Author Archives: mohawkvalleygirl

More Vegetarian Zombies

Posted on February 20, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Spoiler Alert! I don’t know why I bother with these Spoiler Alerts. Real movie reviewers never do. Then again, I think it’s clear I’m not a real reviewer. You probably didn’t need a Spoiler Alert to tell you that.

I was thinking of Monster Movie Monday when I watched King of the Zombies (1941) on Steven’s collection of 50 Horror Classics (so I missed it by a day). Speaking of spoiler alerts, the blurb in the booklet that comes with the collection tells you almost everything. I should have known better than to read it. Really, the word “zombies” in the title tells me everything I needed to know.

The movie opens on three guys on a plane about to make an emergency landing on — what else? — a mysterious, uncharted island. They seem to be getting some radio transmission from the island but they can’t understand it. This makes them hopeful (radio transmission) rather than suspicious (can’t understand it). Of course, the characters don’t know they’re in a monster movie. That kind of ironic pose did not happen in movies till much later (although I do seem to remember Heckle and Jeckle knowing they are cartoon characters. Does that count?) (But I digress).

The three guys are the pilot, a jaunty Irishman; the purported hero; and his valet, a black man. I guess they referred to African Americans as “colored” at this time.

It is no secret that movies of this era reflect the racism rampant in the country at that time. When black people got parts in movies they were usually servants or natives. They sometimes got to sing songs. They sometimes got to act really scared. They were often the comic relief. In this movie, the valet gets to act scared, provides comic relief and is easily the most interesting character in the picture.

The proprietor of the island assures the three that he has no radio, although he is happy to welcome them as his guests. He has a catatonic wife, a beautiful niece and an extremely creepy butler. The Valet is not best pleased when the bad guy (oh you knew he was the bad guy as soon as I mentioned him; I’m not going to keep calling him the proprietor for the rest of the post) sends him off with the creepy butler to the servants’ quarters.

Things look up for Valet when he meets a pretty maid in the kitchen. They take a turn for the worse when she warns him of zombies — dead people who walk. Oh, there’s also an old witch-doctor-looking woman brewing something in a pot.

A lot of time is wasted with Valet seeing zombies and his boss and the pilot not believing him. Not a whole lot is done with the catatonic wife and beautiful niece (it’s the wife’s niece; she’s only related to the Bad Guy by marriage, in case anybody was worried).

That was actually OK with me, because Valet and Pretty Maid were my favorite characters anyways. The Irish Pilot was pretty cool, too, but he didn’t really have enough to do, except die and get made into a zombie. Oops. Well, that’s why I put in the Spoiler Alert.

The zombies in this picture, once again, are not flesh-eating monsters. In fact, Pretty Maid serves them up some stew-looking stuff that is apparently pretty bland. She realizes Valet has not in fact become a zombie when he asks for salt. Apparently zombies can’t eat salt (high blood pressure in the undead? News to me, but, whatever). She puts too much on just to be sure, so I don’t think the poor guy gets any dinner.

I kind of stopped paying attention by the end. I seem to think the zombies revolted; in fact, I remember reading that on the blurb. As in Revolt of the Zombies, it’s not such a much.

I feel I should mention that I watched this movie almost two weeks ago and have been having trouble with the write-up. In these not-as-post-racial-as-one-would-hope times, I hesitated over my description of the black characters. Then I thought maybe I could write a whole blog post thrashing out my dilemma. Before I wrote that post, I re-read my draft of this one and thought, “Hmmm, it’s not so bad. Maybe I’ll publish it after all.”

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And I’m Still Mad About the Dog

Posted on February 19, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Spoiler Alert: I am pretty much going to recount most of the plot of today’s movie. I feel no qualms of conscience in doing so, because the only reason to watch this movie is Lionel Barrymore’s performance and you can enjoy that in any case.

Calling Dr. Gillespie also stars Donna Reed as a young and beautiful girl about to graduate from some girls boarding school somewhere. At the beginning of the movie she is meeting her young man. Donna’s father has at last consented to their engagement (cue romantic sigh from Donna’s young, impressionable roommate).

The fiance wants to elope right away, but Donna’s father has stipulated that she must finish school first (Yay, Dad, insisting on education! I’m a little sorry we never meet that character).

“I always get my way,” says Fiance with that demure, psycho look you often see in these movies.

“Not this time,” Donna tells him gently. He immediately kills a perfectly nice dog with a rock.

