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Are E-Readers The Ticket? 6; Day-by-Day Event Listings, 12;
U.S. 1 Takes a Midsummer Break — Next Issue August 11.
Business Meetings
Preview
Opportunities
Singles
Jobs
Contents
No Parachute Needed:
The Rip Chords will play their 1964
hit “Hey Little Cobra” and other
favorites at the Record Collector in
Bordentown, Saturday, July 31.
FROM
10
28, 20
Y
L
U
©J
THE
Our annual
collection of
summer reading
– 24 poems and
26 short stories –
begins on
page 11.
READERS
OF
7
12
46
48
54
52
U.S. 1
Meet the writers:
Join U.S. 1 for
a reception on
Thursday, August 12,
from 5 to 7:30 p.m.
at Labyrinth Books
on Nassau Street.
Will any of our fiction writers ever
be as prolific as Ann Waldron?
Richard K. Rein reflects on the life
of the Princeton author of literary
biographies, children’s books,
and murder mysteries, which
Page 58.
inspired this cover.
Princeton's Business and Entertainment Weekly
Telephone: 609-452-7000. Fax: 609-452-0033
Home page: www.princetoninfo.com
2
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
Last week’s cover story on
Princeton area private clubs that
Richard K. Rein
Editor and Publisher
Jamie Saxon
Preview Editor
Scott Morgan
Business Editor
Lynn Miller
Events Editor
Sara Hastings
Special Projects
Craig Terry
Photography
Barbara Figge Fox
Senior Correspondent
Vaughan Burton
Production
Bill Sanservino
Production Manager
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Account Executives
Lawrence L. DuPraz 1919-2006
Founding Production Adviser
Stan Kephart – Design1986-2007
Michele Alperin, Elaine Strauss,
Joan Crespi, Simon Saltzman,
Euna Kwon Brossman,
Bart Jackson, E.E. Whiting,
Richard J. Skelly, Doug Dixon,
LucyAnn Dunlap, Kevin Carter,
Helen Schwartz, Anna Soloway
Contributors
U.S. 1 is hand delivered by request
to all businesses and offices in the
greater Princeton area. For advertising or editorial inquiries call
609-452-7000. Fax: 609-452-0033.
Or visit www.princetoninfo.com
Copyright 2010 by Richard K. Rein
and U.S. 1 Publishing Company,
12 Roszel Road, Princeton 08540.
her father, Hal Ross, who ran the
market research firm Mapes and
Ross for many years at Research
are becoming increasingly visible Park, grandmother Phyllis Grainger, and brothers Peter and
on the business netBrian Ross.
working scene was penBetween
We express our concilled onto our story list
dolences
to her family,
several months ago. But
The
her colleagues at Gallup,
we needed a person and
Lines
and to her many, many
a club to serve as a focal
friends who gathered at
point.
That problem was solved easily the Nassau Club to celebrate her
enough on Wednesday, June 16, bright but brief life.
when U.S. 1 hosted a reception for
entrepreneur-astronaut Greg Olsen
and the co-writer of his autobiography, Tom Lento. One of the first
In our July 21 account of the
people to show up was an outgoing, pleasant young woman named New School for Music Study’s rich
Jennifer Ross, the director of mar- history of music education, we
keting for the Gallup Organization gave the Kingston-based school
at 502 Carnegie Center. We soon credit for more longevity that it acdiscovered that Ross, a graduate of tually has. The school is celebratthe University of Nebraska who ing its 50th anniversary, not the
did post-graduate study at Oxford, 60th, as our headline and several
was also an enthusiastic member of references in the article indicated.
the Nassau Club and she immedi- The celebration begins with a jazz
ately offered to support our effort concert on Tuessday, August 3.
to find out more about the club and
its members.
But for the fact that she was just
too busy, Ross might have been the
person on our cover on July 21. But
events played out in another, totally unexpected and tragic way. Jennifer Ross, 40, died on July 18 of a
IN REBUTTAL to the comments
sudden illness. She is survived by
made in the July 21 article “Energy
Was Cheap — Hope You Enjoyed
It” by Stephen Morgan, CEO of
American Clean Energy in Saddle
U.S. 1 TAKES its annual
Brook, I question the basis of Morsummer break: There will be
gan’s assumptions that energy
no issue on August 4. We will
costs “must” rise, given that he
resume our weekly schedule
“spent most of his career with First
on Wednesday, August 11.
Energy,” a Texas-based Big EnerOn Thursday, August l2, we
gy company.
will host a reception for all
As for opinions from the New
writers who submitted work
Jersey BPU, anyone who has ever
to our Summer Fiction issue.
had direct contact with spokespeoAll readers are invited. See
details on page 25.
Continued on page 4
New School’s 50th
To the Editor:
Another View Of
‘Cheap’ Energy
Summer Break
INSIDE
Survival Guide
4
Green Opportunities are Plentiful
Are E-Readers the New Blogosphere?
Corporate Angels
Business Meetings
4
6
7
7
Princeton Chamber Newsletter
8
Summer Fiction
11
Preview
12-49
Day by Day, July 28 to August 11
Opportunities
At the Movies
U.S. 1 Singles Exchange
12
46
47
48
Fast Lane
Classifieds
Obituaries
Jobs
Richard K. Rein
50
52
52
54
58
For advertising or editorial inquiries, call 609-452-7000. Fax: 609-452-0033.
Mail: 12 Roszel Road, Princeton 08540. E-Mail: [email protected].
Home page: www.princetoninfo.com
© 2010 by Richard K. Rein.
For articles previously published in U.S. 1, for listings of scheduled events far
into the future, consult our website: www.princetoninfo.com.
The U.S. 1 Sneak Preview edition is E-mailed weekly.
It contains highlights of the next issue, and links to key websites.
For a free subscription, send a request to [email protected].
Copyright 2010 Richard K. Rein and the U.S. 1 Publishing Company.
Company Index
Amazon, 6; Bristol-Myers
Squibb, 7; College Nannies & Tutors of Princeton, 10; ETS, 7.
Gallup Organization, 52; Gannett Fleming Inc., 52; Honeywell
Utility Solutions, 4; Johnson &
Johnson, 51; Liquid Light, 50;
MISTRAS Holdings Group, 51.
NJM, 7; Novo Nordisk, 9; P.C.F.
Distribution, 52; Phrog Personal
Training Studio, 10; Princeton University, 6; Rivermark LLC, 8.
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JULY 28, 2010
U.S. 1
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Between the Lines
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Basic Course:
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ple from BPU can attest to the fact
that in New Jersey, BPU consistently takes the biased pro-Big Energy position versus the consumers.
BPU consistently passes rate increases onto consumers. PSEG is
the best example of this. Two rate
increases in four years when
American Natural Gas publicly
stated that there was an abundant
supply of natural gas? Using increased numbers of consumers as
the excuse to pump energy prices
is becoming the common excuse
seen in a very different light when
a single energy company earned
more in one fiscal quarter of the
worst recession in January, 2009,
than it earned in 10 years.
High energy consumption is a
term that can easily be bandied
about. Given the Enron debacle
that caused quadrupling of energy
costs in California, without factual
basis in the late 1990s until the discovery of fraud in 2001, it is far
easier for pro-Big Energy supporters to insist that continuing costs
must rise without limit.
The costs rise in order to sustain
huge profits. This is the reason
many New Jerseyans are making
the switch to solar energy and why
New Jersey and California are now
leading the nation in the switch to
alternative energies.
In my opinion, this particular
editorial needed a less biased view
than that of cronies of Big Energy.
Eleanore Whitaker
Old Bridge
While Whitaker is the office
manager of Ambient Engineering
at 5 Crescent Avenue in Rocky
Hill, she says her views of the energy market are solely her own.
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EDITOR:
SCOTT MORGAN
[email protected]
Thursday, July 29
Green Opportunities
Are Still Plentiful
S
unil Tewarson, project
manager of the energy efficiency
program for Honeywell Utility Solutions, could be a poster child on
how to make the switch from a career with diminishing prospects to
a green job.
After 19 years in the telecommunications sector, working for
AT&T, Bell Labs, Lucent, and Alcatel-Lucent, he was suddenly
downsized in August, 2008. The
pragmatic Tewarson, trained as an
electrical engineer, quickly asked
himself two questions: What is an
area that will be around for a long
time? What is something that I
have a passion about?
The answer was the burgeoning
industry around energy conservation, energy efficiency, and renewables.
His first idea was to start a business, so he took a six-week course
leading to a certificate in entrepreneurship. Picking the green area as
his focus, he did a competitive
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analysis, planned a marketing
strategy, and analyzed whether he
would be successful. In the process
he learned a lot about job opportunities in the field.
“I found trends of where money
was being spent,” he says, citing in
particular a survey on green jobs
by the Association of Energy Engineers. He learned, for example,
that the United States government
is putting money into making the
defense forces leaner and greener
and retrofitting federal buildings
and courthouses. “There’s going to
be lot of investment in buildings,”
says Tewarson. “Between homes
and commercial buildings, the
amount of energy and waste produced is very high,” he says.
In February he started managing
the New Jersey Comfort Partners
program of Honeywell Utility Solutions. Funded by the seven gas
and electric utilities in New Jersey,
this program serves low-income
families by making their homes as
efficient as possible and educating
them about conservation. The program is funded entirely by the utilities, and Honeywell serves as their
general contractor for energy audits, homeowner education, and
bringing in specialists for air-conditioning and heating work.
Tewarson will share his expertise in a class on green jobs on
Thursday, July 29, at 7 p.m. at Mercer County Community College.
The class is part of the college’s
green future management certificate program, where managers
who have either lost a job or want
to change careers will explore the
latest information on sustainable
practices and projects. Cost: $35.
Visit www.mccc.edu/ccs or contact the college at 609-570-3311 or
[email protected].
