All Hallows Eve - in the middle of the day

Manchester is a weird town. It’s a place where I’ve watched a man shout “ah, shut up!” at a passing ambulance’s (apparently annoying) siren. It’s a place where the local motel has a sign reading “Stay for a night… Or a lifetime.” It’s a place where, if I walk or ride my bicycle to work, people are astounded.

I only live about two miles from my office.

The political aspects are fun, as we are an epicenter of sorts for the NH primaries, as well as the presidential race in general. It’s certainly true that you are provided with multiple opportunities to meet any candidate on any ticket. The day after the elections, however, it is as the circus left town, pulling up the stakes and hurrying out on a midnight train. Even they don’t want to linger. Then we are just left with the town itself.

I’ve been here for nearly five years, and I can’t wait to leave.

One of my ongoing peeves is the insistence on “celebrating” Halloween on the Sunday before, in the middle of the day. Thus, last Sunday, (October 26), from 1-4pm was the “official” time for trick or treaters.

We also celebrate the fourth of July on July 3rd.

This year’s non-Halloween Sunday was a beautiful, sunny day. It was broad daylight. It was not Halloween. As a result, there wasn’t much Halloween spirit in the house minus our two black cats. Who, incidentally, were sleeping in the sun as it was the middle of the day.

The amount of kids that show up varies year to year. In our early years here we stocked up on candy (which we put in a special cauldron, even) only to have three kids show up at the door the entire time.

Two years ago, the neighbors’ grandson (who I’m guessing was around 12 at the time) came to the door dressed in a basketball jersey, big jeans, and sunglasses. I asked what his costume was and he said he was a rapper, pointing to a stretch limo parked on the street. Apparently his grandfather had rented it/borrowed it from one of his potentially crooked friends (a blog story for another blog day) as the cornerstone of his costume.

He was trick or treating for candy, but wasn’t going to walk? No effort and all the reward? I was not impressed. I thought I’d make him work for it, which was admittedly not the nicest thing I could have done. I asked him to show me his skills. Give me one small rap. Show me something in character. Even I can bust out the lyrics to “Jump Around” or numerous other 90’s gems upon command.

He looked at me quizzically and pointed at the limo again. No rap emerged.

I still gave him a full size candy bar, as that’s the kind of girl I am.

Slowly but surely we’ve cut back on the candy purchasing, until this year, when we finally didn’t bother at all. All we had to work with was some leftover items from a night of making s’mores.

(As a side note, that meant we had both plain chocolate bars and peanut butter cups. Try branching out with the s’more making components– delicious!)

And, well, you know where this is going… We had a small crush of kids this time around, all looking very cute in their various witch, ghost, zebra, action hero, etc. costumes. I tried to avoid them, but I made the mistake of stepping onto the stairs (I’d been hiding upstairs), thus exposing a living human being to the eyes peering intently through our front window.

I opened the door to at least 10 kids eagerly hoisting bags at me, and I didn’t have enough for all of them. I made some sort of silly joke about how they were going to crush my entire supply, and then tried to pick those kids that looked like they were holding lesser-full sacks. I ran out completely, and some kids simply had to go without.

Not without candy, mind you. They seemed to have plenty of candy. Just without candy from me. Still, I felt pretty bad that I had to look in their little eyes, shrug my shoulders, and simply wish them a Happy Halloween. Even thought it wasn’t Halloween, and they weren’t looking for my good wishes. They just wanted the sugar.

It was a small costumed nightmare, and I am so happy that this is my last year of this silly non-Halloween Halloween.

Falmouth, by way of New York

This weekend is the annual Falmouth Road Race, a beautiful 7 mile course. It is my first year running it (had to get in by lottert), and I'm very much looking forward to it. I've heard only good things, and I know a few folks who are running it this year, so all in all I will be in very good company.