What the hell! I saw the dog and had fears for its well-being, but I hoped the poor thing would make it to the second reel at least. Donna is also upset, but not as upset as me, because she does not immediately terminate the engagement. She asks advice of the understanding headmistress, who recommends a psychiatric evaluation. She calls Dr. Gillespie (Barrymore), in hopes that it can be done so discreetly that even the fiance doesn’t know about it.

Dr. Gillespie calls in a brilliant young surgeon on staff at the same hospital. This young man wants to branch out into psychiatry but has so far been denied by the head of the hospital. The two of them go to the girls school. While Dr. Gillespie holds court with a number of fascinated young girls, Brilliant Surgeon takes Donna and the Fiance for a walk and asks some questions so subtle even I didn’t know what he was getting at.

Dr. Gillespie, Donna and Brilliant Surgeon meet with Fiance’s parents and family doctor. Fiance might be a mental case, our heroes say. Nonsense, says Family Doctor. Who do you think the parents believe?

Luckily, another demonstration of Fiance’s mental imbalance soon follows. No animals are harmed, but he smashes the window of a toy store and wrecks a plane, muttering threats against Dr. Gillespie.

So Family Doctor prescribes a long rest and a trip somewhere. Fiance smiles charmingly from the bed and says he feels fine. He doesn’t remember anything about the dog or the toy plane. As soon as he’s left alone he smashes Donna Reed’s picture and escapes out the window.

In talking with Donna, Brilliant Surgeons realizes that what triggers Fiance’s episodes of madness is the sound of a train whistle. You know, I don’t think the Hollywood screenwriters involved ever took a psychiatry course in their lives. For one thing, I never herd another train whistle for the rest of the picture, but Fiance kills two random guys to get a hot car to impress a dime-a-dance girl he’s trying to make time with.

Maybe it’s just me, but isn’t that a little inconsistent? Smashing a poor dog or a shop window because you’re frustrated and hear a train whistle strikes me as a slightly different psychosis from killing people to obtain a material object. Of course, his little murder for gain in a clumsy, short-sighted act, and the police are soon after him.

Donna Reed looks out her window and screams, because the first place he heads in the school garden. Headmistress, immediately consulting via telephone with Dr. Gillespie, sends Donna to the hospital with the school chauffeur, where she will supposedly be safe. Guess where Fiance is headed.

It is a big hospital. Fiance is able to kill a doctor and steal his glasses and his identity fairly easily (we don’t find out till later the poor other doctor is dead) (and we never meet him either, which saved the producers paying another actor). My first reaction was, “Oh, great disguise. They’ll NEVER recognize you with those glasses one!” But he only runs into people who don’t know him or the dead doctor as he continues to stalk Dr. Gillespie, intent on revenge.

Donna Reed, meantime, is hiding out in Brilliant Surgeon’s office suite, which includes sleeping accommodations (she does not avail herself of the invitation to put on a hospital gown, so don’t get your hopes up) (you know who you are). How fiance figures out she’s there so he can call her is never explained, but she ends up on hand for the final confrontation.

The thing that really annoyed me was Donna’s wailing at the end, “But it wasn’t really his fault!” Three men and a dog are dead! Why are you feeling more sorry for the killer? I’m thinking she doesn’t know about the dime-a-dance girl, for one thing.

On the whole, I thought it was a pretty dumb movie. It was saved for me by Lionel Barrymore and a few of the minor characters. There are a couple of nurses he spars with, as fictional doctors and nurses tend to do. A large, kind of doofy orderly is recruited to act as his bodyguard, unbeknownst to the prickly Dr. Gillespie. I also got a few chuckles from Donna’s roommate, a budding photographer and paramour.

In closing credits they advertised another Dr. Gillespie movie. I’ll have to watch for it. I do love that Lionel Barrymore.

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Be Kind to Animals, Hollywood

Posted on February 18, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

What is it with animals coming to bad ends in movies?

I recently wrote about What’s the Matter with Helen?, in which some very beautiful white rabbits suffered at the hands of a lunatic. I watched a movie yesterday in which a perfectly nice looking dog had an even shorter and more thankless role. And now I am looking at a movie where every third or fourth scene, I hear myself saying, “Nothing bad better happen to that cat!”

So far the worst thing that happened to the cat is a lady took away the yarn he or she was playing with. I only wrote my remark about nothing bad happening in the TV Journal once, but as I continued to repeat it, I thought to myself, hey, this could be a blog topic.