Energy conservation. Conservation starts with simple things
like shutting off a television before
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JULY 28, 2010
going to sleep or switching to fluorescent bulbs and low-flow shower
heads. Or it can require significant
investments in insulation or highefficiency appliances. Energy auditors and technicians will be needed to help home and building owners determine whether a structure
is losing significant heating or
cooling and what the owners must
do to fix an problems.
Energy efficiency. One major
area of inefficiency in the United
States is the power grid, which is
old and faces major problems sustaining itself as demand grows.
The inevitable rebuilding of infrastructure will eventually generate jobs, but in the meantime, smart
grid strategies that reduce demand
are also creating new positions.
With demand response, the home
or building owner allows the utility
to manage the temperature in exchange for incentives like rebates.
If the utility is experiencing peak
demand in one area that it cannot
handle, then real-time negotiations
might ensue with managers of
large-scale commercial buildings.
Potential new jobs would be additional facilities managers, energy managers to interact with the
utility company, and service people to install and monitor the devices that regulate energy use.
Another growing area is energy
and environment design to conserve energy, improve efficiency,
and make buildings safer. A smart
design is one in which a house’s
orientation, the slope of its roof,
the color of its roof tiles, and the
height of its windows all contribute
to efficient energy use. If landlords
can prove that a building is healthier, safer, and will cost significantly
less to run, they can also raise the
rent. The necessary monitoring of
this and other areas is creating a
new specialty of green law.
Green In Green:
Sunil Tewarson says
green opportunities
are plentiful and here
to stay.
Renewables. “What sustainability really means is: Can something renew itself with close to zero human intervention?” says
Tewarson. “The sun will come out,
and we know there will be rainfall,
even though it will vary.”
In the effort to increase renewable energy, jobs are growing in the
solar, wind, and hydro areas.
Tewarson offers the growing solar
panel industry as an example.
“They are still expensive but will
get to the point where demand will
go up, and they will go down in
price,” says Tewarson. He adds
that an area now being developed
are thin films that act like solar
cells.
One resource that is diminishing
in many places on the globe is water, and as a result green design has
started to be used in landscaping.
‘There’s going to be
lot of investment in
buildings, where, the
amount of energy and
waste produced is
very high.’
“If you use native plants — native
to a certain ZIP code or region —
you don’t need to irrigate as
much,” says Tewarson. In what is
called xeriscaping, plants only
need irrigation during their first
year. This is important in a country
like ours that uses drinking-quality
water for irrigation and for toilets.
And of course watering has other unwanted side effects. “When
you are doing that, you are burning
fuel somewhere, creating carbon
gases,” says Tewarson.
For people looking to move into
the green area, Tewarson suggests
pursuing certifications in project
management, Six Sigma, and
LEED. Also useful is a broad understanding of energy management, which can be had through
several green organizations. One is
the Green Building Council, which
has chapters in many cities and
countries and hosts many green
events.
Another organization is the Association of Energy Engineers and
its World Energy Engineers Conference. Many green vendors attend, and Tewarson notes that entrepreneurs who supply green materials constitute yet another kind
of green job. They supply materials
like paints without volatile organic
compounds, carpeting using tree
sap instead of synthetic glue, bamContinued on following page
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JULY 28, 2010
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boo floors, radiant heating circulating in pipes under the floor, and
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Tewarson was born in Massachusetts while his parents, natives
of India, were students. His father
studied physics at MIT and returned to India to become president
of a university; his mother studied
psychology at Northeastern.
After graduating from college in
India in 1987 with a bachelor’s in
electrical engineering, Tewarson
earned a master’s in electrical engineering at SUNY Stony Brook.
His first job was with CPC/Best
Foods/Muellers, supervising a
team that oversaw the plant’s operations and production efficiency.
Later he worked as an engineer at
Bell Laboratories, he led quality
testing, training, and demonstration for a new product launch.
Tewarson then became a strategic marketing manager at AT&T,
developing new markets that included the Department of Transportation’s use of fiber optics for
electronic toll collection; sensors
for ice, flood, and detection of accidents and breakdowns; and electronic signal controls. He then became director of business develop-
ment for Alcatel-Lucent.
Tewarson emphasizes that the
whole green area is not only a boon
for the environment, but one that
makes financial sense for individuals and businesses. “If you have
large inefficiencies, you could be
losing on the financial side and on
climate and the planet,” he says.
Through green design, improved
energy efficiency, and renewables,
businesses can bring down operating costs 20 to 40 percent, he says,
while creating thousands of jobs in
a growing industry.
— Michele Alperin
Tuesday, August 3
Can the Paperless
Office be Far Behind?
A
few years ago Amazon
changed the publishing game by
introducing the Kindle, an electronic reading device that lets you
digitally store as many as 40,000
full-length E-books. Competitors
in the book world (like Barnes &
Noble) and the electronics world
(like Sony) immediately followed
Amazon’s lead. Right now there
are roughly 30 E-book readers taking a bite out of Kindle, and all
scrambling to keep up with it.
In the face of this competition,
Amazon has engaged a number of
universities, including Princeton,
to see whether E-readers have any
place in the classroom. Last fall the
Office of Information Technology
at Princeton conducted a pilot program that had three main goals —
reduce the amount of printing and
photocopying; find out whether Ereaders could equal or improve on
paper textbooks; and provide suggestions for future devices.
Janet Temos, director of the
Educational Technologies Center
at Princeton University, was involved with the project, and what
she helped figure out is that yes, Ereaders do save printing, but no,
they do not necessarily save paper.
Students usually use textbooks and
handouts as makeshift notebooks
— comments in the margins, highlighted passages, et cetera. With
their textbooks on an E-reader,
Temos says, students ended up
simply taking more notes in notebooks. “We were really just offsetting the printing,” she says.
Still, Temos is a devotee of Ereaders (she has two Kindles, so
she doesn’t need to worry about
when to charge the batteries) and
says their place in the non-academic world should be quite solid.
Temos will present “Electronic
Book Readers,” a free workshop
on the ABCs of E-readers, at Ewing SeniorNet on Tuesday, August
3, at 1:30 p.m. at 999 Lower Ferry
Road. Visit www.ewingsnet.com
or call 609-882-5086.
Temos earned her bachelor’s in
architecture from Lehigh University in 1991 and a master’s in art history from Williams College in
Massachusetts a year later. She
then started on her doctorate in architectural history at Princeton,
E-books offer a new
line of marketing, but
don’t expect to retire
on the income they
will generate.
which she finished in 2001. She
worked on multimedia projects for
the school’s academic services division, and that led to her being
named director of the school’s Educational Technologies Center,
which seeks to incorporate technology into teaching environments.
E-love. Like any bookworm,
Temos had assumed that paper was
the ultimate technology for books.
When Kindle came along, she was
unimpressed, until — like most Ereader fans — she tried it herself.
Besides its storage capacity, she
says, E-readers are far easier on the
eyes than computer screens (which
are harshly backlit) and paper
pages (which need a lot of light
shining on them). They also make
it easy to change the size of the
font. And her favorite feature of all,
E-readers do not do anything else.
The major advantage E-readers
had for students in the Princeton
study, Temos says, was that with no
color, no advertising pop-ups, and
no ability to connect to the Internet,
the devices did not distract students. There is no temptation to
drift off and check E-mail or Facebook. Just you and the text.
E-Business. But do E-readers
have much to contribute to the
business world? Recent evidence
suggests yes, with a however. According to Inc. magazine, E-readers are becoming a more common
outlet for self-publishers, especially where business tomes are concerned. Astep up from blogging, Ereaders allow business marketers
to write mini-E-books and sell
them through sites like Amazon.
JULY 28, 2010
Before the dollar signs ring up in
your eyes, though, understand that
while there is a need for content,
business E-book publishers are
facing the same problem they face
with blogs — how to monetize
content. Until you build your name
as an expert, no one will pay to read
what you have to say, so patience is
the watch word.
Beyond that, Inc. makes the case
for information storage. A lawyer,
for example, could have volumes
of documents at his fingertips,
weighing only a few ounces, and
available from anywhere.
iLove. For all their advantages,
E-readers are held up by their own
simplicity. And in an age when we
are used to having the entire web
on our cell phones, the soft gray
virtual page of a Kindle seems a little boring.
“Everybody believes the iPad to
be the deal-changer,” Temos says.
And Apple’s much-hyped, supersized iPhone has already intrigued
colleges enough to develop courses using it. Rutgers, in fact, is in the
throes of its newly launched “MiniMBA” in digital marketing, which
uses the iPad as the source of text
and the notebook (see U.S. 1, July
14).
But the much-hyped iPad is also
the much-maligned iPad. Sure it
offers the chance to download and
store E-books, but the iPad has disappointed many of its owners.
Weird wi-fi connections (including
a since-fixed propensity to knock
out existing wireless connections
on other computers in an iPad’s
vicinity), low battery life, overheating, and an awkward typing
setup top the complaints lists, according to numerous tech and consumer magazine, as well as Apple
itself.
People might want more whizbang than a simple page-colored
screen, Temos says, but she is un-
sure whether we’re there yet,
where E-readers are concerned. Ereaders are built to do only one
thing, and because of that, battery
life is extremely long (several days
in constant use for the Kindle, in
fact), E-readers are comfortable to
hold, and they do not have enough
moving parts to cause much trouble.
So Temos will stay hooked on
her Kindles, though she acknowledges that its position as the Ebook medium of choice might
change as technology advances.
“The device is less important than
the information,” she says.
— Scott Morgan
Corporate Angels
Bristol-Myers Squibb and
ETS are offering special camp
scholarships for area families
through the Stony Brook-Millstone Watershed Association’s
Camp Scholarship Program. The
scholarships provide one-week of
camp to economically disadvantaged Trenton children grades 1 to
6. The Watershed Association’s
Nature & Environmental Summer
Day Camp exposes city children to
the organization’s 860-acre Watershed Reserve in Hopewell
NJM, an insurance company
based in West Trenton, recently
raised $5,350 at Family Night at
Waterfront Park (Trenton Thunder)
for Special Olympics.
