What a Week: The Way Birthday's Were Meant to be Celebrated
I can't even begin to tell you how exuberating/exhausting my week back in NJ over the fourth of July was, but I'll do my best to quickly recap, well recap anyway.
Day one. Heather and I were greeted by an east-coast-classic as we stepped off the plane Saturday morning, Dunkin Donuts, hand delivered to the terminal by mom and my sister Carissa. Indulging in coffee far better than any $4.00 latte and a doughnut that no granola-head could turn down, this was the power-breakfast symbolizing just how fantastic my trip would be.
We rushed home where preparations were already underway for the Heritage Olympics, a neighborhood spectacle involving a collaboration of strengths: mental, physical, and liver. The all day event naturally rolled into the late evening and Trey wins the award for...Lets not even go there, lets just say that he had a nice permanent-marker drawing of a window and some other features sketched on him, next to Kelly (but not like that you sicko's; he's married). I hosed off Kelly Snell's dinner (pizza of course) from the driveway to end the night.
My birthday was celebrated with cake, candles, and singing under fireworks; ONE.
Time for rest? I didn't think so. The next morning we awoke early to enjoy Taylor Ham, egg and cheese sandwiches on a hard roll (obviously) and the orange juice never tasted so good. A slew of "Olympic athletes" found themselves on one of 7 couches in the house, and a reconvening on the deck over breakfast found Cara (the neighborhood "bully") back in the saddle with Bud Light, a handle of Baileys, and a few small children (can't guarantee the attendance of the children however); what a trooper.
Off we went soon after to what was supposed to be a relaxing one-night excursion down the shore (that's a trip to the NJ beach/ocean for all you out-of-staters). Hot, but not hung-over, we spend the next 2 hours in the beautiful sunshine admiring shoulder-riders and cell-phone towers as we crawled along the Garden State Parkway, wondering how much further ahead we'd have been had we abandoned the car and skipped down the highway. Needless to see we aborted our trip after gaining 25 miles in two hours. The Shore would have to wait.
We returned to Randolph and spent much or our remaining day poolside at Lupo's (where my brother Danny had resuscitated a 5 year old drowning victim back from dead weeks earlier after hearing the call go out on his radio from across the street) with the familiar crowd and beverages, finishing at Jay's lakefront with Trey's successful attempt to out-do most professional fireworks' displays. We flipped 'cup' late into the night. I believe it was this night that was capped off with 'bully-induced' dip in the Herold hot-tub (almost a Lupo dip, but the bully and her counterpart "Blue" were talked down).
My birthday was celebrated with cake, candles, and singing under fireworks; TWO.
Day three saw running errands, seeing people, Barry's ball-throwing contests at the pool, looking at a home where Danny saved a fellow firefighter from falling through the second floor earlier that day at the 4am hour (all the usual), followed by another trip across the street to Club Lupo poolside. Club Lupo again turned into tournment flipping at Arthur TrexDeck Bar. Spotlight Campo women Nina and Cara for their valiant participation on work nights, and for shaking off injury and staying in the game well beyond curfew.
Tuesday glimpsed at reality a bit (I was beginning to wonder) with a Babyak meeting of the financial minds, and a portion of that day was spent prepping for our tenative Adirondack mountains trip, which included a hit-and-run accident on Goof's brand new truck and the most shady Marina business, even by NJ standards, in Jefferson. Chris, Goof, and I ended up hoisting a wave-runner into the truck-bed at 11pm under moonlight, and a 4am planned departure time. But wait! What's this? The 8 of us have to pile into Goof's new truck and go to the bars in Morristown? The question seemingly always got asked not 'why', but 'why not', so off we went until closing time and I held my own armwrestling a large Defensive End home from school. People were dumbfounded.
Goof arose after repeated calls at the crack of 9am, right on time, and we were off and running by 11. Lake George brought overcast and sun, warm water, cheap dining with 'townies', bunk house sleeping, Emily, Turtle Rock, water skiing and wave runner problems. Words can't describe the tranquilly all these things bring over someone and it's as time-honored a tradition for me as you could ever imagine. One night was all we had in us so back we ventured Thursday night.
In case you've been keeping track, sleep hasn't made the top-ten list of things to accomplish while on vacation, so tired was an understatement, but an un-received one. At this point waking up at daybreak seemed common and comfortable, much like any boot-camp, and so Friday morning arose untested and mounted our trip to Great Adventure (Six Flags for the out-of-staters) for the Freedom Festival (with a stop at Alfa Bagel of course), a day-long raising of support for the families of fallen soldiers, raising money for those soldiers' children to attend college free of charge. The likes of Sean Hannity, Col. Oliver North, Leanne Rimes, etc. built support for the event. Sean hosted his radio show live from the park, Oli signed books with other celebs, and Leanne and others threw a fantastic show to cap the night.
