Where We Are Wanted

 

We the people of these United States pause today to observe Thanksgiving, which in spite of its undisputed status as the first-celebrated American holiday has been reduced to road apple status - a mere speed bump on the hyperbolic consumer superhighway that connects Halloween and Christmas.  

Maybe, just maybe, Thanksgiving's intrinsic value has experienced an uptick in the years since "Covid-19" entered the lexicon as we have been reminded (or in the case of far too many of our obtuse fellow countrymen, have finally learned) of the true fragility of Life's fabric.  A thin line exists not simply between life and death and, also, between love and hate.  It exists as well between community and isolation and, also, between hope and despair.  

However, wherever, and with whomever you spend your Thanksgiving, if upon opening your eyes this morning and closing them tonight you are doing so in a place where you are wanted, then you are home.  Your promise to yourself as well as to those you love and who love you is to never take that feeling for granted and, instead, to work every day to honor that feeling and to earn it.  

That feeling of belonging is precious because of its capacity to fill us up more heartily than the inhalation of turkey, sweet potatoes, stuffing, and pecan pie ever will.  Unfortunately today, like yesterday and tomorrow, does not carry with it a guaranteed feeling of belonging - a guaranteed feeling of home.  If you are a lucky one, then be mindful of the fact that not everyone is - including but not limited to people with whom you deal in your day-to-day, and act accordingly.  It costs nothing to be kind.  And by being so, you might just help someone who otherwise would not have, find their way home.  Today, of all days, is that not where we all long to be? 

Happy Thanksgiving. 

-AK 

The Nessman Cometh

Today is Turkey Run Day in ‘Squan.  One of life’s delicious ironies is that in the days of yore when I was a far better and faster runner than I now am, this race was known as the Turkey Trot.  Now as I am more of a trotter than I am a runner, it has a new sobriquet.  

The forecast today calls for conditions that can fairly be called “brisk”.  The conditions will likely have a negligible impact on the hundreds of us running or the hundreds lining the streets of Manasquan cheering us on and plying us with adult beverages.  Little known fact:  Beer is not available to World Cup fans in Qatar but is available on the Turkey Run race course.  ‘Merica for the win! 

Once upon a time my goal used to be to finish this five-mile jaunt in forty minutes or less.  Now?   I have a more realistic goal, which is to avoid doing my impression of a sack of wet cement.  If I make it back to Leggetts without anyone mistaking me for a rain-soaked bag of Sakrete, I will put today in the “Win” column.  

Regardless of finishing time and irrespective of the conditions, today shall be a terrific day.  It is a great event for a great cause.  It is also an excuse to get together with old friends, including several who the Missus and I have not seen for some time.  A hell of a nice way to spend a mid-November Saturday at the Shore.   

However, wherever, and with whomever you spend it, enjoy your day.  Remember, be careful out there.

-AK

Mission Accomplished

Just two days ago, I wrote in this space about Jon Auty's mission in the 2022 TCS New York City Marathon.  The seventy-eight-year-old retired attorney from North Haledon, New Jersey was making his first trip across the five boroughs in forty years.  And he was doing it to honor the memory of his "absolutely perfect wife", Bev, who cancer took, in October 2021, from her husband of fifty-four years and her family.

If it was easy, then anyone could do it.  I know from personal experience just how readily that adage applies to running a marathon.  So does Jon Auty. 

It took him eight hours to complete the race on Sunday but complete it he did.  He began his journey under warm, muggy conditions on Staten Island at 11 am.  He ended it under the cover of darkness in Central Park at 7 pm.  He ended it in the company of fifty-four-year-old Tommy Mitchell of Atlanta, Georgia.  The two kept one another company, and served as one another's inspiration, for the final fifteen miles.   They crossed the finish line together, hands joined, and arms upraised. 

Tommy Mitchell and Jon Auty 

NYC Marathon Finish Line

November 6, 2022

He ran.  He walked.  He crawled.  He made it.  His commitment to keeping his promise to Bev triumphed over his own feelings of mental anguish and physical discomfort.  

-AK 

Providing Oars For The Grief Boat

We're all in this grief boat with no oars.

Just uncharted waters for all of us. 

-D'Ann Auty Vermilye 

I had not intended to watch any portion of today's New York City Marathon.  The bitter taste of last year's unqualified disaster, in which I dropped out at the 15K mark and added an embarrassing "DNF" (2021) to my three finishes in 2015, 2016, and 2017, remains too fresh in my mouth.  

However, upon reading this story in the Star-Ledger earlier this week about the tribute that seventy-eight-year-old Jon Auty of North Haledon, New Jersey and his daughter, D'Ann Auty Vermilye, are paying to his wife/her mother, Bev.  Today, they are both running the Marathon as a member of Fred's Team.  Bev, to whom Jon Auty was married for fifty-four years, died last fall after a six-month battle with cancer.   