Business Meetings
Thursday, July 29
9:30 a.m.: Edison Chamber, “Discovering Your Memory Power,”
Matthew Goerke, $20. Raritan
Center Parkway. 732-738-9482.
5:45 p.m.: SCORE Princeton,
“Small Business Workshop Series,” Part 3 of 5: “Marketing
Plan,” $40. Princeton Public Library, [email protected].
609-393-0505.
Friday, July 30
10:30 a.m.: Professional Services
Group, weekly career meeting,
support, and networking for unemployed professionals, free.
Mercer County One-Stop Career
Center, Yard Avenue, Trenton.
609-292-7535.
Monday, August 2
9 a.m.: Dale Carnegie Training,
“How To Sell Like A Pro,” threeday course, $1,695. Route 130,
Bordentown, [email protected]. 609-3249200.
Tuesday, August 3
7 a.m.: BNI Ivy League, weekly
networking breakfast, free. 100
Overlook Center. 732-960-1730.
8 a.m.: Mercer Chamber, “How
Going Green Boosts Your ROI
and the Local Economy,” $40.
Trenton Country Club. 609-6899960.
2 p.m.: Ewing SeniorNet, “Electronic Book Readers,” Janet
Temos, Princeton University Educational Technologies Center,
free. 999 Lower Ferry Road. 609882-5086.
7:30 p.m.: JobSeekers, Networking and support for changing careers. Free. Parish Hall entrance,
Trinity Church, 33 Mercer Street.
609-924-2277.
Wednesday, August 4
Thursday, August 5
8 a.m.: Mercer Chamber, Robbinsville chapter, breakfast networking, $10. The Pines at Robbinsville, [email protected]. 609-336-0108.
8:30 a.m.: Dale Carnegie, “High
Impact Presentations,” $1,800.
Route 130, Bordentown. 609324-9200.
10 a.m.: NJIT Procurement Center, “Government Contracting For
Small Business,” free. NJIT. 973596-3105.
11:30 a.m.: Princeton Chamber,
“Social Network Analysis to ID
Peer-to-Peer Physician Learning
Networks,” John Eichert, $60.
Princeton Marriott. 609-924-1776.
Friday, August 6
10:30 a.m.: Professional Services
Group, weekly career meeting,
support, and networking for unemployed professionals, free.
Mercer County One-Stop Career
Center, Yard Avenue, Trenton.
609-292-7535.
Monday, August 9
5:45 p.m.: SCORE Princeton,
“Small Business Workshop Series,” Part 4 of 5: “Financial Projections,” $40. Princeton Public
Library. 609-393-0505.
U.S. 1
Got a Meeting?
Notify U.S. 1's Survival
Guide of your upcoming
business meeting ASAP.
Announcements received
after 1 p.m. on Friday may
not be included in the paper
published the following
Wednesday.
Submit releases by mail
(U.S. 1, 12 Roszel Road,
Princeton 08540), fax (609452-0033), or E-mail ([email protected]).
All events are subject to
last minute changes or cancellations. Call to confirm.
7:30 p.m.: Princeton PC Users
Group, Free. Lawrence Public Library, [email protected]. 609423-6537.
Tuesday, August 10
7 a.m.: BNI Ivy League, weekly
networking breakfast, free. 100
Overlook Center. 732-960-1730.
5 p.m.: Mercer Chamber, Beer
Tasting networking, $40. Dublin
Square restaurant, Route 130.
609-689-9960.
PERSONAL PAPERWORK SOLUTIONS
...And More, Inc.
609-371-1466
Insured • Notary Public • www.ppsmore.com
Are you drowning in paperwork?
Your own? Your parents’? Your small business?
Get help with:
• Paying bills and maintaining checking accounts
• Complicated medical insurance reimbursements
• Quicken or organizing and filing
7 a.m.: BNI West Windsor chapter,
weekly networking, free. Macaroni Grill. 609-462-3875.
9 a.m.: Fred Pryor Seminars, “Mistake-Free Grammar & Proofreading,” $149. Days Hotel, Route 18,
East Brunswick. 800-780-8476.
Linda Richter
7
Specialized Services for Seniors and
their families, and Busy Professionals.
8
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
Champions for Business
T
Pharmaceutical Marketing,
Social Networking, and the Internet
Letter from the Chairman
O
n NPR this week I heard an
economist refer to the three-and-ahalf years of this bad economy and
my reaction was, “Has it really
been that long?”
It is interesting that in those
same three-and-a-half years your
Princeton Regional Chamber of
Commerce has, in fact, been thriving; thriving with new Members,
thriving with better attendance at
our events, and thriving with more
stimulating, informative and educational programs. The Chamber’s
positives are driven by the fact that
it is providing more and better
services to your membership at a
time when you need it. Whether it’s
marketing, “how-to”, or simply
networking and meeting new customers, more Members are using
the Chamber than ever before.
And, in spite of the heat wave,
this summer is no exception. Just
look at the programs in store for
you from now through Labor Day:
* The Monthly Membership
Luncheon Meeting on Thursday,
August 5, will feature John
Eichert, Principal, Rivermark,
LLC, and truly a genius in marketing. Eichert will speak about
“Pharmaceutical Marketing, Social Networking, and the Internet.”
Intricate social networks can influence everything from our body
weight to the drugs we take. “Net-
works and relationships influence
the way the world works,” says
John, referring to research conducted by Nicholas Christakis and
James Fowler, authors of “Connected: the Surprising Power of
Social Networks and How They
Shape Our Lives.”
* The Thursday, August 12,
Business After Business Networking Reception will be hosted by our
friends at Phrog Personal Training
Studio, conveniently located at 376
Wall Street in Princeton. You can
snack it up and work it off all at the
same event.
* On Wednesday, August 18, the
Business Before Breakfast Meeting will be hosted by Novo Nordisk
in their caf‚ at 1100 Campus Road
in Princeton. Dr. Per Falk, PhD, of
Novo Nordisk’s Clinical Development & Regulatory Affairs, will be
the guest speaker and will address
the benefits of a healthy lifestyle to
both employees and their employers. August is a slow month for so
many of us because of vacations,
but this program is a “must-attend”. And in attending this, and all
of our programs, there is so much
to learn and so many people to
meet you can’t lose by coming.
* Finally, on the heels of the
very successful Mid-Summer Marketing Showcase in Palmer
Square, Peter Crowley and the
M
J. Robert Hillier, FAIA
Founder and Principal,
J. Robert Hillier;
Chairman of the Board,
Princeton Regional
Chamber of Commerce
Chamber staff now begin planning
for the next signature event. Mark
your calendars for the Annual
Business Trade Fair and Culinary
Showcase which will take place at
the Westin at Princeton Forrestal
Village on Monday, September 27.
With more than 100 exhibitors and
constant traffic, there will be unlimited opportunities throughout
the day for networking and meeting new contacts with food tastings
and other attractions you won’t
want to miss!
So . . . let me see you there!
Respectfully yours,
J. Robert Hillier, FAIA
arketing expert John
Eichert will explain at the Princeton Regional Chamber’s Monthly
Membership Luncheon on Thursday, August 5, how intricate social
networks can influence everything
from our body weight to the drugs
we take.
The meeting, held at the Princeton Marriott Hotel & Conference
Center, will begin at 11:30 a.m.
with a special reception featuring
non-profit healthcare organizations showcasing their products
and services, followed by the program, which will conclude at 1:30
p.m. Cost to attend is $40 for
Chamber Members and $60 for
non-members. Please reserve in
advance at www.princetonchamber.org or by calling 609-9241776.
“Networks and relationships influence the way the world works,”
says John Eichert, CEO of Rivermark LLC, referring to research
conducted by Nicholas Christakis
and James Fowler, authors of
“Connected: the Surprising Power
of Social Networks and How They
Shape Our Lives.”
These invisible social networks,
suggests John, influence both consumer health behaviors and the decisions of their doctors.
Like consumers seeking trusted
opinions before making a big purchase, physicians turn to their social networks when new innova-
John Eichert
Founder and CEO,
Rivermark LLC
tions become available. John
Eichert’s firm has taken the lead in
using advanced research and analytic methodologies to identify local, regional and national learning
networks, or invisible colleges,
that facilitate physician learning
about new innovations.
“We ask health care professionals (e.g., physicians, nurses, pharmacists) who they talk to and who
they go to for advice when treating
specific diseases or conditions,”
notes John Eichert.
Like us, doctors learn best
through networks.
JULY 28, 2010
From the Princeton Chamber
How a Healthcare Focus Can
Increase Your Company’s Bottom Line
P
er Falk, M.D.,
Ph.D., Associate Professor, and vice president of Clinical Development, Medical
& Regulatory Affairs
at Novo Nordisk, will
speak at the Princeton Chamber’s Business after Business
Breakfast Meeting
on Wednesday, August 18, in the cafe‚
of Novo Nordisk’s
new location, conveniently located near
Route 1 at 1100 Campus Road, Princeton. The meeting will begin at 7:30 a.m. with
registration and networking, followed by the program and
breakfast. It will adjourn at 9:15 a.m. Cost to attend is $25 for
Chamber Members and $40 for non-members. Please reserve
in advance at www.princetonchamber.org or by calling the
Princeton Regional Chamber at 609-924-1776.
The recently passed healthcare reform bill means a new day
for wellness programs. The healthcare and insurance industries
are going to change drastically and in
order to remain profitable, health insurers are going to have to redevelop
their business models. Many feel that
the number of health incentives offered by employers to their employees
will increase substantially, thus resulting in lower healthcare premiums for
employers.
Per Falk, M.D., Ph.D. is vice president for Clinical Development, Medical and Regulatory Affairs for Novo
Nordisk North America. In this position, Dr. Falk leads clinical research
and medical affairs in endocrinology
and biopharmaceuticals, as well as
regulatory affairs and medical communications.
