An Inconvenient Inconvenience

Just in case people were wondering, "Wow, this recent turn of positive events for Chris and Anna Maria has us curious -- I didn't think they had that kind of luck!" -- the universe righted those wrongs last weekend.

Driving home on Friday, from work, I was looking forward to my weekend. A friend was coming out on Friday evening to hang out; Saturday, we had a slew of things going on, and Sunday, we had more visitors coming to see Nicolo. My mother-in-law was visiting, as well; so the weekend was chock full o' stuff.

I left work slightly later than I usually do -- one of those things you look back on, wistfully, and think, "if only...". I take mostly back roads, avoiding highways wherever possible; primarily because I don't like dealing with most drivers.

I turned onto the main road (Rte. 25) from a side street (Beverly Road). There was one car ahead of me, and one truck behind me. We entered Jericho Turnpike (Rte. 25) with no one in front of us.

Approximately 400 feet away, was another street (Longfellow). As we approached Longfellow (with the car ahead of me in the left lane; and the truck, behind me, in the right lane, there was a grey Suzuki in the turning lane, ready to turn on to Longfellow.

Only, the car didn't turn. Instead, it stayed in the turning lane and drove (slowly) through the intersection, then, began drifting into the left lane of the main road (having passed Longfellow already). The car in front of me honked angrily and sped off. The grey Suzuki didn't even jerk back; but just kept coming over, and planted itself directly in front of me; doing approximately 5 mph.

And then, it parked.

I don't mean it came to a stop; it didn't slow down. It literally completely stopped moving, with no brake lights or any indication. Before I could even react (since it had entered the road just a few feet ahead of me), I had collided with it. Thankfully, I was only doing about 15-20 mpg (since I'd had to slow down when I saw the car begin drifting over, earlier). My car took all of the damage, completely destroying the front end of my vehicle. The Suzuki took nearly no damage; just losing its rear bumper.

I leaped out of my car, irate, and stormed over to the other vehicle. All of the occupants were easily under 25 years of age.The male driver barely looked at me; while the female in the passenger seat screamed at him. The female in the back seat (pregnant) left the car and began speaking with me. Both females eventually left the car and were extremely apologetic. Apparently, the car had not been driving correctly -- it had shifted in and out of gear three times, and, the car had mysteriously shifted into "park" while they were driving. I asked/begged why they hadn't left the main road and turned down a side road. They continued apologizing, asking if they could call anyone, did I need a ride anywhere. While I was speaking with both ladies, the male tried to move the car, but my car was still hitched on his bumper, and it wasn't safe to try to move out of the lane. I screamed to him "Dude, stop!"

The pregnant lady told me her name was Katie, an she was the only under-25 year old redhead that worked at the Hauppauge DMV, and if I ever needed anything -- even something unrelated to this incident -- I should feel free to contact her.

I calmed, realizing that they were taking the blame (rightfully) for the accident; and I awaited the police arrival. Here is where things get concerning for me.

When the police arrived, myself and the other driver were obviously in our respective cars. We both filled out our police reports/statements. The officer ran checks, etc., I needed a tow truck for my vehicle. At that point, I saw the guy trying to pry the bumper off his car, and I went to the police officer. I explained that they had explained the reason for the accident was that their car wasn't driving properly; and, obviously, they should not be driving away from the scene (of an accident they caused, no less!) She checked their rear window wiper and brake lights (both of which worked -- as I'd said, my car took the damage), but she did not check the driving functionality of the vehicle.

The female that had been sitting in the front seat drove the vehicle away. I realized, after speaking with the officer, that they had said the *female* had been driving (not the pregnant one, but the other one). This got me worried; although, I'm not sure why.

Clearly, they had something to hide -- why else to state that someone other than the driver was actually driving the vehicle. Perhaps the male had a revoked or suspended license; or maybe he'd already had a few accidents (or, maybe he had no license) - whatever the reason, there's obviously some reason why they told the police someone else was driving the vehicle.

On the other hand, let's say this is an insurance scheme -- and the male has already been a part of a few accidents. Rather than draw attention to themselves (by having the same driver hit several times), they spread it around. It sounds crazy, sure; but there are crazy people in the world. It's also equally crazy to be driving a vehicle that shifts in and out of gear; to drive through an intersection in a turning lane; to illegally merge into a left lane of a highway; and to park your vehicle on the highway. In that context, the premise isn't so ridiculous.

