Waiting for 22

My daughter’s last prom is imminent. We’ve been fortunate to date to inherit prom dresses from my god-daughter for the last two go-rounds. And boy, am I grateful for that. Why? Well, the cost factor was a definite perk. But the real saving grace was something I didn’t even realize. Until yesterday.

Yesterday was our prom dress shopping day. I was looking forward to it. A day with my daughter. And as any mom, and sometimes dad, of a prom-going daughter apparently knows, Boom Babies is the place to go.

I love the Westcott Street vibe and am a fan of the store’s cool jewelry. But when we stepped through the door, what we encountered was a Boom Babies I didn’t recognize.

Although advertised to open at 11, when we got there a little before what we thought was opening time, a big sign on the door read “We’re Open” and the store was already PACKED. Wall to wall moms and daughters. Dads and daughters. And boyfriends and their dates.

Some families had traveled some distance. One from Canajoharie.

And a young man upon entering the store took one look around and said, “I’m scared of this place.”

And I couldn’t have agreed more. Girls snagged dresses up to the 10-item limit all around us and there was little room to move. We were given a number – 22- and shopped as best we could till our number was called: nearly two hours later.

I do want to mention here that Boom Babies is staffed by super-efficient, well-trained, helpful employees. They give advice, grab additional dresses for you, and even offer location-based alteration recommendations. They have a policy requiring a one dress-color per school limit and keep a record of all sales. As someone who never attended a prom, I didn’t realize the significance of this, but my daughter stressed to me that this was of the utmost importance.

Meg and I had made pact to have fun and not argue – something that has been known to happen now and again when shopping together - and we stuck to it despite the frenzied atmosphere.

We even had a good time and found the perfect dress. Let me tell you, as your number gets closer and then you hear it called, the excitement builds and it’s like winning the lottery. I even let out a loud whoop when I heard “22”.

And after all was said and done, I was glad that we got to experience a rite of passage here in Syracuse. I’m also glad I only had to do it once!

 

Good Friends are Hard to Find....

http://obits.syracuse.com/obituaries/syracuse/obituary.aspx?n=colleen-h-mastine&pid=155873710

Good friends are hard to find. And even harder to lose.

I write this with a heavy heart as I mourn the passing of a truly kind, loyal and selfless person. Those descriptors may sound cliche, yet anyone who knew Colleen Hassett Mastine knows these are simply the facts.

Col has been part of my life for 20 years or so and had a heart that was always giving. There are not many people we can sincerely say that about.

She didn't have the easiest life but she was a fighter and survivor and a great role model.

Col had a way of gently twisting my arm to get me to do the right things. She was a genius when it came to convincing me to volunteer my PR skills on behalf of the community causes she held dear. She introduced me to the moms who fought to establish Casey's Place - a place where developmentally challenged kids can go to have fun with other kids while their parents get a needed break from the rigors of caregiving. Helping them get this wonderful place in the public eye was a lifechanging experience for which I am forever grateful to Colleen.

I had the honor of working with her in the State Senate, and as a constituent services director she worked tirelessly to help seniors, veterans, moms of disabled kids, and anyone else who needed a champion.

She was a beamingly proud and dedicated mom, grandma, aunt and sister. Though I have never met them, I feel like I know Erin and Casey and Sean and all of their kids. Nothing lit up Col's face more than when she was talking about her family, her Irish roots or her dad.

Colleen has been there for me and with me like few others throughout my adult life. Most recently during the my mom's illness and following her death.

To say that she will be missed is an understatement. We lost a good one this week. And though I am not a religious person in any way, I will break from form and offer up a prayer in honor of Col. It would make her smile that she once again was able to quietly twist my arm to do something good.

"In the Human Habitiat...." there's nothing like bad advice.

After hearing Amy Dickinson of "Ask Amy" speak at an event for women entrepeneurs last fall, I became a faithful reader of her column in the Post Standard. So, her column this morning was extremely disappointing. In response to a reader's question about an issue between a father and daughter, here was part of her answer:

"In the human habitat, there is nothing quite like the wounded adult daughter. She can sulk, manipulate and punish. And she can keep it up for years..."

That just really rubbed me the wrong way. It seems narrow-minded, sexist and just plain jerky? Am I over-analyzing this? What do you think?

Time for these Rebels to Remember their Cause

I can certainly be a rebel. And sometimes a rebel without a cause. So in the spirit of "it takes one to know one", I think Occupy Syracuse has become this to the enth degree.

http://www.syracuse.com/news/index.ssf/2012/01/syracuse_police_public_works_c.html

I was a big supporter of the movement when it first began. And as a PR profession, I love the "We are the 99%" battle cry. Yet, speaking of our local contingent specifically, as time ticks by, what are these "activists" trying to accomplish? Have they lost sight of their goals. Have they dropped out instead of tuning in.  