Dr. Falk joined Novo Nordisk in
2002 as a vice president to establish
the Experimental Medicine unit in
Denmark. Later he served the company in Tokyo where he was responsible
for drug development and market authorization of Novo Nordisk’s medical entities in Japan and Australia. In
2008 Dr. Falk transitioned to the United States as the associate vice president of Clinical Development & Medical Affairs — Diabetes & Metabolism where he was responsible for
clinical development and medical affairs for all of Novo Nordisk’s diabetes and metabolism products, including those in development, and on
the market.
Dr. Falk has served as a lecturer and
associate professor at Karolinska Institute, as well as a post-doctoral fellow and instructor in molecular biology and pharmacology at the Washington University School of Medicine in
St. Louis. He is a reviewer for a dozen
scientific journals and co-author of
numerous publications.
Dr. Falk earned his M.D. and Ph.D.
from the University of Gothenberg in
Sweden. He trained in laboratory
medicine at Sahlgren University Hospital and internal medicine/gastroenterology at Karolinska University
Hospital.
A Special
Invitation
A
s a special highlight of the
August 5th Monthly Membership
Luncheon, the Chamber is offering to its non-profit healthcare
Member organizations or their
Foundations, the opportunity to
share their products and services
with the business community. For
additional information, please
contact Deborah Kilmer, Director
of Communications, [email protected]
609-924-1776
ext. 104.
U.S. 1
Sustaining Sponsors 2010
With great appreciation, the Chamber thanks the following companies and organizations
who have shown their support and loyalty to the Princeton Regional Chamber of Commerce
by becoming Sustaining Sponsors. Our Sustaining Sponsors enable us to take the Chamber
to an advanced level which allows the resources for greater benefits and enhanced
programs and events to our members and the business community.
PLATINUM
Bristol-Myers Squibb, Tyco International, Fox Rothschild LLP,
Bank of America/Merrill Lynch
GOLD
Verizon, NRG Energy, Leigh Visual Imaging Solutions, Glenmede, Paychex,
PSE&G, Nassau Inn, Capital Health
SILVER
Buchanan Ingersoll & Rooney P.C., Marke Communications, Nelligan Sports Marketing, Inc.,
Heartland Payment Systems, Eden Autism Services, Hopewell Valley Community Bank,
Brown Dog Marketing, J. Robert Hillier, Thomas Edison State College, The Kennedy Factor
BRONZE
The Bank of Princeton, Bartolomei Pucciarelli, Bloomberg, Bovis Lend Lease Inc., CareersUSA,
Community Options, ETS, Mercadien, Munich ReAmerica, Ortho-McNeil-Janssen Pharmaceuticals Inc.,
PNC Bank, Princeton Air Conditioning, Princeton Fuel Oil, Princeton HealthCare System,
Princeton Internet Group, Princeton University, Sarnoff Corp., SES, Stevens & Lee, TD Bank,
WithumSmith+Brown
9
10
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
The Princeton Chamber
Welcomes Its Newest Members . . .
A Simpler Life Concierge, Inc.
Able Mechanical
American Cancer Society
EKS Associates
Executive Wardrobes
B. Classics
Image Arts Etc.
Kumar Pathak LLC
Lighthouse Business Group-NJ LLC
New Horizons CLC of Princeton
Princeton Self Storage
Provence Catering
Riddlesbrood Theater Company
Rocketseed (USA) Inc.
Tees For Change
Villeroy & Boch USA Inc.
williams-BUILDER
Wilmington Trust
Kathy Kowrach
Erik Haug
Kristen Apen
Darren Zagarola
Dan Howard
Howard Beckerman
James Lee
Poonam Bhuchar
Jonathan Haas
John Peluso
Elinor Barrera
Elizabeth Kelly
Ryan Long
Scott Ellis
Andreea Ayers
Becky Smith
Harry H. Williams
Delia Dandridge
Business Services
Heating/Air Conditioning
Organizations
Financial Services
Retail
Retail
Retail
Attorneys
Financial Services
Information Technology
Moving and Storage
Catering
Entertainment
Internet Marketing
Retail
Retail
Construction/Renovations
Banking
. . . and Its Renewing Members
Allegra Print & Imaging
Ameriprise Financial Services Princeton
Assure Shred
Churchill & Harriman
Community News Service LLC
Fred Astaire of Princeton
Hyatt Place Princeton
Interiors by Decorating Den
Karsay Coffee
Le Tip of Princeton
Main Street Catering
Meadow Lakes Senior Living
Mercer Corporate Interiors
Monday Morning Flower
& Balloon Co.
Morven Museum & Garden
Nassau Club of Princeton
Olives Bakery & Deli
PNC Bank N.A
Princeton Marriott
Hotel & Conference Center
Princeton Online
Princeton Scoop
Princetonian Graphics
Residence Inn by Marriott
South Brunswick
Sun National Bank Center
Tier Publishing LLC
Trenton Thunder/The Grand Slam
“We Care”
Van Note-Harvey Associates P.C.
29th Annual Trade Fair
& Culinary Showcase
Monday, September 27
Westin Princeton Forrestal Village
More than 100 Exhibitors, food tastings, unlimited networking opportunities
and more than 1,000 attendees throughout the day!
For information contact Cheri Durst, Director of Special Events
[email protected], (609) 924-1776 ext. 105.
CANON SUMMER SPECIAL!
Buy • Sell • Trade
Powershot
SX210 IS
Reg: $34995
Sale:
$32995
EOS 7D
EOS Rebel XSI
EOS Rebel T2I
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$159995
12x36 IS
Business Growth – It’s All About Strategy
I
know that listening is the best
membership strategy. What I’ve
heard from many of our new Members is that joining the Chamber is
the easy part; making it work for
them takes effort and planning.
As a former Chamber Member,
I think back on what I did that
worked. Committees I got involved in that netted me introductions to people who became clients
or referral sources. Utilizing sponsorships that gave me greater visibility and leveraging the networking events I attended that started
the ball rolling on many new and
profitable relationships.
Last week I sat with a new
Chamber Member who is doing a
gangbuster business and looking to
grow. She did everything right
from the start — joined the Chamber before she even opened her
doors, networked vigorously, and
recruited other Chamber Members
as clients who then went out and
proselytized about her business. So
now she is ready to celebrate her
one-year anniversary and looking
for ways to continue her growth.
We talked about her plans,
which led me to suggest that she
reach out to several other Chamber
Members who had growth plans
that I thought would dovetail nicely with hers. A few days and a few
connections later, she had a new
business growth plan with lower
investment costs than her original
one and two new markets (a.k.a.
Chamber Members) anxious to
talk to her.
If you are looking to maximize
your Chamber Membership, I’ve
been there and done that successfully and I want to help. Call me at
609-751-6546 or e-mail me at
[email protected].
Not a Chamber Member? Well
what are you waiting for? Remember, the coffee’s on me.
Liz Johnson
Membership
Development Coordinator
College Nannies and Tutors:
Here To Help, Any Way They Can
C
ollege Nannies & Tutors of
Princeton specializes in customized nanny and tutor services.
We provide nannies and tutors who
will not only meet a family’s childcare and tutoring needs, but will
serve as role models. Nanny services include the placement of fulltime, part-time and on-call nannies. Tutor services include one-
on-one tutoring in a family’s home
— all subjects, study skills, and
test prep. All our nannies and tutors
are screened and background
checked.
They also receive ongoing training and support. Call us, we can
help: www.collegenannies.com
609-945-3557 or 908-866-6055.
$59995 (Refurbished)
Sale:
Canon
Image
Stabilizer
ings, compliments of Phrog Personal Training Studio. Guests are
encouraged to bring plenty of business cards for swapping with other
attendees as well as to enter the
door prize drawing.
At nearly 9,000 square feet,
Phrog is both the most spacious
and private personal training studio in the U.S. The entire facility,
void of any televisions or intrusive
crowds, adds a refreshing disconnection to the distractions and
stresses of the modern world. For
directions, visit www.phrogfitness.com.
Sale:
In Stock
with
T
he Princeton Regional
Chamber of Commerce will sponsor a Business after Business Networking Reception on Thursday,
August 12, from 5 to 7 p.m. at the
conveniently located Phrog Personal Training Studio, 376 Wall
Street. Cost to attend is $25 for
Chamber of Commerce Members
and $45 for non-members. Register in advance at www.princetonchamber.org or by calling 609924-1776.
The event will feature beverages, beer and wine, and food tast-
Reg: $69995 (New)
Reg: $169995
Binoculars
PRCC and Phrog Personal Training Studio
Host Business After Business Networking
• We buy pre-owned equipment
(Phat never says ‘no’!)
• Trade-ins considered
• HUGE selection of used cameras
• Experienced repair staff
• Transfer your old movies & tapes to DVD!
We carry a full line of accessories for both the professional and amateur photographer
Books • Bags & Cases • Binoculars & Scopes • Digital Accessories
Digital Point & Shoot • Film Filters • Dark Room • Lighting & Studio
Memory Cards • Photo Center • Full Line of Cameras
654 Nassau Park Blvd. • Princeton, NJ • 609-799-0081
www.lecamera.net
New Location: 1596 Kings Hwy., N., Cherry Hill, NJ. 856-429-0234
Crystal Ball
a Little
Cloudy?
Katherine K
ish
NJBiz Top , President
50 Wo
in Business men
Too many changes coming too fast?
Too little information to make decisions?
Too few clear paths?
Helping you move ahead with confidence
on strategic and marketing directions.
Market Entry, Inc.
609-799-8898
WBE/SBE certified [email protected]
JULY 28, 2010
ART
FILM
LITERATURE
DANCE
DRAMA
MUSIC
PREVIEW
Summer Fiction — 2010
Another
Christmas Eve
9
Wondrous, Wacky Writers
by Harry Foster
9-1-1 - what’s your
emergency?”
“Hello? Is this 9-1-1?”
“Yes, ma’am - this is 9-1-1. What is
your emergency?”
“Well, it’s not my emergency, but I
think it might be somethin’ serious.”
“Okay — you called to report somethin’ going on — somethin’ you’re
lookin’ at?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Fine; tell me what you’re lookin’ at
that’s so serious.”
“It’s a man.”
