The Newell Post

Today marks the ninth anniversary of the passing of our dear friend, Vinny (AKA Father) Gorman.

Vinnie was one of our parish priests back in Blessed Sacrament in the Bronx. He, along with Father Dolan, would take us to the beach and other places to get us off the streets of the Bronx.

Later in life, we had the pleasure of taking Vinny and Maryann to the beach.

( A side note here. It was during this time that Vinny exhibited many symptoms of OCD. His obsession was getting a resident’s beach pass so that he could come and go even when we weren’t there. I don’t think it was the money as much as the thrill of the hunt. He lay in the high grass waiting for just the right teenager to take over the ticket booth, and then he would pounce. He never failed to get a pass.)

We used to kid Vinny and Maryann that they always seemed to magically appear at our doorstep when we were sitting down to Saturday breakfast, we said they could smell the bacon and made a dash.

One of the first times that we saw Vinny after so many years and long after he was at Blessed Sacrament, he and Maryann came out to see Aunt Mary, and they came over to our house. One thing you have to understand about Vinny, he was always smiling. When he wasn’t smiling he was, belly-laughing. You never could keep a straight face with him in the room.

During that first visit, I kept rehashing my Blessed Sacrament experience, which of course included, his. In the eighth grade Vinnie would come to our class once a week to teach religion. He always reminded us that there would one day be a test.

Sometime in the winter of 1964, we were given the test. Vinny called it his “Nutty Ned Test.” When I started reminding Vinny about it, he glowed and smiled like I had never seen anyone react before. I also reminded him of his challenge. He said that the student who had the highest mark would win $5. Then he added, almost in mocking sort of way, that if anyone had managed to get a 100, they would get $10.

Well, I did get the only 100 in the school, but Vinny reneged on his promise and gave me $5, and then he gave another student, let’s call her Mabel, another $5. I told him this was bull shit and wanted my additional $5 with interest.

Well, that only made him laugh more. But I was going to do something that would almost make him swoon right there in our living room.

I gave him my copy of the test.

He couldn’t believe it. I think it was a statement of the impact on our lives that he had. Why would anyone keep such a test? To me, it was a relic of a marvelous time with marvelous people. I think Vinny felt that too.

I didn’t hesitate and said he could keep the test, and I really believe that was the nicest thing I ever did for Vinny.

My kindness was repaid in so many ways. It wasn’t just the joy that he brought into our home every time he arrived. He was also a welcome sight in times of trouble.

In 2010, Eileen was diagnosed with breast cancer. She told me on the Tuesday after the 4th of July weekend. The following weekend Sean and Jeannine came out, Bryan was studying in London.

The weekend was going to be stressful as Eileen had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for that Monday, where a decision as to what to do next would be made.

I was not doing well. That morning Jeannine and Eileen went to the Farmer’s Market and I had a complete meltdown listening to Jimmy Buffet sing “Come Monday.” Jeannine and Eileen came home and could not enter the house as I had locked the door. I didn’t want anyone to see me in that condition.

A few hours later, as we were sitting around the living room, Vinny and Maryann appeared. Vinny wanted to pray with us.

Ironically, Vinny had not too long before this presided over Eileen and my renewal of vows. Now he would be praying for God’s mercy for us.

Vinny asked us to close our eyes, but Eileen didn’t. She kept her open eyes on me as I was in convulsions trying not to cry out loud.

Vinny concluded the prayer, and he and Maryann said they would be going home now. I pleaded with him to stay. I might have been crying when I did so, but anyway, he and Maryann did stay and helped us get through that weekend.

His loss was devastating to all who knew and loved him.

The comfort that we can give Maryann is to let her know how big a role they have had in our lives.

They provided joy.

I don’t know about you, but just writing these few words helped restore a little joy in my life. It’s good therapy and a lesson to us all. Neither Trump nor Corona can’t take away our hope and joy.

Remember, in our catechism, we learned about the three virtues: Faith; Hope, and Charity.

Vinny would be reminding us of that now.

God Bless Vinny.

The genius of America has been its “CAN DO” attitude. When JFK challenged us to put a man on the moon by the end of the  60s, there were some who shook their head and thought he was overreaching.

But, except for the lunatic doubters (a similar group to the anti-vaxers), most believed in Kennedy’s vision.

Today, in the middle of the pandemic, we have to remember that challenge and the other challenges in our history that made our nation what it is.

We will have a vaccine or treatment for this virus.

Sadly, it will come too late for many, but it will come.

We will return to complaining about our commute or about the high cost of gasoline, and the aisles at COSTCO will be abundant in their supply of toilet paper of many different qualities and plies.

