Archive for the 'Notes, Thoughts & Personal Expressions' Category



All Aboard the Memory Express.

I like spending time with my Father. It doesn’t happen often but when it does I cherish it. I think about him at least once every day but spending a block of time together is something really special.

The reason for his visit this time was the holiday train track for under the Christmas tree. This weekend I have been look forward to for years, scratch that… decades. Ever since I can remember I have wanted to make a track for under the tree. We just never had the space. Growing up my Father had made one. His was an HO scale set complete with roads, streetlamps, multiple tracks and houses that were colorfully lit from beneath. Some of my favorite holiday memories are traced back to the times I spent playing the engineer, robbing the local bank and having the sheriff come in to make the rescue while the ‘ol blue Norfolk and Western circled the city. The two pictures to the left are old Polaroid photos that I found that detail my Father’s preliminary track layout. I didn’t realize I had these. Coming across them last week in two separate locations within my own collection of train parts and pieces was the Geraldo Rivera find of the century. These two photos have not been together in a very long time. (Time to frame them and give them their proper artistic due.)

As for my track, Santa has been bringing us one HO scale house each year in anticipation of having the space to have our own track someday. After the season, the kids and I would sit around the kitchen table and over the course on a couple nights would build the house. Since Joey is 14 we have a city full of character. My brothers John and Dan and I, divided my Father’s houses up a few years ago that were on his track. So i have 5 additional houses, scattered within my own that makes our final city.

Tonight was fun. Laying out the track parts and arranging the houses. Spending time with Dad in my garage while spending time with Joey and Rebekah as they helped. They didn’t know Grandpa was there with us, and that’s fine. They don’t think about him like I do. I don’t expect them too. I know my Father was smiling when Rebekah went house by house asking “Is this one that Grandpa built?” What about this one? And this one?” Each time I pointed out the next Grandpa house, she’d pick it up and inspect it closely. I liked her comment when she said that “Grandpa was really talented. I wish I would’ve know him” I responded, “Yes he was Rebekah, yes he was. He would’ve loved you. And he would’ve spoiled you rotten.”

I’m glad we have the space in the new house to finally make this track. when I complete mine it will be an HO scale set complete with roads, streetlamps, multiple tracks and houses that are colorfully lit from beneath.

1991 Utica Chieftians

Jen, Billy, Me, Brett, Chris, and Chuck

20 years.

XCI=XX.

More time out that in. The 1991 Utica Chieftains (from MI not NY) celebrated in relaxed style at Snooker’s Pool & Pub Friday. 20 years out and there is the grim realization that life has battle tested us all. The 20 years have been harder on some, and easier on others. A few faces show the weariness beyond there age. Some look like they just stepped off the podium at graduation. Some classmates are married with kids, some divorced with kids. A few have come out, and some are happy being single. A few were transitioning to new professions while some were still unemployed from a depressed Detroit job market.

In every case, the friendships still persevered. The clicks still intact. I spoke with many classmates that I have not seen since the 10 year, and we picked up right where we left off. It’s funny how life is like that. Despite whatever cards life has dealt us. For 3 hours we forgot about all that was life and were transported back into the band room, to homecoming and prom, on the football field, in AP History, the auditorium at Cinderella rehearsals, and even elementary school, religion class, and recess. I would venture to say that most people needed the time away from life. I would be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate the 3 hour recess.

I looked around the room on Friday and thought to myself “Who was voted most likely to succeed? Did they live up? Who was voted The Prettiest? Well Dressed? Class Clown, Biggest Flirt, Most Intellegent?” 20 years removed do these superficial labels still hold up? I was voted “Most Creative” and “Most School Spirit” My pal Chuck was voted “Most Artistic” I can safely say the two of us have tried to uphold our end of the bargain. Have others? It would be an interesting exercise to revisit that list. I wonder if it’s in the yearbook? (If only I had been voted “Best Memory” Dammit!)

