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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

It was quite an honor to be invited, since the teachers had won the championship the summer before. I had to pass, though, that first summer, because I was serving my military commitment at Fort Dix, New Jersey. Somehow the team still did very well without me in the summer of '71.

When the summer of '72 rolled around I made my debut with the teachers' team. Baseball had been my strong suit in high school, so I figured hitting that big fat softball would be a piece of cake. How wrong I was. A baseball swing in a softball game will get you nothing but fly balls to the outfied. In softball, if you don't have the power to put it over the fence, you need to hit line drives. That took quite an adjustment.

But even though I only hit about .200 my first season, I had a ball. I also watched some of the top softball players in the North Country, guys who could hit a line drive up the middle with their eyes closed. My teammates Ray Lalonde and John "Nick" Nicotera were two of the best. They could look one way and hit it the other way. If the defense shifted one way, they just waited and poked a line drive to the opposite field.

At the age of seven I started collecting baseball cards. That's a hobby that never stopped. I still can't resist buying the latest Topps baseball card packs and seeing who's inside. Of course, the price sure has changed. From a penny or a nickel when I was a kid to the current $2.99 for a Topps regular pack of baseball cards.

I also began an autograph collection at the age of 12. I would write to baseball players each weekend, asking for an autographed picture. That's another collection that I continued into adulthood, and, now that I'm almost sixty years old, I have a very valuable autograph collection of such great players as Jackie Robinson, Mickey Mantle, Ted Williams, Pee Wee Reese, Gil Hodges, Roger Maris and, of course, our local hero, Johnny Podres.

As I kid I also collected comic books for awhile, but never built a very big collection. I also went through a year of collecting stamps. I used to buy stamps from those comic book ads offering "100 cancelled stamps for 99 cents!"

Too many finely-tuned athletes are getting injured. These guys play under the finest playing conditions. Money is no object when it comes to grooming fields. They go through spring training, supposedly to get back in shape after a winter of sitting around. Each team has an expert trainer and assistant, all graduates of notable colleges around the country. Some teams have conditioning coaches, strength coordinators and aerobic instructors.

Yet, here we have players like Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriquez pulling muscles with strange names. We have the National League's 2007 Most Valuable Player, Jimmy Rollins, not an ounce of fat on him, on the disabled list with an ankle injury. Alfonso Soriano, who looks like he'd have trouble lifting his suitcase, is on the disabled list with a calf strain. Razzle-dazzle pitcher Dontrelle Willis has a hyperextended right knee. Pedro Martinez is out with a hamstring strain. And the list goes on.

I'll tell you what. A week ago I think I pulled something in my back as I was hurrying down the hallway to the cafeteria. I finished the day, and I'm showing up for work tomorrow. I'll just walk a little slower when it's time for lunch.

Hey, Mickey Mantle could have spent his whole career on the disabled list. Instead, he taped up those swollen knees and hobbled out to center field and ran after fly balls even though his legs were killing him. Players in those days played because if they put up good enough numbers then they might get a raise and not have to work during the off-season. If the numbers were down or even the same, they were in line for a pay cut.

Ever hear of a player today getting a pay cut?

When Pope John Paul II visited the United States, he spent time in Washington, D. C. and New York City, as well. So did Pope Paul VI back in the Sixties. I'm just a little worried that our holy popes might be stuck in a rut. After all, there is a lot more to our country than the White House, the United Nations and Yankee Stadium.

Pope Benedict is the sixth pope in my lifetime. When I was born, the pope was Pope Pius XII. From 1958-1963 it was Pope John XXIII. During my high school and college years our pope was Pope Paul VI. Then, you might recall, we had the short time of Pope John Paul I, who was elected and died in 1978. Pope John Paul II served from 1978-2005, and now Pope Benedict XVI has been our pope since 2005.

The first annual "Race for Stace" 5K Walk/Run will take place at the U.S. Oval on April 26 in memory of Stacey Frechette, who died last year in a car accident. Just 24 years old, Stacey was a teacher at Mooers Elementary School. The Stacey Lynn Frechette Scholarship Fund awards $1500 to a deserving local high school senior and gymnast. Stacey had been a standout gymnast at Seton Catholic Central, where she won six Section VII and Champlain Valley Athletic Conference titles. She later competed in gymnastics at SUNY-Brockport.

Stacey's longtime friend, Jen Boyer, is the organizer of the 5K Walk/Run. If you can make the event and take a walk in Stacey's memory, that would be great. I'll see you there.

On May 2 it's the 15th annual Clinton County Senior Celebration. This year's event will take place at the center at 5139 North Catherine Street in Plattsburgh. Fun entertainment and great food highlight the day. Among the performers will be the YMCA Line Dancers, the legendary RSVP Kitchen Band and, later in the day, the rock and roll and classic country music of the Castaways. Doors open at 8:30am and the fun continues till the final song at 4pm.