“You’re lookin’ at a man; and why is
that a problem, ma’am?”
“He’s standin’ on the fifth floor ledge
of a building; the United Publishing
Building on Lexington and 28th.”
“On Christmas Eve and in this foul
weather? Where are you, ma’am?”
“I’m on the sidewalk across the
street.”
“Are you sure this person is on the
ledge outside the building and not
standin’ inside with the window open?
Maybe he’s just tryin’ to get a little fresh
air.”
“No, I’m pretty sure he’s on the outside. For one thing, I don’t think the windows on the building open. Plus, he just
dropped something off the ledge. I guess
he wanted to see how long it took to get to
the sidewalk.”
“And you say it’s the fifth floor,
ma’am?”
“Yes; I counted up five stories, and
that’s where he’s sittin’.”
“If you counted up five stories, that
would be the sixth floor, ma’am. And I
thought you said he was standin’?”
“He was standin’. Now he’s sittin’. He
has his feet resting on a flagpole; I guess
to steady himself and keep from fallin’.
And he’s holdin’ somethin’; a briefcase I
think; or maybe a large folder of some
kind. I can’t really tell from down here.”
“Okay; let me make sure I’ve got this
right. A man is sittin’ on the sixth-floor
ledge of the United Publishing Building
with his feet on a flagpole, and holdin’
somethin’ — a briefcase or large folder.
Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Is there anything else, some other detail before I call the NYPD?”
“No, I think that’s it.”
“Good; I’m contactin’ the NYPD now,
but please stay on the line, okay? I’d like
to keep in touch with you until the P.I.T.
team arrives and takes control of the situation.”
“The what team, ma’am?”
“The Psychological Intervention
Team.”
“Oh; okay. It’s pretty nasty out here,
but I’ll hang around a few more minutes.
I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
S
ergeant Mack hung up his phone and
walked quickly to the Captain’s office
down the hall.
“Captain Terrence, we just got a call
from 9-1-1. It seems there’s a man sittin’
on the sixth-floor ledge of the United
Publishing Building on Lexington and
28th.”
“Aw shit, Sarge. It’s Christmas Eve.
Why can’t these nut jobs pick a non-holiday night to pull this crap? Daytime
would even be better. I was just gettin’
ready to shut ’er down and head home.
Do you know how many Christmas Eves
I’ve spent with my family over the last 10
years? None! Somethin’ always seems to
come up to ruin it for me.”
“Sorry sir; whaddya wanna do?”
“Who’s on call tonight from P.I.T.?”
“O’Malley, sir.”
“O’Malley? Shit. Wouldn’t you know
it; the last time O’Malley went on a ledge
call the guy ended up jumpin’. The Chief
took so much flak from the press he was
gonna put him back on foot patrol. He finally backed off after I reminded him
O’Malley was the only member of the
team who didn’t suffer from astraphobia.”
“Yeah; I remember that one. It looked
like O’Malley had the guy saved. Tommy
Snyder was inside the building as a backup and said O’Malley had talked to the
guy about Ireland till he was blue in the
face.”
Captain Terrence leaned forward in his
chair and began twirling his letter opener.
“I still can’t believe what happened
Meet the Writers
Hear the Poets
U.S. 1 invites all readers to a reception
for the writers who submitted work
to this issue on Thursday, August 12,
from 5 to 7:30 p.m. in the lower level
of Labyrinth Books at122
Nassau Street in Princeton.
Selections from short stories will be
discussed and poets will be invited
to read their work at this free event.
Questions: Please call 609-452-7000.
11
finally located the window
broken out by the jumper on
the sixth floor of the United
Publishing Building. He
climbed gingerly through the
jagged edges onto the threefoot-wide ledge that encircled
the building. Shuffling one foot at a time
— side to side — he finally made it to the
front of the building. Through the
swirling snow he made out the figure of a
man sitting on the ledge about five feet
ahead of him. His feet were resting on a
large flagpole bolted securely just below
the ledge, and he was clutching a briefcase while staring down at the street below. The wind was occasionally gusting,
so O’Malley got a good grip on some of
the brickwork protruding from the exterior casing of the windows. There was a
blanket draped over his shoulder.
“If you wanted an audience, you sure
picked the wrong night to jump off a
building, mister; it’s Christmas Eve. All
the spectators are home wrappin’ gifts
and puttin’ lights and tinsel on their trees.
I brought a blanket if you want it; you
must be freezin’.”
Shivering and clinging tightly to a
briefcase, the middle-aged man eyed the
policeman warily.
“I’m cold alright, but so what if I
freeze to death; does it really matter? I
wasn’t lookin’ for an audience, and I did-
next. Being the guy was from Ireland,
O’Malley had him talked off the ledge to
share a couple of brews at Reilly’s Pub
around the corner. But he couldn’t just
leave it alone, could he?”
“Damn fool,” said the Sergeant.
“He had to go and start hummin’ Danny Boy before he got the guy inside the
building.”
“Yeah,” said the Captain.
“The guy got all choked up again;
started sobbin’ and talkin’ about how
much he missed his home in Dublin.
Then he launched himself off the ledge
like an Acapulco cliff diver.”
“Only there wasn’t much water on
Fifth Avenue that night,” said the
Sergeant.
“Only a couple of puddles from the
heavy rain that afternoon. What was it he
said just before he leaped, Captain?”
“He said, ‘You’ve got a lovely tenor
voice, Officer O’Malley. You sing like
me cousin Mickey back home. Here’s
hopin’ I’ll be seein’ him up yonder and
we can drink Guinness and sing till the
cows come home.’ ”
“Let’s hope this poor bastard’s not
Irish, Sarge. Give O’Malley a call and get
Continued on page 24
his ass movin’, will you. Remind him to
take a blanket along; it’ll
be pretty cold up there.
And notify the hook and
ladder company around
the corner, too. They
might as well get set up in
Just words in a pile
case they’re needed.”
heaped like dirty laundry
“Yes, sir,” said the
unsorted on the floor
Sergeant.
“And should I alert the
walked on by the careless
Council of Churches,
slept on by the dog.
Captain? They might
Jumbled letters bent and broken
wanna send whoever’s on
punctuation scattered and crushed
call to the scene — just in
case.”
pushed under the bed
“Sure, what the hell; if
to whisper alone
I’ve gotta work, let’s get
an alphabet soup of discards.
everybody involved. I
heard that savin’ a soul on
— Noreen Braman
Christmas Eve earns you
Braman is a writer from Jamesburg, the author of
bonus points. Lord knows
“I’m 50 - Now What?” and the Program and Publiwe could all use a few of
cations Administrator for the New Jersey Lawyers
those.”
Assistance Program.
Officer Ryan O’Malley
No Verse Today
Index to Poets & Writers
Poets: Timothy Allen, 37; Allen Appel, 38; Noreen Braman, 11; Dawn Cohen, 36; Darcy Cotten, 41;
George Dabrowski, 37; Carolyn Foote Edelmann, 37; Janaki Giri, 36; Marie Kane, 37;
Bill Keller, 32; James Levell, 27; Joyce Lott, 37; Rice Lyons, 40; Lauren Mandel, 35;
Scott McVay, 37; Robert Motley, 31; Barbara Nuzzo, 41; Norma Papier, 41; George Point, 38;
Paul Spagnoli, 24; Maxine Susman, 42; Jeff Varanyak, 28; Grace Walter, 45; and Shirley Wright, 44.
Prose: Hugh Adams, 42; Allen Appel, 38; Peter Brav, 28; Rebecca Burr, 27; Marvin Harold Cheiten,
25; Wendell Wood Collins, 32; Darcy Cotten, 40; Arlene Gralla Feldman, 41; Harry Foster, 11;
Jack Foster, 45; Ed Leefeldt, 32; Carol MacAllister, 42; Andrea Mandel, 31; Chelle Martin, 41;
Michael Penncavage, 29; Adele Polomski, 43; Jo Ann Povia, 38; John Saccenti, 30; Robyn Spruill,
36; Nikki Stern, 25; Marylou Kelly Streznewski, 33; Anne Sweeney, 34; John Symons, 26;
Bill Waters, 39; E.E. Whiting, 39; and Elina Zismanova, 35.
12
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
DAY-BY-DAY EVENTS, JULY 28 to AUGUST 11
PREVIEW EDITOR:
JAMIE SAXON
To List An Event
Send listings for upcoming events to U.S. 1 Preview
ASAP (it is never too early).
Deadline for events to appear in any Wednesday edition is 5 p.m. the previous
Thursday.
You can submit press releases to us by E-mail at
[email protected];
by fax at 609-452-0033; or by
mail to U.S. 1, 12 Roszel
Road, Princeton 08540. Ephotos (300 ppi or above)
should be addressed to
[email protected].
We suggest calling before
leaving home. Check our
website, princetoninfo.com,
for up-to-date listings, cancellations, and late listings.
[email protected]
For more event listings visit
www.princetoninfo.com. For timely updates, follow princetoninfo on
Twitter and Facebook.
Wednesday
July 28
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
All That Jazz
John Henry Goldman, Labyrinth
Books, 122 Nassau Street,
Princeton, 609-497-1600. www.labyrinthbooks.com. Jazz. Refreshments. Free. 5 to 8 p.m.
Classical Music
Faculty Recital, Westminster
Choir College, Bristol Chapel,
Princeton, 609-921-2663. www.rider.edu. World premiere of “Ruminations: Six Poems of William
Bronk” presented by baritone Elem Eley, clarinetist Bruce
Williamson, and pianist Martin
Hennessey, also the composer.
Free. 7:30 p.m.
ticed in a heated room. Increases
flexibility, improves circulation,
and reduces stress. $18. 7:30 to
9 p.m.
It's OK to Scream, It's Outdoors: 'Jaws' screens on Thursday, July 29,
Princeton University Art Museum lawn. Indoors in case of rain. Bring seating.
609-258-3788.
Jazz & Blues
Summer Series, Mason Gross
School of the Arts, Nicholas Music Center, 85 George Street,
New Brunswick, 732-932-7511.
www.masongross.rutgers.edu.