We will continue to wash our hands regularly because, really, shouldn’t we have been doing that before all this started?

We will complain about our sports teams.

We will return to attending games and concerts and seeing movies on a really big screen while eating popcorn that couldn’t possibly be good for you.

I know this sounds a little like Of Mice And Men when Lenny was promised he would see the rabbits anytime soon now but life as we knew it will return.

Till then, we have to stay inside and enjoy each other’s company.

Stay in touch with friends utilizing the technology at our disposal. Texts, emails, Facetime.

Play games with the people you are sheltering with.

Write a damn blog for crying out loud!

Go to your music library and put a Corona Playlist together.

Stream good movies and re-read a favorite book. (Time for another read of Catch 22?)

Stop watching the news after a fifteen-minute update.

Try feeling grateful and maybe say a prayer or two.

Alright, that’s all I’ve got for the moment. But I’ll be back.

Be well. Stay safe.

I must have been nine years old. We had an electrical fire in Apartment Six of 1261 Leland Avenue. Pop put out the flames with flour. There was no substantial damage except that we lost electricity.

To a kid in the 50s, the loss of electricity meant no TV, no record player, but it was no TV that was the gamechanger. But my father had the answer.

First, he had a stockpile of what he called “plumbers” candles that provided our light. Then, he went out and bought a bunch of games and prizes that provided our family entertainment for the weekend that was no longer going to be long or boring.

We played cards (Crazy Eights primarily) and bingo and Monopoly and had snacks while we played. It was a great time, and I never missed TV for the entire weekend.

In fact, when we finally got our power back on Sunday afternoon, I wasn’t at all excited and wanted to continue playing games, which we did.

On another occasion, when my family was facing another crisis, games weren’t the vehicle that brought us together. This time it was prayer.

It was October in 1962. I was now twelve years old and in the seventh grade. The crisis that faced my family was not a loss of power but a fear of the use of power.

The Soviet Union was engaged in a game of chicken with the United States. Premier Khrushchev was calling President Kennedy’s bluff.

The Soviet Union sent nuclear missiles to Cuba, and Kennedy told Kruschev to knock it off.

On the night when things were getting tense, my mother led the family in the Rosary, on our knees.

We prayed for Divine Intervention when we were facing total annihilation, and we were granted salvation.

I am not sure which story applies more to our current situation.

Perhaps both apply equally.

At a time when many of us are forced to stay inside our homes, a little fun time with our family might be just what the doctor ordered.

Then, too, a little praying wouldn’t hurt.

It would be a foul thing altogether if the Covid virus only served to sicken and kill us. Let us hope that a side effect of this dreaded virus is that we all will resolve to forget about our differences much as Covid seems to.

We are all in this together, subject to the same effects of this disease. We are all frightened because we don’t know what the endgame looks like. The one thing I think is for certain is that we will not escape its effects unchanged.

Let us hope the change is for the better.

My faith tells me it will be.

Where we all have complained about the cost of healthcare, we now worry that our healthcare providers will stay well and have what they need to cure us.

Where we have all complained about the cost of food and going out to restaurants, maybe we will grow to savor those experiences and to applaud those who provide their service to us.

Despite the call for social distancing, I never talked to so many people (at a safe distance) commenting on our plight but with a joyful tone and sharing a smile and stay safe wishes.

A reminder, social distancing can be overcome by technology. Use your phone and computer to reach out to friends, old and new. Keep in touch with family by sending those annoying texts that we all love.

Cherish the people in your life and keep washing your hands while acknowledging that you are helping them stay safe.

Peace and love were words Baby Boomers used back in the day, and we need to say that today more than ever.

Peace and Love and share the joy while you show compassion and concern.

The Great Depression changed America forever. It changed it for the better thanks to Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

The Great Depression even changed Inauguration Day. George Washington was first installed as our first President on April 30, 1789. Thereafter, Inauguration Day would be March 4th.

The last President to be inaugurated on March 4th was Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who was inaugurated for the first time on March 4, 1933.

Because the economy suffered during the time of the election in 1932 through the winter of 1933, Congress changed the date of Inauguration Day to January 20th.

When FDR was inaugurated on March 4, 1933, he uttered those fateful words: “So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is…fear itself…”.

We should remember these words and live our lives by them.

It’s easy to get overwhelmed by the increasing numbers of coronavirus victims and fatalities. How could you not after listening to the men and women of science detail the potential of this pandemic?

It’s easy to polarize into two extremes: those who doubt the evidence and believe this is no more than a common cold or flu and those who believe we are all doomed.

