors. And my English department colleagues, Shari Fall and Erena Fulton, always managed to point me in the right direction and kept the paperwork flowing.

I have so much admiration for Kathryn Brown, who returns to her job this week. Even though she wasn't in school I know she was working every day, correcting papers, overseeing senior projects and formulating lesson plans. The AP course students even managed two conference calls with her from the CCRS Board Room. The students love her and will be very happy to have her back in the classroom.

No other North Country school has the Chazy tradition of walking to an assembly, each homeroom student single file and silent, led by a student carrying an American flag. First the senior class and then the other classes, in order. All remain silent as they arrive at the auditorium, waiting for the announcement for the pledge to the flag. It is an amazing tradition, begun when they are in kindergarten and carried on through their senior year.

In six weeks I found myself a second home at Chazy Central. The students, no matter the grade, and the faculty and staff were friendly and gave me a chance to just be myself. It might sound funny to say I'll miss them all, when I can now return to my quiet life of retirement, videotaping and eBay, but I really will miss many things about Chazy Central.

Among them:
Chad and Sara in the front row, keeping me organized

Franc's high-five in the hallway

Victoria's smile each day -- that Gaelan is one lucky dude!

Brandy's smile everyday 7th period while she sat with Chad at the computer in the library -- For some reason, Chad was always smiling too, as he'd yell, "Mr. Foxyyyyyyyyy!"

Secretary Nancy Vesco's smile for me each day as I signed in

The four guys at "the funniest table" in 12-1

The guys at the same table in 12-2 who learned my "Zzzzzzzzz" and "Gung" sounds and will probably toss them my way the next time they see me

The kidding I took from 12-2 because I have a "younger-than-I" eBay secretary

Talking about the Montreal Canadiens hockey playoffs with Kyle and the boys -- there are a lot of hockey fans at CCRS. Some of these guys probably eat hockey pucks for breakfast

As I left on Friday, my first goodbye hug was from seventh grader Victoria. My first senior class hug was from Andrea. I even left a few things behind, like an autographed business card and moist towelette for Nick.

And Nolan, the soccer guy, and I are now business partners on eBay. And Jay the Artist is my business partner, too, working on my new North Country Cable Network brochures.

Like any high school, Chazy is full of athletes and musicians and artists and nice people in general. But the friendliness of everyone stands out. Maybe it's because they all attend the same school from the first day of kindergarten until the final day of their senior year. The seventh graders look up to the seniors. Maybe it's because they are all a part of such a successful community.

As I headed out the door for the final time, I met senior Eric Martin. We shook hands. I remarked how friendly everyone was during my stay. He looked me in the eye and said, "That's a Chazy tradition!"

Thanks, Chazy Central!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 5:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

I've been thinking a lot about food lately. There are probably several reasons for this. I think it started about a month ago when I kept seeing these Red Lobster ads for "shrimp extravaganza" and other tasty seafood dishes. Those closeup shots of shrimp scampi, shrimp-kabobs, fried shrimp, butterfly shrimp, shrimp, shrimp, were just too much for me to handle.

I started cursing the fact that Plattsburgh once had a Red Lobster (and I was a frequent customer!) and we lost it. I wish we could get a franchise back. I know we have a great local seafood restaurant on the Military Turnpike, Mainely Lobster. I've been there many times. But there are just not the myriad choices offered by a Red Lobster.

Just like Olive Garden. I went to Burlington's Olive Garden not too long ago, and it has been on my mind since. That salad! That dressing! Endless salad. It may be my downfall if we ever get an Olive Garden. I've heard rumors that we will have an Olive Garden in Plattsburgh soon. I'll be there on opening night. Anyone want to accompany me?

I've always enjoyed dinner time. Since childhood my favorite Mom's meal was meatloaf, whipped potatoes and corn. I tried making homemade meatloaf but it didn't work. I didn't blend the ingredients enough and it came out all chunky with clumps of meat, bread crumbs and onions.

I've always enjoyed lunch time. To me, no matter what the season, lunch time means soup. What's lunch without soup? My all-time favorite is grilled cheese sandwich (white bread only, please, with three slices of cheese) and tomato soup. Toss a big pile of dill pickle slices on the side and I'm a happy man.

With barbeque season just around the corner I have been thinking of a nice sirloin steak on the grill. But with it I need potato salad. There are about twenty kinds of potato salad, but my favorite is simply potatoes, bits of onion and plenty of Hellman's Real Mayonnaise.

And while I'm on the food kick, do you ever watch those television food shows? There are at least twenty cooking shows, but my favorite chef, hands down, is Rachael Ray. I'd watch her make a peanut butter sandwich. She does her 30-minute meals and my own Hamburger Surprise recipe fits that plan. I'm sending her my recipe in hopes I'll score an appearance on her show.

I know I'm the last one who should be pointing out someone else's enlarging girth, but have you seen the famed chef Emeril Lagasse lately? Check out his television shows from his early TV days and you'll notice this guy is wearing much larger-sized chef's garb. His white-clad frame is filling the frame, so to speak. All those "bam"s are catching up to him.

I'd write more but I've worked myself into a hunger frenzy. Let's see ... plenty of leftovers in the fridge. I just can't wait any longer.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 9:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)