Jon Auty last ran the New York City Marathon forty years ago.  He enjoyed the experience so much that he vowed to never do it again.  As it turns out, "never" never stood a chance in its battle against the memory of Bev, Jon Auty's "absolutely perfect wife".  Nor should it have. 

The Auty family has spent more than their fair share in the grief boat this past twelve months.  Although today's Marathon will likely not permit them to retire their grief boat to drydock, it shall provide them with the oars necessary to make the remainder of their voyage just a bit easier.  

-AK

It’s Mo Time

One year ago today, I was packing an overnight bag for my trip into the City with the Missus for my participation in the 2021 TCS New York City Marathon.   Or as I like to call it, the New York City 15K for I made it only 9.3 miles before I came off the course, which I did in Brooklyn.   

This year, having come to terms with the fact that I am no longer Marathon-worthy, I have devised a different way to make November worthwhile.  I am taking part in Movember, which I have always understood to be a fundraiser in which the clean shaven grow (or try to grow) a mustache for charity.  As someone whose beard and mustache have occupied space on my face for thirty years or so, I had always felt left out.  Not any longer.  

Apparently this year a wrinkle was added to Movember.  Now both the presently-mustached and the eternally baby-faced can do our part without having to grow a ‘Stache.  I am.  I am running sixty miles over course of this month to raise money for this fundraiser, which is geared towards “guy” health issues including various forms of cancer.  

If the mood moves you to help out and you do not want to run, then you can check out my fundraising  page, which is:   https://us.movember.com/mospace/14927076.  

Fats and I thank you for your support.  

-AK 

The Lost Art of Conversation

You have to take your mind there

And hope that your ass will follow.

You’ve got to imagine that person first

Before you become him.

Once you have the ability to do it,

Then you need the skills

To become that person.  

-Bruce Springsteen

It is not my responsibility to recruit subscribers for the corporate overlords who operate SiriusXM.  That being said, if you are not a subscriber then you have likely missed out on what was nothing short of an extraordinary couple of hours of live radio on Monday morning.  

For the first time in their respective careers, Bruce Springsteen sat down face-to-face with Howard Stern on Monday morning at the SiriusXM studios in Manhattan.  If I understood correctly what Rob had told me a couple of weeks ago, Monday marked Howard’s first time in the studio since the pandemic began in early 2020.  He spent more than two hours conversing with Bruce.   To my ear, it was nothing short of sensational.  My great friend Lynne used the word “historic” to describe it.  I am inclined to agree with her.  

The two discussed pretty much anything and everything you could think of during the two-plus hours they spent together, during which Bruce played acoustic versions of several songs including “Thunder Road”. He and Howard both spoke of their strained relationships with their late fathers.  Bruce reacted with genuine sympathy when Howard told him that his dad had died this summer.  They bonded as well over their respective self-identifications as a Mama’s boy.   

It was an extraordinary listen.  If you have the chance to hear it, then I hope you avail yourself of it.  We live in a day and age where we talk at, around, and over one another with alarming frequency.  It was nice to be reminded, instead, of how enjoyable it is - and how much can be learned - when we talk to and with one another.  

-AK

 

Long May We Roar

From 2009 through 2018, Sue's Crew rumbled, stumbled, and bumbled our way through a breast cancer-related 5K.  Sue's Crew was/is a tremendous example of something terrific arising out of something awful.  In our case, the "something awful" was the June 2, 2009 death of Susie B., Margaret's mom.   By the time we made it to 2017, the names of two other heroes, Diana Kizis (a/k/a "Hazel") and Mom (a/k/a "Joanie K.") joined Susie B.'s on our official race shirt. 

Susie B. 

June 2, 2009

Diana Kizis (a/k/a "Hazel")

June 6, 2014

Joanie K. (a/k/a "Mom")

June 3, 2017 

A few weeks ago, an e-mail popped up in my in-box for the 4th Annual Team ROAR 5K at Duke Island Park in Bridgewater.  In the interest of full disclosure, I am constrained to admit that until I saw the e-mail I had never heard of the event, let alone the fact that it was its fourth annual edition.  As is often the case, my lack of familiarity with it was my loss.  It is an extraordinary event.  Its genesis is the far-too-young death from metastatic breast cancer in 2017 of Donna Karlis.  She was only forty-two years old.   

Sunday was simply a gorgeous late October day.   Duke Island Park, as it turns out, is a beautiful place to run.  Whether it was the weather, the underlying purpose of the race (raising money for metastatic breast cancer research), or something else altogether I know not.  All I know is that I ran the best 5K time I had run in more than four years.  The Missus and I represented Sue's Crew and had a great, great morning.  

We retired Sue's Crew after its tenth edition (or "X"th edition for all you Roman numeral fans out there) in 2018.  If we are to revitalize it, and restore it to active status in 2023, then I believe Margaret and I found the event in which to do it.   

-AK