Here are 20 highlights from my 20 year high school class reunion:

1. There were a lot more people there than expected.
2. There were many people not there that I expected to see.
3. Sam’s response to Seth’s question: “So you graduated with us? Why don’t I remember you?” was classic… Sam responded, “well that’s okay I understand that you don’t remember me… I just only gave the commencement speech at graduation.”
4. John saying he was going to leave after 30 minutes and then staying for another 3 hours. I am glad he stayed.
5. Spilling beer and wine on a pool table is not frowned upon by the waitstaff.
6. Everybody loves a raffle. Even though it was B U L L S H I T that I didn’t win.
7. Three vodka martini’s. mmmmm.
8. The twins Todd and Tom’s name tag fight. At one point they read “Not Todd” and “I’m not the gay one.”
9. Reenacting a picture from the 10 year reunion and realizing we are a lot more colorful now. (I hope we all make it to see the 30.)
10. “Snooker’s Pool & Pub” should be renamed to “Snooker’s only 4 pool tables & 200 drinking poker players”.
11. Billy needs to be playing the blues guitar and raking in the cash.
12. Realizing that Dawn has an excellent memory, and maybe loves the Detroit Tigers almost as much, if not more than me. Her 2 boys are on probably cloud 9 since she won two of the Tigers prizes.
13. Chris… “Yeah, I flipped and Alfa Romeo in high school.”
14. Chuck’s artwork is still hanging in the band room. Courtesy of Chris.
15. Looking across the room at my former High School sweetheart and then realizing we’ve been married for almost 15 years.
16. Dave Essad’s quote that ended in “Mouthwash” is truly an off air story, and that his faith in the religion of Sarcasm is as strong as mine.
17. Realizing that Margo was more prepared for our reunion than the planning committee. (She graduated in 1992)
18. Rachel has a daughter that has already graduated.
19. Camp Tamarack was nothing compared to what fun Joel gets to have at his camp, and that my title as Creative Camp Counselor at StormFrog, has in fact, nothing to do with a real camp.
20. Wiley Elementary wins with the most in attendance at the nights end.

Thursday Night Hunting Season

Ugh. Third time’s a charm. Tried to get all savvy and write this post from my phone, then from my ipad. Both times I prematurely published the post before it was ready. Sorry about all the confusion. Now onto the real post:

When I come home from WBER on early Friday morning I usually am thinking about my pillow, looking for cops and looking out for the crazies on the road. Last Thursday got me thinking about a whole new danger. The deer.

The proximity of the new house allows me to take the back roads instead of the expressway when coming home from the radio station. It’s much faster and I’m home in a flash. I never see deer. Frankly, the time is pushing 2:30 am, and I rarely see anyone. However last week I got spooked by 4 deer crossing the road. I had to slow to a stop to allow them all to safely cross. I thought to myself how odd it was to see deer out so late and continued on my drive. About a mile later another deer started to cross the road. On the right I saw his eyes glint, he hesitated, the started to come on the road then thought twice. He turned and bolted back into the adjacent field.

Now I am on high alert. One of my biggest fears while driving is hitting animals. Especially deer. By the time I got to the village I caught up to another car. Less than a mile away from my house, a deer bolts from the left and the white Honda in front of me never had a chance to react. SLAM… the deer was struck and was now in the middle of the road. I stopped to see if the driver was okay, and I have to admit I was very apprehensive of coming up to the damaged car. It’s like that moment in E.R. where the doctors realize they are needed to help the victims of an accident and there is blood and broken bones everywhere. Except I would have no idea what to do. Thankfully the two young girls here both okay. They were shaken up. But they were both okay. Unfortunately for the deer he was still alive and immobile in the road. It looked like he was laying down watching us but it was clear that the reason he was not going anywhere was because he had major damage to his body. (I say he but I guess it could have been a doe, not really sure though.)

The driver called 911 and in moments there were squad cars, fire trucks and volunteer fireman on the scene. One of the policeman recognized the driver and it turns out this girl hit another deer a couple weeks ago, and he helped her then as well. She had just gotten her car back from the collision shop a few days earlier. Talk about bad luck. Her white Honda was crushed in on the driver’s side. The girls were safe and in good hands and the time was pushing 3:30am. I took my cue to leave when the one officer mentioned he needed to put the deer that had gotten hit down. I knew it was the right thing to do, but I didn’t want to be there when it happened.