So, now I wait. I wait to hear what will happen with my car (I suppose it could be totaled, there was enough damage), and everything is done on a far slower timetable than I would like (the appraisal won't even be done for a few days; and then insurance has to evaluate the feasibility of the repairs, etc.) If it *is* to be repaired, then there's probably a week's worth of work. All the while, I'll be in a far-too-small rental car (because my insurance company actually includes -- as standard -- a rental car rider that no rental car qualifies for ($30 a day -- try finding a car on Long Island for $30 a day; it's impossible)).

I suppose I'll learn not to be too cocky -- I'd almost thought the bad part of 2011 was behind me, before this was forcibly tossed back in my face. Yes, it could be worse; I could've been hurt, or any of the three others could've been hurt. Instead, the impact was low-speed enough (their car didn't even move) and my car did what it was supposed to; crumpling around the core. No one needed an ambulance, and everyone was walking. It's just a huge inconvenience; but one that -- frustratingly -- should have been avoidable.

Daddy Isn’t So Good With the Onesies

So, many of you know that my wife and I finally had our dreams realized with the adoption of our son, Nicolo Alessandro. Things happened extremely quickly and – especially after the events of this past February (a post on that will follow) – we kept things quiet until the end.

But, now that things have progressed well, I thought I’d provide some insights into how everything happened and how things have evolved since then!

We began working with the birthmother about 3-3.5 weeks before the birth. She had actually been working with another couple, who found themselves unable to continue the process due to some life changes. We share the same adoption consultant and attorney as the other couple and our consultant (Geri Scher) immediately thought of us, and arranged a conversation between us and the birthmom.

She was extremely nice and easygoing – quite the change from our previous experience! Of course, the one concern we had was that her projected birthdate (late September) would put her in direct conflict with my sister’s wedding on October 2. And, the birthmom was in Indiana – not exactly easy commuting (as we would discover).

She was visiting her OB/GYN every few days, as they narrowed down the due date. He first thought he would induce labor on September 30 (which we thought was not a great idea – because of the impending wedding), then, he changed his mind and moved it to October 7 (much better) and then, forward again to October 4 (also good).

On Thursday, September 29, she visited him again, and he told her, “You’re nowhere near ready – we’ll just reevaluate next week” and there were no plans for inducing.

On Saturday, October 1, we had a slew of errands to run. I needed to get my brakes repaired on my vehicle, since I knew the trip to Indiana was pending. We also had a few other preparatory tasks to accomplish.

Around 9:30am, the birthmother called us, to tell us she thought she was in labor. My wife (a nurse) talked with her for about two hours, trying to determine if it was true labor or something else. Around 11:30am, she finally convinced her to call an ambulance.

The ambulance arrived at 11:40am; she got to the hospital at 11:50am; and she delivered the baby at 12:16pm.

Then, she called my wife at 12:27pm, to tell her she was heading home! My wife convinced her to stick around for a while and avail herself of the medical attention she probably needed.

Of course, this was completely unexpected for my wife and me. We moved into high gear – we hadn’t packed yet (we threw things into suitcases; I – of course – overestimated how much free time I’d have); we needed to set up care for our dog (my sister would watch her; but we still needed to transport her first); and then we had the small matter of the fact that my car was in the shop. And, we had to tell my sister that we wouldn't be at her wedding -- good times all around!

Things work out; they always do; and we were on the road by 4:30pm. We drove straight through the night; finally arriving in Indiana at 9:20am the following morning. Made a stop at WalMart to pick up some amenities for the birthmother (who had been transported to the hospital in a nightgown) and then, we were on our way to the hospital.

We showed up – tired, unshowered and looking like we’d just driven 17 hours. Somehow, they still entrusted the child to us! He was actually waiting at the front area of the nursery.

I can’t even do the nursing staff justice. Their efforts to ensure our comfort were exceptional. We were treated as well as I’ve ever been treated in a hospital (which is saying something, considering my wife is very nearly the mayor at the hospital where she works).

Of course, adoption is truly a bureaucratic process. Every agency in each state has its hands out to get its $250 in fees for the adoption. This also means you have to stick around for a few days after the baby is released from the hospital before you’re allowed to leave the state.

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First, some insights about where we were staying. Frankfort, Indiana is never going to be confused for New York City. The first night we were there, we wanted to go out to get something to eat (remember, we’d been up since 8am the day before; with no sleep; and no real food). We also knew it would be the last night we’d be without a child, providing us with the opportunity to go somewhere “nice” to eat.

I headed down to the front desk at the Holiday Inn Express, where we were staying (the *only* hotel in Frankfort, for the record).