To me, it’s easier to remember Franklin Delano Roosevelt reassuring a terrified nation facing economic ruin by simply saying, “…the only thing we have to fear…is fear itself.”

With apologies to Paul Simon.

Where have you gone, Franklin Delano Roosevelt?

Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you>

Ok, I think I have been on Coronavirus Information Overload for a month. Well, I have been a moderate germaphobe but not OCD about it. When the flood of information started overwhelming us, we were given some guidelines.

Basically, the bulk of our population would be able to weather this outbreak without fear or worry. It is very contagious but does not to be life-threatening to most people.

However, there are some who are at high risk and should avoid anyone who has contracted the virus.

The high-risk groups are: the elderly (Check); people who have a chronic medical condition including cancer (Check); and people with a compromised immune system (Check). The trifecta.

In the immortal words of Alfred E. Neuman, “What… me worry?”

Here are some helpful and healthful hints that I have included in my Coronavirus survival strategy.

I only watch the news for two or three five minute updates.

I ignore posts on Facebook and Twitter that are not helpful to my psyche.

I read the newspaper but spend more time doing the crossword puzzle.

I listen to the mass at St. Patrick’s on SiriusXM radio.

Quite honestly, that is as much as I can accomplish because the rest of the time I am washing my hands.

Look, I am doing my best, as I am sure you are to get through this, but I really do believe a positive attitude is the best vaccine that we can administer. Getting bummed out and worrying about all the uncertainties about this disease will serve no useful purpose.

When I was going through chemo in 2000, and again in 2007, I tried to be positive and laughed, and watched West Wing and Yankee baseball and downplayed the ordeal, I was going through. Of course. I could have been in denial, and I know my family and friends were not fooled by my reaction.

Nevertheless, I did survive.

I am confident that I will survive this too.

And I pray to God that all of you and all of my loved ones will be here with me.

I am baking my St. Patrick’s Day soda bread as I type. Getting used to baking with gas after thirty-three years using electric ovens posed a challenge that I think I have overcome. So, my advice is to make sure your bread is done by inserting a toothpick in the center of the bread just to ensure that it is done. The next issue is how to serve the finished product.

I always loved the first piece that my mother would give me nearly right out of the oven. It was hot and melted the butter to a glorious topping for any fine bread. Jam and marmalade of course make a delicious alternative, but always on top of the butter and always after the first piece.

That’s my habit but you are welcome to enjoy your technique for eating your own slice of Heaven..

Enjoy and eat well.

Every culture that has sent its representatives to our grateful shores has, along with hard-working people who had dreams of a new life and guts of cast iron, given America its language, folklore but, most of all, food. This morning our subject is Irish Soda Bread.

I have always viewed Irish Soda Bread the way my Italian friends thought of gravy, what we call sauce. Just as any self-respecting Italian would rather go hungry than be forced to eat pasta covered in Ragu, so, too, do I have my standards when it comes to Irish Soda Bread for no two soda breads are ever alike.

No matter how nice they look in their bakery wrapper, and regardless of the wonderful aroma that permeates the bakery, when you get the bakery-bought Irish Soda Bread home and attempt to slather it with butter, well, let’s just say it sucks. Supermarket Irish Soda Bread may suck even more. The only recourse true Irish Soda Bread Aficionados have is to only eat homemade Irish Soda Bread. But even here one must tread carefully. There are a lot of wannabes out there, but Jimmy is here to help you. Take this down:

Lizzie McHugh’s Irish Soda Bread Recipe

First. My Mother never had a recipe. She winged it. One day when Eileen and I were still living in New Rochelle, I called her for her recipe. She obliged, and I baked. I love having the first piece when the bread is still piping hot and the butter melts right into it. I didn’t love it this time. It didn’t even taste as good as a supermarket bread. I called her back and told her. She was confused and had me repeat what I had done. “I never said a tablespoon of sugar, you need at least a third of a cup.” Ok, I wrote the corrected recipe down and made a terrific Irish Soda Bread, just like Momma’s. Here it is for your baking and eating pleasure:

Ingredients

Combine

3 1/2 cups of flour

2/3 cup of sugar

3 tsp baking powder

1/4 tsp baking soda

1-tbsp caraway seeds (I like more I’m just saying)

1/2 half box of raisins

2 eggs

Buttermilk

2tblsps-melted butter

Beat the two eggs and add butter (let melted butter cool down) and enough buttermilk to bring the total mixture to 2 cups.

Add the liquid and dry mixtures and combine and place into a greased baking pan, round or loaf.

Put into a pre-heated 350-degree oven and bake for about an hour. Ovens vary so I would check at the 50-minute mark.