I used to honk and give a thumbs up to the group when I passed by, but now I'm a bit ticked at the seemingly unnecessary visual blight they are putting on a central part of a Syracuse downtown on its way to revival.

I agree with our mayor, Stephanie Miner, that it's time to oust these folks from our Perseverance Park. Enough's enough. Instead, I would offer the following advice to these folks IF they truly want to make a difference and advance their platform: Organize a phone-in campaign bombarding legislators with your message; identify potential candidates within your ranks to run for office; and find other creative ways to win over the folks in elected office who make the decisions to your way of thinking.

Sitting in tents with handmade posters sure isn't advancing the cause or doing anyone any good. It's time for these rebels to get back to the cause. Just sayin'... 

  

Evan Better the Second Time!

What’s better than getting up
personal and close with the Budweiser Clydesdales? Doing it twice in one week!

Yes! The Budweiser Clydesdales were back at Denise Vespa Stables, where I board my horse, this weekend for an overnight stay en route to St. Louis. And while last week the youngsters in training stopped for the weekend, this time we got to know the elite team. The guys who have been around the block and are the experts at the public appearance thing.

And among those astounding, mesmerizing beauties was a real superstar. None other than Evan. He’s the one, who as a baby appeared in the television commercial where he pulls the wagon. (see link below)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2o_yD5rBus

Evan is all grown up, and at six-years-old is regal and charming and flirty and stopped to visit with the boarders at the barn and even with one of the ponies.

Denise and crew have obviously earned a place in the hearts of the Budweiser folks because of the royal treatment they give to the beloved Clydesdales – providing much pampering and a comfy place for them to stay during their travels. And at the same time, this Syracuse stable has now rightfully earned a Notable chapter in the history of these famed creatures.   

Some Beery Special Visitors

We had some pretty awesome visitors to the barn where I board my horse this past weekend. Visitors of the enormous variety.  And by enormous, I mean draft horses. And by draft horses, I mean none other than the world-renowned Budweiser Clydesdales.  Denise Vespa Stables plays host to the various teams of Clydesdale horses from time to time. And believe me, it never gets old.

But first, let me mention what goes on behind the scenes in advance of the arrival of the giant Budweiser trailers.

When the call comes in – usually with very short notice - that these superstar horses need a place to spend a couple of nights between destinations, the amazing owner/operator of our barn, Denise Vespa, and her staff spring to action. This time the horses needed a rest before continuing on to New Hampshire for a homecoming celebration for troops overseas.

Our barn is pretty much at capacity right now so finding room for the Clydesdales and juggling the other horses to alternate space is a mind-boggling task. On pretty much no notice, Denise erects temporary stalls, and then sets about moving horses to the right-sized stalls. For example, my horse is pretty small (not much over 15 hh) but has a fairly large stall so she moved to a smaller stall so a larger horse could use her space for a couple of days.

And that is how it went all day. Mixing and matching spaces while getting the place in tip top condition. It’s kind of like when relatives visit and you clean your house top to bottom. Weekends at any barn are very hectic anyway so while Denise and her employees were readying for their guests, lessons and training continued on as did the rest of the daily activities and routines of the barn.  

 When that giant truck pulls in with the Clydesdales aboard, it’s so so exciting. And when the ramp drops and the first gentle giant emerges from the trailer, I always get chills then teary-eyed.  

The Clydesdale team that visited this time around was the young team: the babies. Some were attending their very first events. They were fun and playful and there were lots of spilled water buckets.        

Being chosen to house these animals is no small honor. The Clydesdales are worth considerable money and they need top-notch care, feeding, housing and even privacy and a break from the public. And Denise ensures that the animals get some downtime by keeping their presence a secret – and asks the same of her boarders. Only after the horses depart, does she spill the beans.

I think it’s pretty terrific that a barn off in the beautiful rolling hills of the town of Onondaga has earned this hosting distinction and I love bearing witness to it. I’ll leave you with this fast fact about the Clydesdales:

The Budweiser Clydesdales made their first-ever appearance on April 7, 1933. A gift from August A. Busch, Jr. and Adolphus Busch to their father in celebration of the repeal of Prohibition, the presentation of the original two six-horse hitches of champion Clydesdales moved father, sons and drivers Art Zerr and Billy Wales to tears. The phrase “crying in your beer” was officially coined shortly thereafter.

Puppy Play

 

(Photo: Jade takes a break from the fun at Puppy Play.)

There’s a sense of community in Syracuse that is hard to describe to outsiders.  It even extends to our pets. In the city’s Strathmore section, neighbors get together early every Saturday and Sunday morning behind Roberts School. And while they catch up – sleepy-eyed with coffee in hand - so do their dogs.   

Dubbed Puppy Play, the dogs of all shapes and sizes - and energy levels - are unleashed in a fenced area and play together until they’re exhausted.

It’s just one more example of how people in Syracuse stay in touch and strengthen neighborly bonds in all sorts of basic but meaningful ways.