Initially P and I thought we'd spend some time on the Cape as long as we had to head to Falmouth (which, if you look at a map of MA, is the flabby part of the upper arm that forms the Cape). We have yet to make the pilgrimage to Provincetown this year, and thought this might be the time. Park ourselves on a beach, eat some good food, people watch, ride bikes along the dunes, etc.

Then P had a flash of brilliance: instead of the 4 hour drive to the tip of the Cape, how about heading to NYC instead? "This is the weekend we should head to Coney Island," she said. Brilliant, that girl.

Shockingly, this pair of NY Jews (her from Manhattan and me from Long Island) has never been to Astroland. We, who shaped our honeymoon around rollercoaster parks east of the Mississippi, have never ridden the Cyclone. And sadly, this is the final season the amusement park that graces the place. The property has been sold, and will be developed in to something that seems to be more Disney than Brooklyn. It's sad.

At least the Cyclone will be preserved, given it's national landmark status and ownership by the City of NY.

We have also been wanting to head to the MOMA to see the Richard Serra exhibit. The images I have seen are quite striking, and in person the enormity will be brought home. I have a small fear that I will feel like I am walking through a giant steel maize maze, but I'm keeping an open mind.

Looks like there's also a documentary about the font Helvetica showing. What is it about typeface that intrigues me so? We see it all the time, in various formats, yet there always seems to be a cool history attached if you take the time to look for it. Did you know Helvetica is considered "the official typeface of the twentieth century?" Methinks I'm about to get to know this little sans serif friend better.

Given the weather predicted for the weekend, and the possibility of flash flooding, I'm thinking we'll head to the museum today, and then Coney Island tomorrow. This is a switch in plans, as we were hoping to go to Coney Island on a non-weekend day. Saturday afternoon we'll leave the city, head up the coast, and find some place to stay on the way to Falmouth.

This may also be the trip that we allow ourselves to walk through the doors of the three story Container Store that is around the corner from where we are staying. All of those pretty stuff-holding objects and promises of organization have a dangerous cash sucking ability.

As for the road race, which originated this whole trip in the first place, my game plan is to run today (hello, Central Park!) and take Saturday off. Even if it rains I should be out there on the road. I went for one of the wettest runs in a while earlier this week, where my socks just became puddles and my shorts simply clung to my legs. Felt good to be out there, though. Sort of like swimming on pavement. Somehow it reminded me of my early days of running when I only went out at night and ran through the snow and ice. At that point I wore any old cotton t-shirt and sweatshirt, insulated rugby pants, and whatever socks I had that seems cushy. Compared to those days, this is nothing.

Saturday I must remember to drink lots of water and eat food that provides some good fuel, even though it will mean being on the lookout for bathrooms while we are inevitably wandering about the city streets.

On a completely random note, I know the HRC presidential debate on gay issues was held last night. One of the three people on the questioning panel was Melissa Etheridge. Really? I like her and all, but is she going to become our Bono?

First of the (long) season

This morning I had the opportunity to attend a small house party for Hillary Clinton. This was her third stop on her NH trip, stopping first in Berlin, then Concord, then Manch. I think she has another engagement or two prior to leaving the Granite State. Reason #1 I will never run for President: the schedule.

I'm sure she started in Berlin due to the recent paper mill closings up there, and used this as a platform to speak to the point that new jobs that could be created if the government actively supported more environmentally sustainable industries. The crowd at this morning's event wasn't hard to convince...

She was better than I anticipated - less soundbite and more substance. Even her sense of humor was on (ex: "why we can't find the tallest man in Afghanistan is beyond me").

One of the ideas spoken about both in her introduction by our host and during her schpeal was the reminder that this country is not an inevitability, but rather a fortuitous set of events. history really is the outcome of one decision following another. That concept is so often lost in the debates. Before things get too negative along the campaign trail, I'm going to keep reminding of this notion, knowing that we are large enough to be resilient from even the worst of decisions. If we ever want to have friends across the globe, we'd better be!