“Hi, my wife and I were looking to head out for dinner; do you have any recommendations?”

“Sure, are you looking to eat out; or bring food in?”

“We’re probably looking to eat out – it’ll be the last night we can do that easily.”

“Oh, well, you’re in luck; we have an Applebees right in town!”

“Hmmm… Well, Applebees is good; but I have those at home; anything else?”

Dumbfounded look.

So, off to Applebees we went.

The next night, with Nicolo in the room, we wanted to bring food in. I went back to the front desk.

“So, my wife and I were interested in recommendations again; we’re looking to bring food in tonight.”

“Fantastic, Sir – what are you looking to have?”

“Well, we’re actually in the mood for Italian.”

“Great, we have lots of excellent pizza places – 3Ds Pizza, Arni’s Pizza; Pizza King…”

“Are these ‘pizzerias’? or do they serve dinners, as well?”

“Well, they have sandwiches, too!”

“But, do they have dinners?”

“What do you mean?”

“So, say I wanted a nice chicken parmigiana with ziti or penne?”

“Oh [extended pause] … Well, we have an Applebees!”

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So, once we were able to leave Frankfort (after I drove the birthmom to court, to officially rescind her rights), we did. Tuesday night, we headed to Indianapolis, where we had made reservations at an Extended Stay (as we had, erroneously, thought we’d be room-bound, cooking meals, etc.).

We checked in and checked out as quickly as we could. While the hotel was old (understandable), it also just stank of transience. It would not have surprised me to find a dead body in the closet.

Thankfully, the manager was exceptional and worked with another facility in Indianapolis to not only get us a room; but also to get us one at the same rate. We checked in to the Homewood Suites and experienced – again – some of the nicest people (then again, people love babies; and they REALLY love people who adopt babies…).

We ended up doing nearly no cooking in the room (aside from toasting English muffins each morning) (although, thankfully, the suites were still cheaper than a normal hotel room). By Thursday morning, we’d already received notice from the attorney in Indiana that Indiana had signed off on our paperwork – all that was left was New York’s approval. Feeling pretty confident about things, we headed to the Indianapolis Zoo Thursday afternoon.

While at the zoo, around 3:15pm, we get a call from our attorney. He asked where we were (and, after we said, “Um, Indiana”, he asked, more specifically, where.) We told him we were at the zoo. He then asked if we had a fax machine handy (huh?), and that there was ONE more piece of paper left to be filled out. And, if we could get it signed (oh, and NOTARIZED (double huh?)) by 4pm, we could leave.

Thanks for all the advance warning.

We finally made arrangements to have it faxed to the Indiana attorney’s office; and we hauled ass to get there (on the complete opposite side of Indianapolis). We got there by 3:55; but the faxed, notarized copy did not get back to NY until 4:01, and – as such – they wouldn’t approve it.

Making matters worse, in speaking with the Indiana attorney, the form was something that should have been completed *months* ago. Both attorneys told us we were *probably* okay to leave (but, when I asked my attorney to provide something in writing, he declined; and said, if we did leave and were ‘caught’, he’d deny ever telling us we could leave – classy).

We went back to the hotel and did some research on ‘leaving before actually receiving permission’ (even though both attorneys stated that permission *would* be granted; the form was something silly that referenced how we knew, entering into an adoption, there were no guarantees – something that was also moot, now that the birthmother had stood before a judge). We elected to wait, and so – rather than leaving at 4am Friday morning (and arriving home at a reasonable hour); we had to wait to leave until nearly 10:30am (after hearing from our attorney), and arrived home at 3am, Saturday.

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So far, there hasn’t been an enormous change to my life – admittedly, my wife has handled 90 percent of the caregiving. We did have two baby showers this past weekend; which resulted in most of my house looking like a Babies R Us warehouse.

I have changed diapers, though; and tried to dress him. Some clothes are easy – others (like the afore-mentioned ‘onesies’) are just debilitating. It’s sobering to try to squeeze his head through the onesie, only to have him look at me with a face that says, “Good God, I hope I make it to three years old.”

My wife has taken it on herself to be the one that wakes up in the middle of the night for feeding (I’ve done so, sparingly, on weekends); but mostly, since I’m still working, she takes care of the feeding (although, it’s a misnomer to say I *don’t* get up – as he’s gotten older, his ‘cry’ has become far stronger … he might even be able to wake the deaf).

I’ve been able to keep most of my social commitments; but there has been expense (mainly the fact that our ‘fall cleaning’ has stalled out). Still, I’m a huge fan of structure – and I’m optimistic we’ll return to something like that (since we all need it).