Did I mention it rained? It poured. Which was all the better for someone like me whose now 25 going on 15, because ride-lines were non-existent and only the die-hards weathered the storm. Coasters were ridden 10-times without de-boarding and people pointed and stared as Chris, Jeffrey and I rode the Log Flume water rides, finally making our feet as wet as the rest of us. Sneaking into the after-party and being protected by security with the rest of the untouchables only helped establish that Friday as a day not soon to be forgotten.
It couldn't get any better, but it did.
Just another crack of dawn day on Saturday, only this time it was to travel back to the south side of Jersey to the racetrack for an SCCA racing event, and my first experience with this caliber of autocross racing. This was the real deal with scoring, sponsorship, and season-long national titles on the line, and Chris and Greg have been devoting months of time and money (and part of Goof's face) towards being competitive.
I loved the adrenaline but hated the guilt of spending my second-to-last day on the track instead of at home with everyone. Sae-la-vee, I was excited. I took 2nd Place in-class and Chris and Greg took 3rd and 4th respectively in their faster-cars class. It was a great day of racing for the boys from Randolph, NJ and we won't soon be off peoples' radar and forums. How'd they do that will be wondered for quite some time, but really it's an easy answer: Dad, Integras, Hockinheim.
Rain cut the day short, and it was one of God's finest hours, as the boys had no intention of leaving early. We Jumped back on the Parkway and I pulled up to the house for the surprise of my life.
Being completely oblivious to the astronomical amount of cars halfway down Edgewood Terrace, chalking it up to yet another party in the neighborhood, as that's what this neighborhood does better that anything else, I calmly pulled past the cars and up the driveway. What I saw next was stunning. All tucked away behind the house were over 100 constituents well into a surprise birthday party; my surprise birthday party!
I was completely overwhelmed and it didn't even click that all these people were here for me right away. Friends up from Kentucky, families I hadn't seen in years, cousins with totally new dispositions in life since the last time I saw them, all there to surprise me on my 25th. I can't say I didn't stand in awe fighting back tears for a moment in the driveway with everyone yelling surprise, but I didn't really now how else to react to such an onslaught of love and kindness. I made my way towards the already-well-served mob and began the hugging and hellos. After an hour I still hadn't gotten to everyone. Just the same I hopped in the catered buffet line that the servers had laid out and began indulging. About that time the DJ started his routine and the full bar and two kegs started showing their legs.
Thanks to all of you who were able to make it out, making that day so special. It was an honor to have you celebrate with me and you'll never know how much it was appreciated.
Naturally day grew into night, the party started loosening up both in numbers and neckties, and dancing took center-stage, while others flipped cup, played pool, chatted, streaked, got drawn on, Beirut (pong), etc, etc, etc. 4am shut this party down and couch-space was maximized.
My birthday was celebrated with cake, candles, and singing under fireworks; THREE.
Hoping that Sunday, the day of my departure, would never come, the early morning (relatively speaking of course at 9 or 10am) saw tired eyes and awkward moments for some, but as we sat down to bagels (as if anything else would suffice) under the umbrella of a beautiful sun, I couldn't help but recollect the serenity of my time in NJ, in Randolph, with family (friends being just that), and it made me happy to have done so much all week.
No trip is over without a football game, so we quickly rounded up the troops and headed to Freedom Park for an Arthur's vs. game against arch-rival competitor Sassaman and co., and as always (both times we've played Arthur's vs.), we were victorious. Spotlight Heather as she continues to keep her reputation as Secret Weapon, this time pulling in some great catches, but especially for running down Barling at full-speed with the full-sprawl dive for the heels that I can assure you no one else on that field would have done (except maybe Jeffrey), saving the touchdown. We finished the afternoon by accomplishing the one task my mother had asked of us boys when I first arrived (and actually well before my arrival, but whose counting), by splitting the last of the wood from our downed tree. Billy and Jeffrey threw their backs out supporting the cause. A quick dip in the, where else, Lupo pool, persued, and it was off to a quick pack and fantastic Italian dish (as if you didn't already know that) before scrambling to the car, scrambling threw the airport, and wondering if our luggage would greet us at Baggage Claim. Would I have it any other way?
Day one. Heather and I were greeted by an east-coast-classic as we stepped off the plane Saturday morning, Dunkin Donuts, hand delivered to the terminal by mom and my sister Carissa. Indulging in coffee far better than any $4.00 latte and a doughnut that no granola-head could turn down, this was the power-breakfast symbolizing just how fantastic my trip would be.