When coming back from WBER, I need to not think about my pillow anymore and just worry about the road, the cops, the crazies, and now the deer. By thinking about these will ensure that I will safely find my pillow.

My 10 Adopted Rules of Thumb

I received a great gift today.

This gift as given to me by my good friends Adell and Dom on the eve of their wedding day. Few know this, but I will marry them tomorrow in an outside service at a local country club here in Western New York. Yes, I have been ordained. No I’d rather not debate the humor of the previous statement. Instead I’d like to talk about the gift. It’s a framed poster titled: My 10 adopted rules of thumb, and it’s pictured above. I wish i could take credit for this list and the design, but alas it was done by someone else. Adell and Dom know me well, and they also know this is something I would really enjoy. They nailed it. As their reward I will nail the framed poster on my office wall, and enjoy it every time I pass by. For me there are very few gifts that surpass framed art with personal meaning, especially the ones least expected.

And the list is as follows:

My 10 Adopted Rules of Thumb

1. If you are in love with an idea you are no judge of it’s beauty or value.
2. It is difficult to see the whole picture when you are inside the frame.
3. After learning the tricks of the trade, don’t think you know the trade.
4. We hear and apprehend what we already know.
5. The dog that stays on the porch will find no bones
6. Never state a problem in the same terms it was brought to you.
7. If it’s off beat or surprising it’s probably useful.
8. If you do not expect the unexpected, you will not find it.
9. Don’t get to serious.
10. If you hit the bullseye every time the target is too near.

Musical Morphine

For me, there are very few things in this world that can compete with experience of listening to good live music. Something about watching a person, band or group pour their entire selves into what they love, to produce sound, to make music is extremely good times, potato salad. If the artist or group, messes with time signatures, masters the tight formations of start and stops, involves dramatic crescendo’s to great high’s, decrescendo’s to soulful lows, is filled with rich harmony and jaw dropping vocals I’ll be hooked like a bass fish on the mighty Mississippi.

While biology tells me I hear via the eardrums, I know the music really enters my body through the fingertips, and travels up the tendons like a superhighway to the brain. While it’s on its way, the music seeps into the bone marrow of my bones… depositing little hits of musical morphine along the way. It may sound abstract. A tad odd, maybe even corny, but this is what listening to good live music does for me. To say my heart aches with good vibrations is an understatement.

Tonight I saw the band Chamberlin again with my pals T.C. and Grant Taylor. An upstart Vermont band on the tail end their first headlining tour. They played an the club side of Water Street Music Hall in downtown Rochester. The setting is intimate. The stage is small, and you are fortunate to be close to the artists. There is no hiding behind the distance for the musicians or the guests. It’s obvious when either side is not engaged, so both better bring the energy. I am fond of this band. A couple months ago I interviewed Mark and Eric from Chamberlin at 90.5fm WBER the last time they were in town. Two great guys that I would have back at the studio at any point. If you have the time, look them up on Spotify, iTunes, or whatever music outlet you choose.

This was a night I needed. I spent most of the concert with my eyes closed. Letting the live music do it’s thing. While it doesn’t truly clean my soul I will gladly take the hit of musical morphine, and survive for another day.

The Sinking Titanic

I have always liked Halloween. Something about one day that allows each person the freedom to be something outside their normal selves. To live for a brief moment what it’s like to be a wizard, or have the respect of a firefighter, or the command of an entire room as a simple black cat. The candy was an added bonus. As a graduate of the College of Creative Studies, it almost comes with the degree. Creative = Love Halloween. Ever since the Mayernik Trio came around I have had a new found love for the holiday. I have made costumes for the kids ever since they could walk. There was Junior Asparagus, The Boardwalk Monopoly Card, R2D2, the Crayola Crayon Box, the Legos and more. But now it’s different. Joey, Rebekah and Aaron would rather do their own thing now. the store bought… the closet scrounge… the borrowed costume. I would like to think that I could will my love of Halloween on them, but alas it’s not the case (I might still have a shot with Aaron). Shouldn’t be surprised I guess. Julie’s still doesn’t like the holiday.