Most importantly, however, today marks ONE MONTH since Nicolo was born. That is both amazing and humbling in my eyes. In only a month, I’d have a hard time envisioning a world without him (of course, I can easily envision a world where he sleeps through the night – that doesn’t make me a bad person, I hope)!

The Marshmallow Test

I have to confess, I only learned about this a few weeks ago. Apparently,sometime in the 1960s, a psychological study was started at Stanford University, which examined children's willingness and ability to delay gratification. A child, about 4 years old, is seated at a table with a giant marshmallow on a plate. The researcher tells the child, "You can eat this marshmallow now, or you can wait 10 minutes. If I come back, and the marshmallow is still there, I'll give you another marshmallow and you'll have TWO!"

The researcher leaves and the resulting agony/internal conflict is videotaped (and, eventually, placed up on YouTube).



As I watched this, I was fascinated. But, as I tend to do -- I started to think about the larger perspective. How interesting it is to watch these children agonize over something as simple (to us adults) as whether to eat the marshmallow. The stress and pressure they put on themselves is reminiscent of life-altering decisions adults have to make. And, you can't help but be envious of the children -- how great it would be, again, to have the most difficult decision in your life be simply holding out for 10 minutes, so you can double your marshmallow bounty.


Credit where credit is due -- I read about this for the first time on Bill Simmons' new Grantland website. His discussion on the phenomenon is far more detailed (and humorous) than mine.

What do YOU think about when you see this (especially if it's the first time you've seen it....)?

Why I Don't Really Like Baseball Anymore

For years, I was a huge baseball fan. More than any other sport, baseball has a robust history, and it was my sport of choice growing up.

Today, while I still appreciate the history and lore of the game, it’s nearly impossible for me to root for a team (or even watch a game on TV) anymore. I still enjoy going to games – minor league games more than professional; but that’s consistent with my overall sports interests (I prefer college basketball to pro basketball; college football to pro football, etc.).

And, this past week, a number of situations arose that caused me to become even more disillusioned with the sport. But, that got me thinking – what were the steps that started my fractured relationship?

Free agency – all sports have this, but baseball started it and is the worst culprit. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t necessarily have a problem with players moving teams, from a business-viewer perspective (i.e., the reserve clause probably WAS illegal on some levels). But, as a fan, I long for the days when players spent their entire careers with one or two teams. And, those days are long gone – there are but a handful of players who will do that (and, all too often, the loyalty isn’t returned by the team, either…)

But, even more than the loss of a player spending his career with one team (I mean, how do you root for a “team” when the roster makeup changes by 50-60 percent each year?), the impact really hit home when it came to money. Obviously, if you’re going to woo someone to play for your team, it’ll cost you, and the salaries in baseball (and all sports, admittedly) have increased at a pace that dwarfs any business in America. And, who gets to pick up the slack? The fans, of course.

Strike – I wasn’t even a teenager for the 1981 strike, which lasted 50 days. But I was a young adult for the 1994-95 strike, which really drove a strike through my heart. If I had to point to ONE situation that had caused me to fall out-of-love with baseball, it would be the 94-95 strike, which devastated the sport (even more than the steroids scandal, which, in the grand scheme of things, doesn’t even enter this list).

It’s reminiscent of how I was feeling last year, while I was looking for work. I decided, although I could do my job for ANY company, it was important for me to work for a company with a cause/mission/principal I could get behind. This came to a head when Cablevision began its litany of assaults on Scripps, causing viewers to miss many shows (same thing that happened with ABC and FOX). And, each time, Cablevision’s PR department had to craft message after message to show that they, in fact, weren’t the villains. It was all the other person’s fault. The viewers were the only losers. And, I thought to myself, how dismal it must be to come to work each day and craft passive-aggressive messages over what amounts to pennies.

And that brings us to this past week – first, the All-Star Game (being held tonight). A few years ago, the All-Star Game was revealed for its true purpose – effectively nothing – when a tie game was left as a tie, for the first time in history. The following year, the commissioner decided the winner of the All-Star Game would earn home-field advantage in the World Series. Now, the All-Star Game isn’t the festival it was when I was younger (interleague play killed that, too, which probably deserves its own entry here, but, quite honestly, I was disillusioned before that), but no fewer than 16 players – four from the NY area -- banged in “hurt” for the game (Mariano Rivera, Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez, Jose Reyes – the batters were actually voted as starters by the fans).

Again, the fans suffer.