We rushed home where preparations were already underway for the Heritage Olympics, a neighborhood spectacle involving a collaboration of strengths: mental, physical, and liver. The all day event naturally rolled into the late evening and Trey wins the award for...Lets not even go there, lets just say that he had a nice permanent-marker drawing of a window and some other features sketched on him, next to Kelly (but not like that you sicko's; he's married). I hosed off Kelly Snell's dinner (pizza of course) from the driveway to end the night.
My birthday was celebrated with cake, candles, and singing under fireworks; ONE.
Time for rest? I didn't think so. The next morning we awoke early to enjoy Taylor Ham, egg and cheese sandwiches on a hard roll (obviously) and the orange juice never tasted so good. A slew of "Olympic athletes" found themselves on one of 7 couches in the house, and a reconvening on the deck over breakfast found Cara (the neighborhood "bully") back in the saddle with Bud Light, a handle of Baileys, and a few small children (can't guarantee the attendance of the children however); what a trooper.
Off we went soon after to what was supposed to be a relaxing one-night excursion down the shore (that's a trip to the NJ beach/ocean for all you out-of-staters). Hot, but not hung-over, we spend the next 2 hours in the beautiful sunshine admiring shoulder-riders and cell-phone towers as we crawled along the Garden State Parkway, wondering how much further ahead we'd have been had we abandoned the car and skipped down the highway. Needless to see we aborted our trip after gaining 25 miles in two hours. The Shore would have to wait.
We returned to Randolph and spent much or our remaining day poolside at Lupo's (where my brother Danny had resuscitated a 5 year old drowning victim back from dead weeks earlier after hearing the call go out on his radio from across the street) with the familiar crowd and beverages, finishing at Jay's lakefront with Trey's successful attempt to out-do most professional fireworks' displays. We flipped 'cup' late into the night. I believe it was this night that was capped off with 'bully-induced' dip in the Herold hot-tub (almost a Lupo dip, but the bully and her counterpart "Blue" were talked down).
My birthday was celebrated with cake, candles, and singing under fireworks; TWO.
Day three saw running errands, seeing people, Barry's ball-throwing contests at the pool, looking at a home where Danny saved a fellow firefighter from falling through the second floor earlier that day at the 4am hour (all the usual), followed by another trip across the street to Club Lupo poolside. Club Lupo again turned into tournment flipping at Arthur TrexDeck Bar. Spotlight Campo women Nina and Cara for their valiant participation on work nights, and for shaking off injury and staying in the game well beyond curfew.
Tuesday glimpsed at reality a bit (I was beginning to wonder) with a Babyak meeting of the financial minds, and a portion of that day was spent prepping for our tenative Adirondack mountains trip, which included a hit-and-run accident on Goof's brand new truck and the most shady Marina business, even by NJ standards, in Jefferson. Chris, Goof, and I ended up hoisting a wave-runner into the truck-bed at 11pm under moonlight, and a 4am planned departure time. But wait! What's this? The 8 of us have to pile into Goof's new truck and go to the bars in Morristown? The question seemingly always got asked not 'why', but 'why not', so off we went until closing time and I held my own armwrestling a large Defensive End home from school. People were dumbfounded.
Goof arose after repeated calls at the crack of 9am, right on time, and we were off and running by 11. Lake George brought overcast and sun, warm water, cheap dining with 'townies', bunk house sleeping, Emily, Turtle Rock, water skiing and wave runner problems. Words can't describe the tranquilly all these things bring over someone and it's as time-honored a tradition for me as you could ever imagine. One night was all we had in us so back we ventured Thursday night.
In case you've been keeping track, sleep hasn't made the top-ten list of things to accomplish while on vacation, so tired was an understatement, but an un-received one. At this point waking up at daybreak seemed common and comfortable, much like any boot-camp, and so Friday morning arose untested and mounted our trip to Great Adventure (Six Flags for the out-of-staters) for the Freedom Festival (with a stop at Alfa Bagel of course), a day-long raising of support for the families of fallen soldiers, raising money for those soldiers' children to attend college free of charge. The likes of Sean Hannity, Col. Oliver North, Leanne Rimes, etc. built support for the event. Sean hosted his radio show live from the park, Oli signed books with other celebs, and Leanne and others threw a fantastic show to cap the night.
Did I mention it rained? It poured. Which was all the better for someone like me whose now 25 going on 15, because ride-lines were non-existent and only the die-hards weathered the storm. Coasters were ridden 10-times without de-boarding and people pointed and stared as Chris, Jeffrey and I rode the Log Flume water rides, finally making our feet as wet as the rest of us. Sneaking into the after-party and being protected by security with the rest of the untouchables only helped establish that Friday as a day not soon to be forgotten.