Many of us get more upset when bad things happen to animals than we get when bad things happen to people, especially in the movies. After all, animals are more defenseless and often more harmless. Most of them are a good deal less annoying than some people, especially in a work of fiction.

You know, now that I’m writing this, I believe I have touched on the topic before. My defense for repeating myself is: I think it was previously a remark in passing and now it is the topic of the post. Also, it is a topic that bears repeating. Who doesn’t love cats, dogs and beautiful white rabbits (or at least one of the three)?

Hollywood, apparently.

Sometimes it is movie shorthand for a really, really bad person. Ooh, look at them, they were mean to a dog! They can’t be any good AT ALL! Just in case the viewer was looking for socially redeeming characteristics. Now we know there are none to be found.

I still don’t like it. I just don’t LIKE to see bad things happen to good animals. I don’t particularly like it when characters I like die either, but at least I can comfort myself with the thought that actors like to play death scenes. I don’t know that any animals feel the same way.

I don’t think any Hollywood screenwriters are likely to heed my words and start writing movies where all the animals live happily ever after (humans can take their chances). But I wanted to express myself. Now I’ll go back to the movie I was viewing and check out what happens to that cat.

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Saturday Shout Outs

Posted on February 17, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

I must begin today’s post by repairing an omission in a previous post titled, “To Market, To Market.” I had purchased a lovely a sweet treat for Steven for Valentine’s Day but neglected to make a note of the company that made it. Imagine my delight when I found the business card in my wallet.

Allow me to recommend Tamsin’s Sweet Shop of Clinton, NY. Website http://tamsinssweetshop.wordpress.com/ (imagine my further delight to find she also blogs on WordPress). She is also on Facebook.

To continue with Saturday’s post, I think I will give another shout out to The Knight Spot in Frankfort, NY. Steven and I went there Thursday night for our Valentine’s dinner. I’m not saying it is the most romantic atmosphere in the Mohawk Valley. More of a down home, family, diner type of atmosphere. But I had conceived a craving for a patty melt earlier in the week, and The Knight Spot makes one of the best.

We had no problem getting a booth. I ordered a bottle of Yuengling Beer. Steven got coffee but also ordered a chocolate shake to go with his dinner (which The Knight Spot also does superlatively). He got an open-faced hot roast beef sandwich with mashed potatoes, gravy over both. As I said, I got a patty melt.

The Knight Spot is located at 264 E. Main St., Frankfort, phone number 315-894-4054. They are also on Facebook.

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About That Play…

Posted on February 16, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

When we last left our hero (um, that’s me) (I went masculine as gender neutral, because I did not want to refer to myself as an illegal substance), she was about to stop writing her blog post and instead work on finishing a play she had started. OK, enough with the third person crap.

What I’m saying is, I did not write my post on breaks at work today, as I usually do. I trusted to last minute inspiration and my ability in the past to write something on the fly. Or is it off the cuff? I get my clothing metaphors confused.

It is, of course, Lame Post Friday, my day of random observations and half-baked philosophy. I seem to recall mentioning yesterday that we should save the half-baked philosophy about finished works for Lame Post Friday. And here we are.

I find it sad but true when I read a novel or a play or even a magazine article that is not very good: my first thought is, I could do so much better. My second thought is, well, why didn’t you? One reason the worst novel in the world can get published over my deathless prose (I don’t really think it’s deathless; I just like that expression) is that that novel GOT FINISHED.

And here is some more half-baked philosophy: one can take the above thought two ways. It could be an inspiration to write more and concentrate on finishing. Or it can be a discouraging criticism: if you haven’t finished a damn play yet, you never will, give it up now!

Well, which way did you think I was going to take it? You know I like to keep my blog positive! So I spent my time before I had to start working and my break writing my play. Unfortunately, I dare not tell you anything about it, because it is a work in progress. It’s not that I fear my gentle readers will steal my ideas, but I do fear “helpful” criticism (and I am certain MY readers would never offer any other kind). More to the point, I fear that having talked about the play, I will no longer feel the need to write it. I told the story, it’s done. It can happen.

In fact, I think I’d better shut up now.

Happy Friday, everyone.

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Whatever Happened to Playwright Steve?

Posted on February 15, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Writing about What’s the Matter with Helen? and mentioning Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? and the re-titled Whatever Happened to Cousin Charlotte? (remember, it became Hush… Hush, Sweet Charlotte) made me think about my husband Steven’s foray into thriller writing.