But, the coup de grâce was this past weekend’s complete mishandling of Derek Jeter’s pursuit of 3000 hits.

The game on Friday evening was rained out – unfortunate, and certainly something that happens in July.

The game COULD have been rescheduled as a straight double-header (e.g., fans come in for the first game and stick around for the second) simply by the Yankees saying, “this is what we want to do.” The opposing team would have no say in that decision.

However, the Yankees decided, instead, to propose a split double-header, where the teams play one game; the stadium empties, and then fans are re-admitted for a second game in the evening. They did need the Devil Rays’ consent for this, which the Tampa team did not grant.

On the surface, this seems almost sensible – why have the teams play back-to-back when they could rest for an hour or two in between. But, the Yankees were quick to squash that misperception:

When asked why the Yankees chose not to play a straight doubleheader Saturday, general manager Brian Cashman said: "Gate. We're not interested in losing, going from 81 home games to 80."

Wow. So, once again, it all comes back to money. Doesn’t it always? So much for Ernie Banks’ great mantra – “Let’s Play Two!” and so much for the days of Ty Cobb, Nap Lajoie and Honus Wagner where they played each day because they had a calling and they thoroughly enjoyed the sport. The idea of sitting out a game – an all-star game, or even a “meaningless” regular season game, never occurred to those players, lest they end up like Wally Pipp.

Yes, a great deal of that mindset had to do with the fact that there was no free agency (as we covered before) and perhaps that bordered on the illegal from a business sense; but I’d fully support a move where players weren’t motivated to head to a team due to money; but rather, because a team was the best fit or offered the best chance for that player to succeed or win.

It’s not unprecedented; Greg Maddux did that in 1992, signing for $6 million less with Atlanta instead of choosing to play for the Yankees. "Greg, above all, wanted to win," said his agent, Scott Boras. “The Braves offered him the most substantial degree of assurance of taking the World Series.”

And, while that didn’t turn out the way Maddux had planned, entirely, the Braves did make three World Series during his tenure (half as many as the Yankees – but the Yankees of 1996 were a markedly different team than the one of 1992, when Maddux made his decision).

In the end, I’ll probably content myself with reading the history, playing Strat-O-Matic (where contracts and contentious negotiations don’t enter into the equation) and avoiding the game today – it’s far more interesting in the rearview mirror.

Facebook Killed the Blog, Part II

So, I found myself wondering the other day about Facebook's impact on blogs, again.

When blogs first hit the scene, some 13-15 years ago, they were really, the only gig in town. If you wanted to interact socially, it was blogs or forums or nothing.

Now, of course, Facebook (and Twitter, to a far lesser degree) is the 800 pound gorilla in the room. Way too many people view Facebook and social media as completely synonymous (which, they're not).

So, here's an example.

My blog, obviously, is public-facing. Anyone can find it, read it, comment on it. I don't restrict the viewing of the blog to anyone.

But, when I promote the blog, I do it on Facebook, a lot of times. When my friends want to comment, they do that in response to my link post on Facebook; *NOT* on the blog. The net result is that 90 percent of the comments to my blog don't actually make it TO my blog; they're restricted to my circle of friends on Facebook. And, any other viewers might not see that a good deal of my posts actually generate a number of comments.

Now, ideally, blogs are meant to be viral -- viewers should read them, comment and share -- and by doing that, the readership grows. But, Facebook continues to make that less conducive. Now, in some cases, it's understandable that people don't want to post publicly (maybe they want to send something to me directly; and they don't want everyone to see what they've written). And, that's the bigger risk of social media -- the fact that the web makes things archivable and findable and permanent.

I thought about this a lot last year, while I was out of work -- ensuring that what I posted in various places made sense given the venue (in other words, public forums demanded one level of self-imposed privacy; Facebook demanded another; email conversations could be less concerning). I went back over my internet history and ensured that anything I had posted in a public setting was appropriate and suitable.

I basically subscribe to this version of internet privacy (something we all should follow), and I see the value in being more careful (even now that I'm no longer looking for a job). But, I think you need to know the setting you're in -- this doesn't mean you have to completely change your online personality, necessarily; it just means that, perhaps, that highly off-color joke is better served through email than on Facebook.

One of my favorite communications professionals, Shel Holtz, has a great saying -- "New media do not kill old media" -- and that's certainly true. All of these media work together -- email has a place; blogs have a place; and Facebook has a place. Unfortunately, I wonder if blogs have overstayed their welcome -- not really from a functional standpoint (I still think they're outstanding forms of communication); but from an audience perspective.