Social science and running therapy

Yesterday wrapped up one of the more frustrating weeks I've had at work in a long time. Pressure from all sides to give definitive answers on ideas that franky are not developed. Trying to manage projects without the authority to actually manage anything. I was pretty much ready to quit and start up a business selling other people's crap on eBay, or walking dogs (even in this freezing weather).

Perhaps it is connected to the recent pseudo-scientific study revealing this week to be the worst of the 52 in a year, with Monday the 24th standing out as the worst day. How do I know it to be true? It's simple math:

Worst day of the year = 1/8W+(D-d) 3/8xTQ MxNA

The key to the above formula is as follows:
W: Weather
D: Debt
d: Money due in January pay
T: Time since Christmas
Q: Time since failed quit attempt
M: General motivational levels
NA: The need to take action

There are several flaws in the formula, including the assumptions that one celebrates Christmas, one overspends on holiday shopping, and one creates some sort of resolution each New Year. In fact, I would imagine that Christmas actually causes more stress, given all the family obligations. And all that annoying holiday advertising... That said, I think I'd move T to the numerator, counting the time since Xmas as a positive operator.

Others agree with me that there are some flaws to be found here. Reading through some of the comments on the article linked above, there are some gems. My personal favorite: "Rubbish - I was born on this day and I light up everyone's life."

One of the things saving me this week was the simple act of running. Not only did it warm me up as the mercury dropped (and dropped, and dropped again...), but it also just helped to stop my mind from spinning out of control.

I tried to stay outside as much as I could, although yesterday I gave in and hit the indoor treadmill. To make that a little less boring, I started playing with the settings every 1/2 mile or so. Incline change here, speed change there... Definitely made it a bit more interesting. Here's the breakdown, according to my Nike+ thingy:

It's been a pretty good week for miles, and technically I could still add to this week's count if I was so inspired. Sitting here in my pajamas, however, I am not sure that will happen. The miles from last night helped to keep me on top of a little running challenge I'm part of. I post it here because it is shocking to me that I could be in first place. Yes, that is my dorky comment on the right...

I'm in two other challenges at the moment. Participants are from who knows where, and the top four people just blow the rest of us out of the water in terms of miles. While I clock in just over 200 miles, the top folks are closer to 850. How can that be real? Still, I'm happy that I'm closing in on the top 50.

While it's fun running with strangers, I sure wouldn't mind if some folks I actually know would get hooked into this. Or maybe we can create something outside of the Nike+ gadget. A little healthy competition amongst friends? Winner picks the restaurant? Anyone in?

Ending this post is a little piece of news I just got last night. I think I am going to a small house party next Saturday to meet Hillary Clinton. Ah, the benefits of living in Manchester, NH during presidential campaigns. I already had to turn down the opportunity to meet Barack Obama (which I'm still sad about). What should I talk to her about?

Tomorrow I shall sleep past 7

This week I felt like an actual New Hampshire resident. Yesterday I made the time to volunteer to help with the inaugural festivities of our Governor, John Lynch. My big political contribution? Handing out yogurt.

It was a fun job, actually. More than handing out local dairy goodness, it was more of a schmooze opportunity. Say hello and thank you to the state employees, try and foist a yogurt or three on them, make small talk. The only down side was that I had to be there at 6:30. Which meant getting up around 5:45. Psychologically, getting up before the first number reads 6 is tough.

The flow of the event was well done, with people entering the main hall (where I was) for coffee and yogurt, and then being directed either to a photo op line (with the Gov and his wife) or a breakfast line. Either the breakfast line was slow, or the photo line was fast, because it was clear that the wait was much longer for food.

In a weird way, I didn't want to leave the event. Between enjoying my minor task, enjoying the time I was spending with the other volunteers and staff, and just a general sense of happiness at being involved in a small way with our state government, I was feeling happy about being a New Hampshire resident. Maybe I don't need to head back to Boston after all... Ask me again in three years. :)