Rutgers Jazz faculty. Free. 8 p.m.
Drama
Midweek Music Series, Princeton Public Library, 65 Witherspoon Street, 609-924-8822.
www.princetonlibrary.org. Rave
On! presents music of Buddy Holly and early rock. Dancing encouraged. Free. 7 p.m.
Arms and The Man, Shakespeare Theater of New Jersey,
F.M. Kirby Theater, Drew University, Madison, 973-408-5600.
www.shakespearenj.org. George
Bernard Shaw drama. $31 to $54.
7:30 p.m.
The King and I, Bucks County
Playhouse, 70 South Main
Street, New Hope, 215-862-2041.
www.buckscountyplayhouse.com. Musical. $22. 8 p.m.
The Servant of Two Masters,
Shakespeare Theater of New
Jersey, College of Saint Elizabeth, 2 Convent Road, Morristown, 973-408-5600. www.shakespearenj.org. Carlo
Goldoni’s comedy on the outdoor
stage. $32. 8:15 p.m.
Art
Film
Gallery Exhibit, Princeton University, Firestone Library, 609258-2697. library.princeton.edu.
“Strait Through: From Magellan to
Cook & the Pacific,” on the exploration of the Pacific Ocean that
followed the discovery of the
Strait of Magellan. Historic maps
include the first printed map to
name the Pacific Ocean from
1540, the first printed map devoted to the Pacific Ocean from
1589, and the first printed chart of
the whole Pacific from 1650. On
view Monday to Friday, 9 a.m. to 5
p.m. through January 2.
Justice: What Is the Right Thing
to Do?, South Brunswick Library, 110 Kingston Lane, Monmouth Junction, 732-329-4000.
www.sbpl.info. Film, discussion,
and refreshments to discuss ethical issues with a Harvard professor. Topics: “A Lesson in Lying”
and “A Deal is a Deal.” Free. 1:30
to 3 p.m.
International Film Festival,
South Brunswick Library, 110
Kingston Lane, Monmouth Junction, 732-329-4000. www.sbpl.info. Screening of “The
Maid.” Free. 7 p.m.
Outdoor Concerts
So Percussion, Princeton Public
Library, 65 Witherspoon Street,
609-924-8822. www.princetonlibrary.org. Concert. Free. 7 p.m.
Pop Music
Film 101: American Cinema,
Trenton Film Society, Cafe Ole,
126 South Warren Street, Trenton, 609-396-6966. www.trentonfilmfestival.org. Screening and
discussion. $5. 7 p.m.
Dancing
Health & Wellness
Newcomers Dance Party, American Ballroom, 569 Klockner
Road, Hamilton, 609-931-0149.
www.americanballroomco.com.
$10. 7 to 9 p.m.
Contra Dance, Princeton Country Dancers, Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Princeton,
609-924-6763. www.princetoncountrydancers.org. Instruction
followed by dance. $8. 7:30 to
10:30 p.m.
Discover Peace Within, Chicklet
Bookstore, Princeton Shopping
Center, 301 North Harrison
Street. Yoga in the Himalayan tradition with Acharya Girish Jha.
Register at [email protected]. First class is free. 6 p.m.
Tarot, Planet Apothecary, Forrestal Village, Plainsboro, 732-4066865. www.planetapothecary.com. A reading of Tarot cards by
Jeanette Wolfe. $15. 4 to 5 p.m.
Caregiver Support Group,
Alzheimer’s Association, Buckingham Place, 155 Raymond
Road, Princeton, 800-883-1180.
www.alz.org. Light dinner provided. 5:30 p.m.
Creative Visualization, Mercer
College, West Windsor, 609-5703324. www.mccc.edu. “A Tool for
Positive Change.” Register. $25.
6:30 to 9 p.m.
Holistic Weight Loss Seminar,
Harvest Moon, 206 Sandpiper
Court, Pennington, 609-4624717. Register. $40. 7 p.m.
Multi-Level Yoga Class, Onsen
For All, 4451 Route 27, Princeton, 609-924-4800. www.onsenforall.com. Explore the basic principles of alignment. Register. $15.
7 to 8 p.m.
Hot Yoga, Princeton Center for
Yoga & Health, 50 Vreeland Drive, Suite 506, Skillman, 609-9247294. www.princetonyoga.com.
Twenty-six seated postures prac-
Comedy Clubs
Open Mic Night, The Stress Factory, 90 Church Street, New
Brunswick, 732-545-4242. www.stressfactory.com. $5 to $7. 8
p.m.
Food & Dining
French and American Wines,
One 53, 153 Washington Street,
Rocky Hill, 609-921-0153. Wine
tasting and hors d’oeuvres. Register. $65. 6:30 p.m.
Farmers’ Market
Bordentown City, Farnsworth
and Railroad avenues parking lot,
33 Princeton-Hightstown Rd
Princeton Junction, NJ 08550
SUMMER SPECIALS
A
1 Qt of Chicken Broccoli......... 9.25
1 Qt of Vegetable Lo Mein.......7.25
1 Qt of Pork Fried Rice............7.25
1 Qt of Wonton Soup............... 3.10
2 PCS of Egg Roll....................3.00
1999
$
Regular $29.85 Super Save $9.86
B
C
1 Qt of Beef Broccoli...............9.75
1 Qt of Chicken Lo Mein.........7.25
1 Qt of Vegetable Fried Rice....6.75
1 Qt of Egg Drop Soup............ 2.60
2 PCS of Vegetable.................. 2.80
Spring Roll
1 Qt of Chicken w....................9.50
Hot Garlic Sauce
1 Qt of Mixed Vegetable..........8.25
1 Qt of Plain Fried Rice...........5.75
1 Qt of Hot & Sour Soup.........4.25
2 PCS of Vegetable..................2.80
Spring Roll
$
1999
$
609-298-0604. www.cityofbordentown.com. Produce, foods,
plants, crafts, soaps, cooking
demonstrations, entertainment,
and educational programming. 4
p.m.
1999
609-799-9666 or 609-683-9666
Hours: Mon.-Thurs. 10:30am - 10:30pm;
Fax: 609-799-9661
Fri.-Sat. 10:30am - 11pm ~ Sun. 11am-10pm
Order online at www.sultanwok.com
History
Tour and Tea, Morven Museum,
55 Stockton Street, Princeton,
609-924-8144. www.morven.org.
Tour the restored mansion, galleries, and gardens before or after
tea. Register. $15. 1 p.m.
Lectures
Medieval Reliquaries, Institute
for Advanced Study and
Princeton University, West Hall,
Einstein Drive, Princeton, 609734-8175. www.ias.edu. “Christianity in Miniature: A Look Inside
Medieval Reliquaries” presented
by Julia Smith, professor of Medieval history at the University of
Glasgow and a former member of
the school of historical studies at
the Institute. Free. 4:30 p.m.
Live Music
John Henry Goldman, Labyrinth
Books, 122 Nassau Street,
Princeton, 609-497-1600. www.labyrinthbooks.com. Jazz. Refreshments. Free. 5 to 8 p.m.
Trenton House Society with DJ
Tony Handle, BT Bistro, 3499
Route 1 South, West Windsor,
609-919-9403. www.btbistro.com.
9 p.m.
The Invitational, John & Peter’s,
96 South Main Street, New Hope,
215-862-5981. www.johnandpeters.com. 9:30 p.m.
Open Mic, Alchemist &
Barrister, 28 Witherspoon Street,
Princeton, 609-924-5555. www.theaandb.com. 10 p.m.
Outdoor Action
Summer Nature Programs, Mercer County Park Commission,
Baldpate Mountain, 609-9896540. www.mercercounty.org.
Mountain hike and yoga. Bring
yoga mat and water bottle. Register by E-mail to [email protected]. $12. 9:45 to 11:30
a.m.
JULY 28, 2010
U.S. 1
To Never Never Land: Kate Sparacio, left,
Leah Koreyva, Robert Romero, and Laura
Volkand star in Odd Act’s haunting rendition
of “Peter Pan” at the Arts Council of Princeton, July 29-31. 609-924-8777.
Knitting Night
Borders Books, 601 Nassau
Park, 609-514-0040. www.bordersgroupinc.com. Meet in the
cafe. 7 p.m.
Sports
Trenton Thunder Baseball, Waterfront Park, Route 29, Trenton,
609-394-8326. www.trentonthunder.com. New Britain Rock
Cats. $9 to $12. 12:05 p.m.
Thursday
July 29
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
Songs of the ’40s
WWII Songbook Concert,
Springpoint Foundation,
Grounds For Sculpture, J. Seward Johnson Center for the Arts,
Hamilton, 609-720-7304. In celebration of J. Seward Johnson’s
“Unconditional Surrender” sculpture of the iconic 1940s Times
Square kiss between a sailor and
a nurse, Glenn Seven Allen and
Janine DiVita of Signature Broadway Pops present a concert of
songs written and performed during the historical WWII era. 3 to 4
p.m.
Jazz & Blues
Todd Bashore Quartet, New
Brunswick Jazz Project, Makeda, 338 George Street, New
Brunswick, 732-640-0021. www.nbjp.org. Saxophonist Todd
Bashore and his quartet. No cover. 7:30 p.m.
Outdoor Concerts
Carnegie Center Concert Series,
Patio at 502 Carnegie Center,
609-452-1444. Free. Noon to
1:30 p.m.
Summer Park Series, Monroe
Township Cultural Arts Commission, Thompson Park, Monroe, 732-521-2111. www.monroetownshipculturalarts.com.
Moscow Nights Trio with Russian
folk music and costumes. Weather-permitting. Free. 6 to 8 p.m.
Summer Courtyard Concert Series, Arts Council of Princeton,
Princeton Shopping Center, 609924-8777. www.artscouncilofprinceton.org. Alfred James Band
performs. Free. 6:30 to 8:30 p.m.