On Saturday, May 4, the North Country Ballet Ensemble will present "A Delicate Balance" at the Hartman Theatre on the campus of Plattsburgh State. Working with the NCBE last fall with "The Nutcracker" performance was an enjoyable experience, and the organization has invited me back to videotape the May performance.

This day my toes would be free, I thought. For me, a sign of the changing of the seasons. A rite of passage ... into the short spring and wonderful summers of the North Country. All day yesterday there was an extra spring in my walk. I smiled at strangers and waved to friends, and even to those who might someday be friends.

It felt good. In fact, it was the best I had felt in months. Maybe it's been the winter doldrums that got me down. Maybe it was the three-times-around battle with the flu bug, or bronchitis bug, or whatever bug. Maybe it was cabin fever.

No matter. Yesterday I felt young again. Yesterday I felt like working. Accomplishing. And socializing. I think it was all in the sandals. Sandals have a way of giving you a whole new attitude. And by the end of the day the temperature was in the 60s.

So that's why at the end of the day I visited a favorite pub for the first time in months. Even at four in the afternoon there was still a spring in the old Fox's step. Still a smile on my face. Even though my summer ponytail was a bit bedraggled.

Our dads told us that Pete Blumette had been a professional baseball pitcher and that he was a really nice guy. Whenever he visited our playground he would gather all of us kids together and talk with us. I remember he spoke in a soft kind voice and he treated us really nice.

Indeed, Pete "Lefty" Blumette pitched in the Eastern League and the International League, one step below the major leagues, prior to World War II. In the late 1940's he pitched in the minor leagues for teams in Canada. Listed as 6'2" and 220 pounds, the southpaw Blumette had some great seasons in the minor leagues and played alongside and against many future major leaguers.

And, Sal Righi, was a school teacher by trade, who would leave school at the end of the day, take off his tie and put on his blue jeans, and work just about full-time for the City Recreation Department. Sal can tell you many stories about his days working for the city, and he saw many changes during his working days.

When I hurriedly wrote my April 1st blog this morning before heading off to school, I had no idea that I would get so much enjoyment at the end of the day. Once again, the Blogoteers rose to the occasion.

My April Fool's Day joke didn't fool everyone, but it caught many readers off guard. No one jumped off a bridge or jumped in front of an Amtrak, but many Blogoteers wished me well or came up with alternatives so that the On the Sly blog might somehow stay alive.

My April Fool's Day hoax did lead to some heartfelt comments and even a few identity confessions. But how could I ever stop writing this blog after reading such wonderful comments by my band of Blogoteers? I had no idea how many people consider me part of their day. I had no idea that even after 300 blogs the blogosphere wants more!

When I returned to my home after a day on the job, I sat at my computer and found messages from 7:36am and throughout the day. More comments in an eight-hour time span than I had ever received. The messages were from Saratoga and Albany and Florida, from Saratoga Court to Rugar Street to Cumberland Head. From mid-town to the mid-West. Even one from England!

I grinned and chuckled and then guffawed. The more comments I read, the more I laughed. Thank you to all for such a fun April Fool's Day.

I was going to keep my hoax going for a few more days, in hopes my bosses on the editorial staff might be coerced into upping the ante to keep me writing On the Sly. But I felt that by the end of the day, the truth should be told.

With this blog, I've started on my next 300. I hope you'll stay with me for the trip.

Since then I've written about my life, my family's life and given my opinions on topics ranging from food to dating. I've been joined by a group of very interesting contributors, the Blogoteers. Some Blogoteers knew me before On the Sly, and some didn't. The Blogoteers range in age from teens to their eighties, and they come in all shapes and sizes. They are from all parts of the United States and some are even from Canada. One that I know of resides in England. I'm grateful for their help over the past 299 blogs, and I'm hoping they'll add some input one last time.

You see, I've decided that #300 will be the final edition of On the Sly. There are several reasons for this decision. It's not always easy to come up with topics, that is for sure. Sometimes I have sat in front of my computer and stared at my screen for hours, trying to come up with something that might be entertaining or insightful.

I've noticed I've started to repeat myself, having said the same thing in Blog #87 or Blog #165. Maybe, plain and simple, I've run out of topics. I'm also very busy, videotaping local events, entertaining friends who like to visit, and, lately, I've come out of retirement and returned to teaching.

But there are two other major league stadiums that I've enjoyed. In 1991 I took my son Erik to Shea Stadium. He had officially become a New York Mets fan in 1986 at the age of eight, when the exciting Mets stole the World Series from the Boston Red Sox. Or, maybe the Red Sox gave that one away.

Nevertheless, a friend worked in the front office for the Mets that season and he offered some complimentary tickets. I was also lucky enough to be issued a media pass so that I could be on the field prior to the game. I had an opportunity to take some great souvenir photos while on the field, and briefly chatted with Mets' star second baseman Gregg Jefferies.

We were given excellent seats on the first base side and enjoyed the Mets victory that day. Erik broke into his piggy bank and bought some Mets memorabilia. Shea was a fun place to watch a game, especially when a Met homers and the Big Apple rises out of the Mets top hat in center field.