This happened when Steven was in junior high, well before he knew me and even well before I developed a taste (not to say obsession) for cheesy horror movies. And a quick disclaimer, I am laughing WITH my husband, not AT him. Indeed, I hope I poke good-natured fun at most of the movies I write about (except when I am taking them to task for spurious views on romance, like The Virgin Queen).

But I digress (well, why not digress on Non-Sequitur Thursday?). Getting on with the post, let us consider my husband’s play, What Happened to Millicent?

Steven had perhaps heard of Baby Jane and Sweet Charlotte, but had not seen them, and I don’t think Helen had even been made yet. Therefore no accusations of plagiarism can be leveled against him (unlike some of the plot points for some of the stories I wrote as a child and adolescent, but we’re not talking about me).

I think it’s pretty obvious that Steven had seen more television and movies than plays, because most of the scenes are about two minutes long and the set changes are quite elaborate. I don’t recall the whole plot, but Millicent disappears on the way to a dance. I think you hear a scream from behind a big rock.

In a later scene, Millicent’s sister Beverly is accused of doing away with Millicent. She immediately commits suicide, distraught at the accusation. We, the audience, know that Beverly is innocent, because we see her go behind the rock AFTER we hear the scream. Beverly sees her dead sister, screams, runs home and tells nobody. And apparently nobody else ever finds the body.

In the end (which I don’t scruple to tell you, since I doubt you will ever have an opportunity to read or see the play), we never find out what happens to Millicent. I believe it ends with a voice-over of the dead sister saying, “And whatever did happen to Millicent? No one will ever know.”

The play got a staged reading by some of Steven’s friends at a high school graduation party. They read it typos and all (the script had been hunt-and-pecked on a manual Smith Corona, just to inject a little history). The most notable of these was when one character threatened another with “Or eles!”

I must admit, Steven’s script had one quality that most of my efforts at novel and play writing have lacked: it was finished. That thought makes me want to leave this post unfinished and rush to finish the last play I was working on. Ironic, you say? I say, let’s save the half-baked philosophy for Lame Post Friday.

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To Market, To Market

Posted on February 14, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

I have been meaning to expand my farmers’ market horizons beyond my beloved Clapsaddle Farm in Ilion, NY. Saturday I finally made my way to the Oneida County Public Market at Union Station in Utica.

The market is worth checking out for the location alone. Union Station is one of Utica’s architectural treasures, a magnificent brick building. The large main room (waiting area for trains and buses) has a high ceiling, marble floor, enormous columns and build in wooden benches. Yes, this would be another post where it would have been nice if I had a digital camera and knew how to post pictures. One more thing to work on in the coming year.

One of my favorite things at farmers’ markets (and the supermarket, for that matter) is when they offer free samples. My problem is I try it, I like it, I want to buy it. With EVERYTHING! Also I feel a little guilty taking something from these small vendors and not purchasing anything.

First I tried some sweets and immediately purchased one for Steven. It was his Valentine’s Day present, but I could not resist giving it to him right away, so I do not scruple to mention it here. Unfortunately I did not make a note of the business name or pick up a card. Too bad, because I would totally recommend it.

The Stoltzfus Family Dairy guy offered a number of cheese, cheese curds and yogurt samples. I told him I had seen his stuff at the Ilion Farmers’ Market, and he agreed that was another good market. He sent me away with a sample of vanilla yogurt and a spoon, so I could continue to sample as I perused other vendors.

I admired some dog treats from Redmond’s Red Deer Farm and bird houses made from gourds by Janice Wnuk, the Garden Mentor. I sampled local honey from Bardwell Farms and gluten-free baked goods from Rosemont Inn Baking Company. The baking company people also run a bed and breakfast in Utica. That might be a nice place for a romantic night with my husband. I took business cards from anybody who had one.

I chatted up my friend Tom from Three Village Cheese Company. It was due to Three Village that I went to the farmers’ market. they had posted on their Facebook page that they would be there, and I said, “Ooh, there’s a thought.” He asked if I was still blogging.

“Oh yes, every day,” I said. I told him that was one reason I was happy to be there, as the blog had been thin on community events lately.

I purchased some cheese that utilized beer in the making. I foolishly did not make note of the name and I have since thrown away the package (of course I opened it almost as soon as I got home; what else?). Then I want back to the Stoltzfus table and got some vanilla yogurt, which I also started eating soon after I got it home.