Pop Music
WWII Songbook Concert,
Springpoint Foundation,
Grounds For Sculpture, J. Seward Johnson Center for the Arts,
Hamilton, 609-720-7304. In celebration of J. Seward Johnson’s
“Unconditional Surrender” sculpture of the iconic 1940s Times
Square kiss between a sailor and
Mandarin ~ Cantonese ~ Szechuan
a nurse, Glenn Seven
Allen and Janine DiVita of
Signature Broadway Pops
present a concert of
songs written and performed during the historical WWII era. 3 to 4 p.m.
WE NOW DELIVER!
cC
Drama
Peter Pan, Arts Council
of Princeton, 102 Witherspoon Street, 609-9248777. www.artscouncilofprinceton.org. Odd Act
adapted J.M. Barrie’s
classic play into a haunting tale of mystery with
ghosts, mermaid, aborigines, and pirates. Directed
by Rob C. Thompson,
founding artistic director
of the group. $15. 8 p.m.
Misalliance, Princeton Summer
Theater, Hamilton Murray Theater, 609-258-7062. www.princetonsummertheater.org.
George Bernard Shaw classic.
$16. 8 p.m.
F.M. Kirby Theater, Drew University, Madison, 973-408-5600.
8 p.m.
stage. $32. 8:15 p.m.
Film
Newark Black Film Festival, New
Jersey State Museum, Auditorium, 225 West State Street, Trenton, 609-292-5420. www.newjerseystatemuseum.org. Screening of “The Price of Sugar” followed by a discussion. Free. 6
p.m.
Late Thursdays, Princeton University Art Museum, Princeton
campus, 609-258-3788. http://artmuseum.princeton.edu.
Screening of “Jaws,” 1975,
Steven Spielberg. Outdoors.
Bring seating. In McCormick 101
if it rains. Popcorn and soda will
be served. Free. 8 p.m.
McCaffrey’s Shopping Center
295 Princeton-Hightstown Rd.
West Windsor, NJ 08550
609-716-8323 • 609-716-8324
Fax: 609-716-8325
609-273-1378. www.theblackcattango.com. Beginner and intermediate classes followed by guided practice. No partner necessary. $12. 8 p.m.
10%
Off
For Take-Out Orders Only.
May not be combined with other offers.
Comedy Clubs
Brad Williams, The Stress Factory, 90 Church Street, New
and 10:30 p.m.
Food & Dining
Happy Hour, Tre Bar, Tre Piani
Restaurant, Forrestal Village,
Plainsboro, 609-452-1515. www.trepiani.com. $5 pizza. Drink specials. 5 p.m.
Food and Wine Pairing, The
Grape Escape, 12 Stults Road,
Dayton, 609-409-9463. www.thegrapeescape.net. Spargos Grille.
Free. 6 to 8 p.m.
Wine Tasting Event, Witherspoon Grill, 57 Witherspoon
Street, Princeton, 609-924-6011.
www.witherspoongrill.com.
“Around the World in 30 Wines”
includes wines from South Africa,
Italy, Chile, France, Spain, and
California; food tasting stations,
and passed hors d’oeuvres. Register. $75. 6:30 to 9:30 p.m.
$32
3-Course
Prix Fixe Dinner
Monday - Thursday
Farmers’ Market
Princeton Farmers Market,
Hinds Plaza, Witherspoon Street,
Princeton, 609-655-8095. www.princetonfarmersmarket.com.
Produce, cheese, breads, baked
goods, flowers, chef cooking
demonstrations, books for sale,
family activities, and workshops.
Rain or shine. 11 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Dancing
Health & Wellness
Summer Night Swing, Forrestal
Village, College Road West and
Route 1 South, Plainsboro, 609799-7400. www.princetonforrestalvillage.com. Salsa presented by Ray Rodriguez y Swing
Sambroso. Dance lesson with
Henri Velandia from 7 to 8 p.m.;
open dance at 8 p.m. Behind Salt
Creek Grille. Free. 7 to 10 p.m.
Argentine Tango, Black Cat Tango, Viva Ballroom, 1891
Brunswick Pike, Lawrenceville,
Group Studio Workout, Optimal
Exercise, 27 Maplewood Avenue, Cranbury, 609-462-7722.
Supervised cardio, core, strength,
and stretching. Register. $20. 6
a.m.
Blood Drive, American Red
Cross, 2031 Old Trenton Road,
West Windsor, 800-733-2767.
www.redcrossblood.org. Register. 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.
Does not include
tax, gratuity
or drinks.
www.lahieres.com
Witherspoon St. ~ Princeton, NJ
609-921-2798
Continued on following page
ARTISAN PIZZA
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LUNCH SPECIAL
MON-FFRI 12-22PM
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WE DELIVER!
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Expires 7/31/10.
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The Reviews are In
★★★★ Excellent
“The beautifully reinvented Peacock Inn is a masterpiece of fine
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“Very good food with flashes of brilliance is the hallmark of the
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- Susan Sprague Yeske - The Times
13
14
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
Live Music
July 29
Spinning, Can Do Fitness Club, 121 Main
Street, Forrestal Village, Plainsboro, 609514-0500. www.candofitness.com. Register at reception desk. Bring a towel and water. Free. 4:30 to 5:15 p.m.
Prenatal Yoga, Princeton Center for Yoga
& Health, 50 Vreeland Drive, Suite 506,
Skillman, 609-924-7294. www.princetonyoga.com. Class is designed to help mothers-to-be prepare body, mind, and spirit for
birth and motherhood. $25. 6 to 7:15 p.m.
Midsummer Night’s Yoga Celebration,
Body Mind Gifts, Palmer Square, Princeton, 609-497-7545. www.bodymindgifts.com. Outdoor vinyasa under the setting sun
and rising moon. Bring a yoga mat, small
towels, strap, and brick. Free. 6:30 p.m.
Sound Health Event, Center for Relaxation and Healing, 666 Plainsboro Road,
Suite 635, Plainsboro, 609-750-7432.
www.relaxationandhealing.com. Experience the sound of the Earth gong with Marco Dolce. Register. $25. 7 to 8:45 p.m.
Nutritional Seminar, Onsen For All, 4451
Route 27, Princeton, 609-924-4800. www.onsenforall.com. “Freeing Yourself from
Emotional Eating” presented by Rochelle
Blank-Zimmer. Register. $29. 7 p.m.
History
Colonial Camp, Pennsbury Manor, 400
Pennsbury Memorial Road, Morrisville, PA,
215-946-0400. www.pennsburymanor.org.
Hands-on history, arts and crafts, and
games. 17th century chores, writing with a
quill pen, candle making, and more. Reservations required. 10 a.m. to 3 p.m.
Historic Tours, Prallsville Mills, Route 29,
Stockton, 609-397-3586. www.drms-stockton.org. Docent tours of the complex and
the John Prall Jr. house. Free. 1 to 4 p.m.
Lectures
Direct Action, Unitarian Church, 50 Cherry Hill Road, Princeton, 609-926-0386. A
civil rights training class led by Adam
Bounville, political activist for “queer equality.” Free. 6 to 10 p.m.
Elder Law, Hickory Corner Library, 138
Hickory Corner Road, East Windsor, 609448-1330. www.mcl.org. Presentation by
attorney Leonard Furman. Register. Free. 7
p.m.
Edward Boutross, Santino’s Ristorante,
240 Route 130 South, Robbinsville, 609443-5600. Jazz vocal standards. BYOB.
6:30 to 8 p.m.
West Windsor Summer Music Fest,
Grover’s Mill Coffee House, 335 Princeton Hightstown Road, West Windsor, 609716-8771. www.groversmillcoffee.com.
Artists including Shade Plant Bandits, Tap
Water, Chris Jankowski, and Gerald Edward. 7 p.m.
Open Mic Night, It’s a Grind Coffee
House, 7 Schalks Crossing Road, Plainsboro, 609-275-2919. 7 to 8:30 p.m.
Singer Songwriter Showcase, Triumph
Brewing Company, 138 Nassau Street,
Princeton, 609-924-7855. Hosted by Frank
Thewes. 9 p.m.
Dan Sufalko, Triumph Brewing Company,
138 Nassau Street, Princeton, 609-9247855. www.triumphbrew.com. Plainsboro
resident in concert. 9:30 p.m.
Hog Maw, Triumph Brewing Company,
400 Union Square, New Hope, 215-8628300. Free. 9:30 p.m.
Schools
Board of Trustees Meeting, Princeton International Academy Charter School,
Marsee Center, 575 Ewing Street, Princeton, www.piacs.org. Meeting. 6:15 p.m.
Singles
Happy Hour, Yardley Singles, Metro Grill,
172 Scotch Road, Ewing, 215-736-1288.
www.yardleysingles.org. Register. 5 p.m.
Happy Hour, Princeton Area Singles Network, BT Bistro, 3499 Route 1 South, West
Windsor. Cocktails, appetizers, and dinner
available. Register online. 5:30 to 8 p.m.
Divorced and Separated Support Group,
Hopewell Presbyterian Church,
Hopewell, 609-466-0758. www.hopewellpres.org. Register. 7:30 p.m.
Sports
Trenton Thunder Baseball, Waterfront
Park, Route 29, Trenton, 609-394-8326.
www.trentonthunder.com. New Hampshire
Fisher Cats. $9 to $12. Jewish heritage
night with Israeli music from the Tzofim
Friendship Caravan before the game. Fireworks follow game. 7:05 p.m.
Barone’
s
Tuscany
Gri
l
family italian restaurant
TRY OUR
RECESSION
PROOF MENU!
Monday & Tuesday Nights.
$1495 Soup & salad w/your choice
of pasta, chicken or pork entrée.
$1995 Soup & salad w/your choice
of steak or seafood platter.
THURSDAY NIGHTS IT’S A
SHORE THING
at Barone’s!
Try our new
raw bar, blue crabs
in a traditional homemade
red or white sauce.
All You Can Eat
for the Price of One!
LIVE ENTERTAINMENT by ED WILSON Every Thursday Night!