Let cool…but not that long as there is nothing on Earth quite like a warm piece of Irish Soda Bread.

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day everybody.

First of all, thank God for iTunes, Netflix, Prime Video, and Acorn.

I guess we could all read books too, but it’s nice knowing we have video alternatives. I have a nice collection of recent Yankee World Series wins as well as a collection of the New York Rangers Stanley Cup run in 1994. Of course, YouTube is always there to provide us what we don’t already own.

On a more serious note, I just did a TP review, and I think we are fine. I would guess we have over 20 rolls, so we won’t be having to wait on a Costco line for that. We also have water.

Quite frankly, the run on TP (if I can use that expression) and water is a bit confusing. From what I have heard and read, I did not think that frequent bathroom trips or thirst were high on the symptoms list of Corona. Nevertheless, some people must have heard differently.

My only clinical suggestion to survive our current ordeal is to stay away from cable news and broadcast TV. If you have to watch cable TV, try the cooking shows.

If you are lucky enough to still own your vinyl LPs, listening to them will rekindle happier times when you had a real need for binge buying and eating. A little Jethro Tull and the Moody Blues will restore the state of optimism that sustained you throughout the 1970s. You may also want to set your black and white TV to a non-broadcast channel while listening to the soundtrack of 2001 A Space Odyssey.

Those little specks of light twinkling on the black screen are actually cosmic noise originating at the Big Bang.

Oh, for a bottle of Bali Hai!

I have been off Facebook for a while. I also got off Twitter but have since returned. Primarily I abandoned social media because it was anything but.

Now, as I mentioned, I have come back to Twitter, but I have overcome the Kryptonite of hate-inspired tweets by using my Superpower of Deletion.

Well, on Twitter, you delete by blocking.

Facebook offers a similar strategy for combating the inane and annoying. You simply De-Friend the offender.

Recently I have visited Facebook once again, and while I haven’t had the need to de-friend just ye,t I have taken to the lesser superpower of ignoring the inane and annoying.

It’s like keeping Fox News (or if you prefer MSNBC) off your favorite channel list but requiring a more satisfying effort to send the miscreant to the phantom zone of the etherworld.

So, my advice to anyone who has suffered the pain and anguish of stupid posts and tweets is to delete, ban, block, de-friend. Banish them to Bogey Land.

Such an action was anticipated in the US Constitution. Free Speech is indeed a marvelous gift that the Founding Fathers provided, but along with the right to speak freely comes the equally powerful right to ignore.

So, as Thomas Jefferson and James Madison might be opining today, when in the course of human events, you are subjected to the inane and annoying, delete, de-friend, block.

It is our right. It is our privilege. It is our duty.

One last thing, feel free to delete, de-friend, or otherwise block me.

That’s your right too.

So here we are in the midst of another leap year celebration. February 29th! It seems like it was only four years ago that we were last celebrating. Of course, then, in 2016, leap year only served to prove that Phil the Groundhog was wrong as winter was even more prolonged than it usually is.

This year, however, I am first celebrating a Floridian Leap Year, which is a grand occasion to rejoice that summer will not start as early as the year before.

An extra day of winter is just what the weatherman ordered for a state that has two hundred ninety degree days and what appears to be a summer season that extends to Black Friday.

I am exaggerating, but it is Leap Year Saturday, and I won’t get the opportunity for another four years.

The whole concept of a leap year is a bit confusing and disheartening. No one could come up with an accurate calendar or even a precise measurement of a day. I was shocked to learn that our whole concept of time is an approximation and that to create the illusion that our calendars and timepieces are precise, we have to create an extra day once every four years to narrow the gap in our precision.

It kind of reminds me of the difficulty the National Football League has been having in defining what a catch is. It always seemed an easy thing for my friends and me to describe, but the NFL has been tinkering with the concept for several years, and still, no one can accurately explain to me when a receiver has actually caught a ball.

How can we ever have peace in the middle east if we can’t even get that straightened out?

Anyway, a nagging question that I have always had but never dared to ask is how do leap year birthday people celebrate their birthdays?

Well, of course, today is their birthday, so Happy Birthday to you all.

My question pertains to last year and next year, for example.

Do you celebrate March 1st? That seems to be a logical assumption, but why not February 28th?

I think I would alternate between the two. I would rationalize that you can’t be born the day before you were born and so March 1st is the better choice. Nevertheless, if I were actually born in February, I would want a February birthday because I have all that birthstone jewelry.

It’s a conundrum, to say the least. But it is a far more enjoyable conundrum than say wondering if I should be taking that trip to England and Ireland in the face of the Coronavirus?

So, enjoy the leap everybody.