I was all pleased with myself for driving ten (or so) miles down the road to a different farmers’ market. And Steven was pleased with his Valentine treat. My only regret was that I couldn’t bring my schnoodle, Tabby. Perhaps I’ll take her on a visit to Clapsaddle Farm soon.

The Oneida County Market runs from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. March 9 and April 13. Weekly markets begin May 18. For more information, visit their website at http://www.oneidacountymarket.com/

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Sorry About the Bunnies

Posted on February 13, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

I DVR’d What’s the Matter with Helen? (1971) from TCM because it starred Shelley Winters and Debbie Reynolds, and the description included the word “murder.” I thought no further of it till last Sunday. Steven and I had watched a distinctly non-cheesy movie (which I may yet write about), and Steven suggested that Helen might contain some amount of cheese.

In pre-show commentary, Ben Mankiewicz tells us the movie was one of a few horror movies featuring middle-aged female protagonists which followed the success of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? Jane was based on a novel by Henry Farrell. Farrell wrote the screenplay to Helen as well as the one to Hush… Hush, Sweet Charlotte (which, incidentally, was originally titled Whatever Happened to Cousin Charlotte? I sense a pattern here).

Shelley Winters plays Helen, the one with some something wrong with her. Debbie Reynolds plays Adele, the proprietress of a young ladies’ dance academy. It is a testament to the ladies’ acting ability that as I watched the movie and as I write about it, I see the characters as Helen and Adele, not Shelley and Debbie, nor yet Crazy One and Tap Dance Lady (as you know two less talented, unknown actresses would have ended up). For the purposes of this post, though, I will refer to them as Shelley and Debbie, to aid my readers’ mental imagery.

Shelley and Debbie play two women who are drawn together because their sons have committed a murder. The movie, which takes place in the 1930s, opens with a Hearst newsreel showing the two of them fighting a crowd to get to a taxi after sentencing. Life in prison, not the death penalty, which has caused some outrage. Shelley gets cut by someone in the crowd and receives a death threat over the phone from “somebody with athsma” (Debbie’s description).

I have to hand it to a movie that gets right into things and doesn’t waste a lot of time on boring flashbacks. Still, I could have used a little more backstory. Then too, after the promising start the movie bogs down a little. Debbie decides they will change their names and move to Hollywood, where hopeful mothers will pay good money to Adele in hopes she will turn their little darlings into the next Shirley Temple. Helen, it transpires, is the accompanist.

The most ominous foreshadowing to me was the collection of big white rabbits Shelley keeps in the back yard. She picks one up, caresses her, calls her beautiful, and I said, “Oh NOOO!” I spent the next hour or so saying, “Nothing bad better happen to those bunnies!” but not really holding out much hope that the poor things would make it to “The End” with skins intact.

The movie does create suspense, offering us several characters who may or may not be up to no good. Has the Texas millionaire who romances Debbie honorable or evil intentions? Why is the mysterious Englishman who enters without knocking so intent on teaching diction in this rinky dink school? And how about that stranger across the street, smoking a cigarette and watching Texas and Debbie “smooch” (Shelley’s word)? What is he up to? For that matter, are Shelley and Debbie what they seem, two innocent women caught up in bad circumstances?

I must sadly report that the ending did not justify all the suspense. Oh, I suppose it is shocking and creepy. To tell you more might ruin it for you and I am loathe to do that, because it is a pretty fun watch. I realize I did not include my usual Spoiler Alert, and I think I’ve done a pretty good job of not spoiling anything. Except perhaps for the bunnies, and I consider that more in the nature of a warning, if such a thing is needed. I think anyone who’s watched a horror movie knows: don’t get too attached to small, cute animals.

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Menu Monday

Posted on February 12, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

I missed What’s for Supper Sunday, so how about Menu Monday (I leave off the question mark, because I’m not really asking; I fully intend to write a cooking post).

Regular readers (I do love my regular readers) may recall that I invented a recipe for Chicken Florentine. Then recently I saw a commercial for one of those pre-made entrees you heat up in a skillet on the stove — it may have been Bertoli — of Chicken Florentine. It did not look anything like what I had done. It actually looked way easier. I said, Hmmmm….

No, I did not run to the freezer section of my local Hannaford looking for Bertoli. I opened my refrigerator at home and looked for ingredients.

For once I cooked with wine by actually putting wine in the food. I chopped up an onion and put it in my cast iron frying pan with a good dousing of some Chablis I happened to have on hand.