This year was the first year that Joey was not even with me for the night. He opted to trick or treat with his friends. Again, shouldn’t be surprised. He is a Freshman.

An end of a era for me and my love of Halloween. It’s just not the same now. The kids are quickly outgrowing the trick or treating. The brain says it’s time to let go, but the heart wants to plan the costume for next year. I think the brain will win the fight. As irony has it, I wore my Sinking Titanic costume out when I went out trick or treating Monday with Rebekah and Aaron. I didn’t realize the irony until i got home.

Sinking Titanic. Like my love for Halloween.

Play Defense.

Play Defense. That’s what Mike May told me in Memphis, Tennessee minutes before going in to meet my client for the first time. (The picture on the left is from one of our trips, drawn in December of 1999. Mike was a few rows ahead of me.) His philosophy was clear. Don’t open your mouth and say something stupid that you will be remembered for the duration of you tenure. He said “Just listen the first time. Take mental notes. Resist the urge to comment or make suggestions. Let them come away with the notion of ‘Hey, Joe’s a good guy, I like him’, in the long run they will trust you more when you do make strategic suggestions. Then you can sell more creative and have some fun, and this job will be much easier.”

So that’s what I did. Some of my fondest advertising memories came from those monthly trips to Memphis, talking to guys like Crutchfield, Frank Black, and Randy. Mike’s play defense strategy worked like a charm. It was the one piece of advice I took with me. And he was right, The job got much easier. What Mike failed to tell me was when to turn this little gem of advice on and off. Guess that was for me to figure out on my own. There were times this year where I used it a little more than I should have, and at times I did not employ it enough.

Over the last four months I have played defense a lot more. I have been in several situations where I remained quiet, and unfortunately my silence translated into outcomes that were different than the ones I was screaming in my head. And for the record screaming in my own head, answering questions or responding to statements between my own eardrums is very unproductive, and give the person, client, friend or family member I am with a big zero. I need to think back to why Mike told me those words many years ago, and try to understand that what he was really trying to tell me. What he really meant was “First impressions are everything. Listen first. Take mental notes next, and respond with informed answers last, so that you can do what is in the best interest of the client. After you do that feel free to speak your mind with confidence and as often as you’d like.”

I feel like I at times have let some people down as a result of playing defense over these last four months, Julie included. So if I am quiet when I am with you, punch me in the shoulder. Remind me that I should no longer play defense as much and just speak my mind with confidence.

Consequences be dammed.

Am I Going Blind?

Focused. That’s what I’m going with.

Now before you form your own opinion as to the content of this post after reading the title, let me back up… I think this post needs a little back story. The location of the new house is in a section of the city that has me take the back roads to work rather than the expressway. I like it. The drive is peaceful. Passing farms with grazing goats and rolling acres of corn, and I get lost in thought while enjoying a lifestyle reminiscent of a simpler time. It’s a solid half hour drive. I rarely see traffic, and the trek is easy to navigate. The only downside is the wretched horse/goat/farm smell if I get stuck at a certain light. Okay back to the post.

Focused. That’s what I’m going with. I missed my turn while going to work this week. Which really is not that big of a deal. It turned my half our drive into 45. I did have to drive through Fairport. Endure the railroad tracks and the lift bridge over the canal. All of this could have been avoided if I had not missed my turn. Like I said, it’s really not a big deal except for one thing. It’s how I missed my turn which has me so concerned. I don’t remember anything at all of the drive up to Fairport. All of a sudden it was BOOM, I am there. Saying “Shit! When did I miss my turn.” Seriously do not remember the drive up to that point at all. It was like I was driving blind for 6 miles. Now my eyes were not closed. I was just on auto pilot for a bit while i thought of “my things to do for the day” i guess.

