When I woke up Tuesday morning, I wasn’t really sure what the transit strike would mean for me. I knew that my usual Metro North trains would be running, and that I would be able to walk—like I usually do in good weather—from the train to work in about ten minutes. I sat watching the news for a few minutes and everything that they said seemed so terrible. I saw images of people walking over bridges, and complaining about every aspect of the city’s contingency plan. The part I found most humorous was parents complaining about how their children’s schools would open late—what am I to do with Johnny until 10:30?

New York City teachers were given a one hour grace period, which we all took to mean that you didn’t have to be at work until 9:30. Since I usually arrive in the building around 7:00 in the morning, I decided to take a later train, but still arrive by 8:15. When I did arrive I realized that the building was just as barren as it usually is when I arrive, and I would still have my quiet time to work alone. The only thing that I really found out of sorts was that most of the office staff had not yet arrived, so a security guard was answering the phones. She’s a funny, loud mouthed, southern Mama that usually tells you exactly what she is thinking; all the while calling you Boo (and speaking VERY LOUDLY!). She thought it outrageous that parents and children were calling to see what time school opened, “Don’t you have a TV? Don’t you watch it? Haven’t you seen there’s a strike? It’s all over the news on TV and the radio that you don’t have to come in at regular time! 10:30 Boo, and if you come earlier, don’t expect me to open the door and let you in!” After that conversation, she turned to me and revealed how dumb she thought the last caller was, and reminded me that these people live with the TV and radio on, how could they miss it? Then she rattled on about how all this just made her angry and not answer the phone anymore, but she still did. EVERY TIME!

Well after the first day, it seemed that everyone found their routine to get to work, and we quickly got accustomed to teaching only half a day, after having plenty of time to plan and hang out with your colleagues in the hour before the students arrived. Ahh the life! It was great while it lasted, especially since it was right before vacation and the kids were wild to begin with!

I read a few articles about the strike and its impact on various facets of life in the city that never sleeps, one of which was the negative impact the strike was having on attendance rates in public schools. I think that one report stated that high school attendance rates went down to 31%, middle schools to 66% and elementary schools to 70%. I think that my students threw off that curve! I had perfect attendance everyday of the strike. I joke around and call my homeroom class of seventh graders mailmen: through rain, snow, sleet, hail, and strikes, they call come to school on time! Got to love my little ones!

On Thursday afternoon we were singing a different tune though. With the possibility of the strike ending one day before our vacation was really a drag. Why did it have to end, it was so convenient for us! What were we supposed to do with kids for an entire day on Friday? Actually teach for eight periods?!? Oh… the horror! Well the strike did end on Thursday night, and despite our hopes and prayers, the transit system was up and running to full capacity by the Friday morning commute. We welcomed the children at 8:30, and it was back to business as usual.

Categories: Humor, Work
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I’ve crossed that most dangerous of thresholds: the six-month mark at the same hotel. One of the benefits of staying in a hotel is the novelty and sense of anonymity that comes with popping into a rented room for a few evenings. New surroundings, new faces, and the sense that you can do all those things your mom told you not to with some level of impunity. Behind the closed doors of your hotel room you can guzzle $8 mini-bottles of liquor while watching $12 movies, after throwing all manner of clothes and towels on the floor. All the while knowing everything will be cleaned, the mini bar restocked and new “single serving” bottles of shampoo at your disposal upon your return. Assuming the good folks at American Express continue to process the payments to your chosen lodging, you can leave like the thief in the night, with only a bill slipped under your door as evidence of your transgressions against goodness and decency.

The too-long stay on the other hand is a beast of a different stripe. It all begins with the people at the front desk starting to recognize you. First, a spark of recognition when checking in, and a quick glance at the Amex passed across the counter to verify a forgotten last name. Around the six month mark, pleasantries are exchanged, inquiries about the past weekend, and questions about wives and family members asked. “Would you like your usual room, Mr. Gray? How’s the wife?”

Then, you start getting to know the housekeeping staff, and suddenly find yourself cleaning up that mess of towels strewn about the bathroom each morning. A sideward glance from the staffer who fills the water cooler in the gym, and a remark like “Mr. Gray, haven’t seen you down in the gym in a few weeks” brings feelings of guilt and muttered excuses. Next thing you know, the room service guy is your best buddy, and the folks at the front desk are showing you pictures of their last vacation.

Perhaps it’s time I start looking for an apartment down here…

Categories: Travel
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The wedding has come and gone and it seemed like the time was right for a new theme, after being well-served by our “old look” for over a year. Please let us know what you think about the new theme, and bear with us as it updates over the next few days.

Categories: Site Updates
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This past weekend Meghan and I continued our trend of doing “nerdy newlywed things” and purchased our first family Christmas tree. We were set on a real Christmas tree, and prior to Saturday afternoon owned exactly one ornament. We set out to rectify that situation, along with several other people with similar ideas, and hit up Target.

A disagreement in strategy became evident as tree decoration shopping began, Meghan advocating a color coordinated tree, in Boston College maroon and gold, and her loving and ever-cheesy husband going directly for the large Santa’s, snowmen and other goofy stuff. After some debate, the lighting situation was resolved with classy yet colorful lights, and I was able to compromise with some Santa ornaments: cheesy, yetcolor- coordinated with the red part of the theme.

One of the highlights of Christmas when I grew up was the train set. Soon after Thanksgiving, for what seems like eons I would bug my father to setup the trains: one steam engine set from his childhood, and a more modern set that was mine. They were attached to an “official train board” (i.e. plywood with fake grass matting), and had a little village and corresponding cars and other accoutrements that complemented the setup. It’s been years since I’ve had a train set, and upon consultation with Meghan we determined no tree would be complete without a railroad of our own.

The aptly named Westchester Model Train Store was a small child’s paradise and our vendor of choice. New trains were boxed and stacked to the ceiling, and display models in all manner of sizes and genres setup in every corner of the shop. From an authentic NY Subway train, complete with graffiti and perhaps simulated urine smell, to all manner of steam engines and diesel locomotives. The employees were a bit wacky, as one might expect from grown men selling model railroads to earn their bread, but we picked a nice MTH Pennsylvania RR steam engine starter set, complete with locomotive, oil, and freight cards, and an illuminated caboose. I also added a car carrier car in honor of my Grandfather, who was a Caddy mechanic, which came complete with 4 1956 blue convertible Cadillac’s.

We spent Sunday setting everything up, while enjoying some eggnog and Christmas music. I must say I have not been this full of holiday spirit this early in the season for quite some time. Enjoying our tree and train, with a cup of “Christmas cheer” in hand made for a very special afternoon, one I’ll remember whenever I look at our appropriately cheesy “First Christmas 2005” ornament.

You can enjoy pictures (plus some footage of the train in action) in the usual spot: the gallery.

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