Just a side note: I had purchased the Chablis because Steven and I had recently watched Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. That movie, in case you didn’t know, features a fascinating character named The Lady Chablis. But I digress.

While the onion boiled in the wine (I put in a lot of wine), I crushed up some garlic and set the timer for 15 minutes, the length of time I’ve read it should breathe. At the end of 15 minutes I added it to the frying pan and let it cook a few minutes before adding the chicken and spinach.

I took both of those items out of my freezer. The chicken was fully cooked breast strips by, I believe, Tyson. The spinach was Hannaford brand frozen chopped.

The wine had pretty much cooked away by this time so I added a little olive oil and covered the pan. After a bit I sprinkled on some lemon pepper and Perfect Pinch Salt Free Savory stuff.

I had intended to put the mixture over pasta, but there wasn’t any sauce per se. The chicken had not dried out or anything, there was just no extra liquid such as one likes to put over pasta. I did not feel like messing with it and perhaps letting the chicken dry out (breast meat can be so touchy), so we skipped the pasta.

Instead, I made garlic toast with some French bread I happened to have on hand. Butter, garlic power, basil, oregano in a 350 degree oven. Oh, don’t shake your gourmet fingers at me over the garlic powder. My garlic press was soaking in the sink and I didn’t have 15 extra minutes to let the garlic breathe anyways.

But as long as you are shaking your fingers at me, though, I’ll confess that I used Country Crock instead of real butter. As usual, I had not planned ahead and I felt like using something I could spread easily.

It was not a bad supper. I believe, however, that I will want to tweak the recipe if I desire to make such a dish in the future. It will probably rate a blog post if I do. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

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I Run Again

Posted on February 11, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Yes, running posts two days in a row. I had a couple of Mohawk Valley adventures I could talk about, watched a cheesy horror movie and even cooked something of interest. But I just went running, I’m proud of myself and I’m going to write about it.

Did that sound a trifle defensive? Maybe it was. I didn’t run that far and I didn’t run that fast. Yesterday I didn’t run at all, as I believe I mentioned. This morning was exceedingly cold and I had my doubts. Then Steven and I watched a non-cheesy movie and I got restless. Our thermostat said the temperature had risen to 28 degrees. I decided to chance it.

I put on my leopard spotted long johns, which I had worn under my skirt yesterday. They are lightweight spandex and I think they look cool. I found my other long-sleeved army t-shirt and my other pair of winter running socks. Sweatshirt, toque, mittens, I was on my way.

When we had been out and about earlier I had noticed the path over what used to be a hydraulic canal had been plowed. Really, the sidewalk plow has been very efficient in Herkimer this season. I determined to run toward Main Street and perhaps rock the canal path (not sure if it has an official name).

Just because the sidewalk plow had been by did not mean the sidewalks were bare. Lots of snow remained to crunch under my feet and slow me down. Well, so what, I told myself. I run for a certain amount of time not a certain distance. If it takes me longer to get to point A, so be it. And I’m sure it burns more calories.

Traffic was not too bad. I managed to cross German Street without too much problem. I ran in the road on one side street to get to the canal path but other than that I pretty much stuck to the sidewalk. Still, bare pavement is nice. You forget to appreciate these things till you are reminded. I met a couple of pedestrians but managed not to run into anybody.

I followed the path as far as I could then ran down a couple more residential streets to Main Street. I figured I could easily cross Main Street on a Sunday. As it turned out, not at the precise moment I wanted to. Then I noticed a stretch of bare sidewalk and decided to make my cross further up.

Eventually I crossed near a bank and thought to run through the bank parking lot to get to Church Street. Ah, that was bare pavement. Till I got to the other part of the parking lot, behind the 1834 Jail. Not so bare. I found some tire tracks to run in.

It burns more calories, I kept telling myself. Burns more calories. When I wasn’t thinking that, the song played in my head that goes, “All I wanna do/ Is have some fun/ I gotta feeling/ I’m not the only one.” Then I’d change things up and think, “All I wanna do/ Is run, run, run/ I look around and/ I am the only one.” I did see a family walking, parents and a small boy. I was glad I had stayed on the sidewalk, to set an example for the younger generation.

It was a much better run than Thursday’s, so I felt I had been rewarded for my effort. Once the roads are bare again, I am SO going to rock the hill up to Herkimer County Community College. Stay tuned.

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