It couldn't get any better, but it did.
Just another crack of dawn day on Saturday, only this time it was to travel back to the south side of Jersey to the racetrack for an SCCA racing event, and my first experience with this caliber of autocross racing. This was the real deal with scoring, sponsorship, and season-long national titles on the line, and Chris and Greg have been devoting months of time and money (and part of Goof's face) towards being competitive.
I loved the adrenaline but hated the guilt of spending my second-to-last day on the track instead of at home with everyone. Sae-la-vee, I was excited. I took 2nd Place in-class and Chris and Greg took 3rd and 4th respectively in their faster-cars class. It was a great day of racing for the boys from Randolph, NJ and we won't soon be off peoples' radar and forums. How'd they do that will be wondered for quite some time, but really it's an easy answer: Dad, Integras, Hockinheim.
Rain cut the day short, and it was one of God's finest hours, as the boys had no intention of leaving early. We Jumped back on the Parkway and I pulled up to the house for the surprise of my life.
Being completely oblivious to the astronomical amount of cars halfway down Edgewood Terrace, chalking it up to yet another party in the neighborhood, as that's what this neighborhood does better that anything else, I calmly pulled past the cars and up the driveway. What I saw next was stunning. All tucked away behind the house were over 100 constituents well into a surprise birthday party; my surprise birthday party!
I was completely overwhelmed and it didn't even click that all these people were here for me right away. Friends up from Kentucky, families I hadn't seen in years, cousins with totally new dispositions in life since the last time I saw them, all there to surprise me on my 25th. I can't say I didn't stand in awe fighting back tears for a moment in the driveway with everyone yelling surprise, but I didn't really now how else to react to such an onslaught of love and kindness. I made my way towards the already-well-served mob and began the hugging and hellos. After an hour I still hadn't gotten to everyone. Just the same I hopped in the catered buffet line that the servers had laid out and began indulging. About that time the DJ started his routine and the full bar and two kegs started showing their legs.
Thanks to all of you who were able to make it out, making that day so special. It was an honor to have you celebrate with me and you'll never know how much it was appreciated.
Naturally day grew into night, the party started loosening up both in numbers and neckties, and dancing took center-stage, while others flipped cup, played pool, chatted, streaked, got drawn on, Beirut (pong), etc, etc, etc. 4am shut this party down and couch-space was maximized.
My birthday was celebrated with cake, candles, and singing under fireworks; THREE.
Hoping that Sunday, the day of my departure, would never come, the early morning (relatively speaking of course at 9 or 10am) saw tired eyes and awkward moments for some, but as we sat down to bagels (as if anything else would suffice) under the umbrella of a beautiful sun, I couldn't help but recollect the serenity of my time in NJ, in Randolph, with family (friends being just that), and it made me happy to have done so much all week.
No trip is over without a football game, so we quickly rounded up the troops and headed to Freedom Park for an Arthur's vs. game against arch-rival competitor Sassaman and co., and as always (both times we've played Arthur's vs.), we were victorious. Spotlight Heather as she continues to keep her reputation as Secret Weapon, this time pulling in some great catches, but especially for running down Barling at full-speed with the full-sprawl dive for the heels that I can assure you no one else on that field would have done (except maybe Jeffrey), saving the touchdown. We finished the afternoon by accomplishing the one task my mother had asked of us boys when I first arrived (and actually well before my arrival, but whose counting), by splitting the last of the wood from our downed tree. Billy and Jeffrey threw their backs out supporting the cause. A quick dip in the, where else, Lupo pool, persued, and it was off to a quick pack and fantastic Italian dish (as if you didn't already know that) before scrambling to the car, scrambling threw the airport, and wondering if our luggage would greet us at Baggage Claim. Would I have it any other way?
posted by Jonathan at 1:27 PM
2 Comments:
I wouldn't call it so much of a 'membership' as I'd call it 'initiation'. Like any good Fraternity or Secret Society (i.e. The Edgewood Secret Society), one must pass the tests and challenges set forth by the Red and Blue council (Cara and Carissa), deeming themselves worthy of inclusion. Just ask the Foodman's; they can attest to this.
Once one passes those tests they are invited to Club Lupo any time they desire, invitation coming directly from Red and Blue of course, apparently without the permission of the Club Lupo operaters. (I would equate Club Lupo to Bada Bing's in the Soprano's, only the women are much better looking at Club Lupo).
San Diego is having a Hot Rod Halloween on Sunday, October 30. If you love auto body part then you will want to be there! All kinds of auto body part will be in attendance. For more information go to auto body part
See Ya There!!
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