So, what does this mean? I am a super hero with a robotic brain that allows me to function at a higher level without the use of my eyes? Or I have too much going on, and I should not get lost in thought while driving since it most likely leads to a car accident. (Yes, the second option is a bit more plausible.)

Or maybe I am just focused. Yeah, that’s what I’m going with.

The Trees

Outside of the StormFrog offices there are trees that line the very long driveway connecting Main Street Fishers and the parking lot. These trees over the last three months have been trimmed by one man who looks to be in his 60′s. He trims one tree per day. I never really figured out the pattern of when he is there, but I suspect it’s dependent on the weather. I’ve got to say it has been enlightening to watch him work. He slowly works around each tree, trimming the low branches. Using his ladder to get the ones out of his reach. He would methodically break them the branches and places them in the bed of his truck. This has been a clinic in patience. He stops at one tree. He doesn’t over do it. Doesn’t take on more than his truck can hold. After three months he has a few more trees to trim, and the ones he has trimmed look fantastic.

Even though I’ve never spoken to him, I get the message he is telling me loud and clear.

The Bedtime Routine

School starts on Wednesday and with it comes bed times, early mornings and mass chaos before the bus clicks on the red lights and slowly comes to complete rest at the new stop. What also comes is an opportunity again to reacquaint the Mayernik household with some normal routines. For me, it’s getting to tuck the kids in at night. With Summer vacation and the house renovations in the mix, normal routines have been smashed into small pieces. Some normalcy would be welcomed in my head right about now.

Nightime rituals have changed over the years from childhood stories, to reading books, bathtime, and heart to heart talks. One thing that has not changed are the prayers and what my kids call the “God Song”. It’s a song by Michael Card titled God’s Own Fool. When my oldest son Joey was a small toddler I got in the habit of singing this song to him after prayers. Naturally, I also sang, and still sing, to Rebekah and Aaron. It has evolved into a nice tradition that I look forward to when I tuck them in. Now at the ages they are at they know the words. They sing along and it makes them smile which in turn makes me smile. The message of the song is clear: Follow God’s own fool.

Most of Michael Card’s songs are a bit preachy for me and they don’t really find their way from the ipod catalog to the earphones, but this one I find to be particularly good. It has a bit of humor disguised in an otherwise preachy message. And that I appreciate. With Joey going into High School this year he has graduated past me sitting by his bed side at night saying prayers and singing the song. He says prayers on his own now. Maybe he sings the song in his head, maybe not. But I am sure it crosses his mind, and I hope when they are blessed with children. they sing the song too when bedtime calls.

The added layer here is that for their First Communion I sang this song for each of them during their services. It was a nice exclamation point to years worth of singing for, and with them. I’m glad I started singing this song so many years ago. I don’t know why or how it started, I’m just glad it did.

In a flash Joey is starting High School. In a flash Rebekah is 5 foot 1. In a flash Aaron is 9. Where has the time gone? I shake my head sometimes at the humor of it all. The first day.. three new schools, new friends, new bus stops, new home… and thankfully holding on to some old favorite routines.

Here are the Lyics to the song in case you are interested:

Gods Own Fool by Michael Card

Seems I’ve imagined Him all of my life
As the wisest of all of mankind
But if God’s Holy wisdom is foolish to man
He must have seemed out of His mind
Even His family said He was mad
And the priest said a demon’s to blame
But, God in the form of this angry young man
Could not have seemed perfectly sane

We in our foolishness thought we were wise
He played the fool and He opened our eyes
We in our weakness believed we were strong
He became helpless to show we were wrong
So we follow God’s own Fool
For only the foolish can tell
Believe the unbelievable, come be a fool as well

So come lose your life for a carpenter’s son
For a madman who died for a dream
And You’ll have the faith His first followers had
And you’ll feel the weight of the beam
So surrender the hunger to say you must know
Find the courage to say I believe
For the power of paradox opens your eyes
And blinds those who say they can see

We in our foolishness thought we were wise
He played the fool and He opened our eyes
We in our weakness believed we were strong
He became helpless to show we were wrong
So we follow God’s own Fool
For only the foolish can tell
Believe the unbelievable, come be a fool as well

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