Shops at Pennington • 21 Route 31 • Pennington, NJ 08534
609-818-0012
Om, Outdoors: Susan
Sprecher, pictured, and
Romy Toussaint lead free
Vinyasa yoga classes,
Thursday, July 29; Saturday, August 7; and Thursday, August 26, all at 6:30
p.m. Palmer Square. 609921-2035.
Friday
July 30
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
Live Music
Fredrico’s Bongo Fever, John & Peter’s,
96 South Main Street, New Hope, 215-8625981. www.johnandpeters.com. 9:30 p.m.
Folk Music
35th Birthday Celebration, Folk Project,
Morristown Unitarian Fellowship, 21 Normandy Heights Road, Morristown, 973335-9489. www.folkproject.org. $8 includes
birthday cake. 8 to 11 p.m.
Jazz & Blues
SO Percussion, Princeton University
Concerts, Taplin Auditorium, 609-2585000. www.princeton.edu/utickets. Concert. Free. 8 p.m.
Outdoor Concerts
Summer Concert Series, Morrisville,
Williamson Park, Delmorr Avenue, Morrisville, PA, 215-295-8181. www.morrisvilleboro-gov.com. Actors’ Net Summer Stars
perform “Kids Town” and “Colonial Capers,”
two one-act musicals. Bring a blanket or
chair. Free. 8 p.m.
Art
Artists Network, Lawrenceville Main
Street, 2683 Main Street, Lawrenceville,
609-647-1815. www.Lawrencevillemainstreet.com. Gallery features works by area
artists. 11 a.m. to 7 p.m.
Drama
Cliffhanger, Off-Broadstreet Theater, 5
South Greenwood Avenue, Hopewell, 609466-2766. www.off-broadstreet.com. Suspenseful drama. $27.50 to $29.50. 7 p.m.
Les Miserables, Rising Stars Voice Studio, Scottish Rite Hall, 103 Dunns Mill
Road, Bordentown, 609-291-7440. risingstarsvoicestudio.com. $15. 7:30 p.m.
Pippin, Washington Crossing Open Air
Theater, 355 Washington Crossing-Pennington Road, Titusville, 267-885-9857.
www.dpacatoat.com. Musical. $10; $7 for
children. Blankets, seat cushions, and insect repellent are recommended. Picnics
welcome before show. Food available.
Parking fee of $5. 7:30 p.m.
Peter Pan, Arts Council of Princeton, 102
Witherspoon Street, 609-924-8777. www.artscouncilofprinceton.org. Odd Act adapted J.M. Barrie’s classic play into a haunting
tale of mystery with ghosts, mermaid, aborigines, and pirates. Directed by Rob C.
Thompson, founding artistic director of the
group. $15. 8 p.m.
The King and I, Bucks County Playhouse,
70 South Main Street, New Hope, 215-8622041. www.buckscountyplayhouse.com.
Musical. $22. 8 p.m.
Misalliance, Princeton Summer Theater,
Hamilton Murray Theater, 609-258-7062.
www.princetonsummertheater.org. George
Bernard Shaw classic. $16. 8 p.m.
Arms and The Man, Shakespeare Theater
of New Jersey, F.M. Kirby Theater, Drew
University, Madison, 973-408-5600. www.shakespearenj.org. George Bernard Shaw
drama. $31 to $54. 8 p.m.
The Servant of Two Masters, Shakespeare Theater of New Jersey, College of
Saint Elizabeth, 2 Convent Road, Morristown, 973-408-5600. www.shakespearenj.org. Carlo Goldoni’s comedy on the outdoor
stage. $32. 8:15 p.m.
Dancing
Outdoor Dancing, Central Jersey Dance
Society, Hinds Plaza, Witherspoon Street,
Princeton, 609-945-1883. www.centraljerseydance.org. Tangazo dance. No partner needed. Surface is smooth stone. Free.
7 to 10 p.m.
Dance Party, American Ballroom, 569
Klockner Road, Hamilton, 609-931-0149.
www.americanballroomco.com. $15. 8 to
11 p.m.
Ballroom Dance Social, G & J Studios, 5
Jill Court, Building 14, Hillsborough, 908892-0344. www.gandjstudios.com. Standard, Latin, smooth, and rhythm. Refreshments. BYOB. $12. 8 to 11 p.m.
Comedy Clubs
Davin Rosenblatt, Catch a Rising Star,
Hyatt Regency, 102 Carnegie Center, West
Windsor, 609-987-8018. www.catcharisingstar.com. A former Romper Room star, he
abandoned a career in law to pursue comedy full-time. Register. $17.50. 8 p.m.
Brad Williams, The Stress Factory, 90
Church Street, New Brunswick, 732-5454242. www.stressfactory.com. $13 to $15.
8 and 10:30 p.m.
Faith
Outdoor Shabbat, Har Sinai Temple, 2421
Pennington Road, Pennington, 609-7308100. www.harsinai.org. Weather permitting, Shabbat services will be held outdoors. 7 p.m.
Food & Dining
Wine Tasting, Rat’s Restaurant, 126
Sculptor’s Way, Hamilton, 609-586-0616.
www.groundsforsculpture.org. Guest
speaker and wine tasting in Toad Hall, free.
Wines by the glass available. 4 to 6 p.m.
Dinner and Movie, Catherine Lombardi, 3
Livingston Avenue, New Brunswick, 732828-4444. www.stageleft.com. Screening
of “Big Night” at the Heldrich Hotel followed
by dinner featuring the Italian feast at the
center of the film. Register. $89. 6:30 p.m.
Gourmet Cooking Class, Miele Design
Center, 9 Independence Way, Princeton,
800-843-7215. www.mieleusa.com. Latin
Cucina. Register. $50. 6:30 p.m.
Farmers’ Market
Downtown Hightstown, Memorial Park,
Main Street. www.downtownhightstown.org. Produce, flowers, baked goods, and
area vendors. 4 to 8 p.m.
Health & Wellness
Meditation Circle, Lawrence Library, Darrah Lane and Route 1, Lawrence Township,
609-989-6920. www.mcl.org. Register.
2:30 p.m.
Hatha Yoga: Spanda, Princeton Center
for Yoga & Health, 50 Vreeland Drive,
Suite 506, Skillman, 609-924-7294. www.princetonyoga.com. Learn asanas and
pranayama in combination to build overall
strength, increase flexibility, and aid in
overall relaxation. $17. 6:30 to 7:45 p.m.
Kids Stuff
Friday Night Live: Pi for All, Plainsboro
Public Library, 9 Van Doren Street, 609275-2897. www.lmxac.org/plainsboro. An
evening of Pi activities. Discover pi, play
music with pi, do art with pi, and eat pi. For
ages 9-14. Register. 7 p.m.
Family Theater
Aladdin and His Wonderful Magical
Lamp, Bucks County Playhouse, 70
South Main Street, New Hope, 215-8622041. www.buckscountyplayhouse.com.
Musical. $8. 11 a.m. and 1 p.m.
Cinderella, Kelsey Theater, Mercer County Community College, 1200 Old Trenton
Road, 609-570-3333. www.kelseytheatre.net. Full-length version of the classic story
presented by Stars in the Park. $16. Reception with the cast and crew follows the
opening night performance. 7 p.m.
JULY 28, 2010
Jazzing It Up: Jazz
trumpeter John Henry
Goldman performs at
Labyrinth Books, July
28, and Tre Piani
restaurant, July 31.
Fresh Made To Order Sushi
Freshness is what matters in Sushi.
Comparable in quality & freshness to the
finest restaurants in the area.
Teriyaki Boy can’ t be beat for its combination of
well-prepared food and inexpensive prices.
—Princeton Living
Live Music
Wine and Music, Hopewell Valley Vineyards, 46 Yard Road,
Pennington, 609-737-4465.
www.hopewellvalleyvineyards.com. Hopewell Valley Vineyards’
Jazz Ensemble. Wine available. 5
to 8 p.m.
Flashback Fridays, KatManDu,
50 Riverview Plaza, Waterfront
Park, Route 29, Trenton, 609393-7300. www.katmandutrenton.com. Buffet from 5 to 8 p.m.,
$5. DJs Bryan Basara and Davey
Gold with music from 1970s, 80s,
and 90s. 5 p.m.
Dick Gratton, Chambers Walk
Cafe, 2667 Main Street, Lawrenceville, 609-896-5995. Solo
jazz guitar. 6 to 9 p.m.
Smash Palace and Dan Reed,
The Record Collector Store,
358 Farnsworth Avenue, Bordentown, 609-324-0880. $15. 7:30
p.m.
Bob Egan, Bowman’s Tavern,
1600 River Road, New Hope, PA,
215-862-2972. www.bowmanstavernrestaurant.com. 8 p.m.
Bob Mecklenburger, Grover’s
Mill Coffee House, 335 Princeton Hightstown Road, West Windsor, 609-716-8771. Easy listening. 8 p.m.
Gerald Edwards, It’s a Grind
Coffee House, 7 Schalks Crossing Road, Plainsboro, 609-2752919. www.itsagrind.com. Originals. 8 to 10 p.m.
Fredrico’s Bongo Fever, John &
Peter’s, 96 South Main Street,
New Hope, 215-862-5981. www.johnandpeters.com. 9:30 p.m.
The Hackensaw Boys, Triumph
Brewing Company, 400 Union
Square, New Hope, 215-8628300. www.triumphbrew.com. $5
cover. 10 p.m.
Fireworks
New Hope Chamber, New Hope,
215-862-9990. www.newhopechamber.com. Happy hour, food
specials, shopping until 10 p.m.,
and fireworks at 9:30 p.m., in
New Hope and Lambertville. 5
p.m.
Socials
Luncheon, Rotary Club of the
Princeton Corridor, Hyatt Regency, Carnegie Center, 609799-0525. www.princetoncorridorrotary.org. Register.
Guests, $20. 12:15 p.m.
Scrabble
Classics Used and Rare Books,
117 South Warren Street, Trenton, 609-394-8400. All skill levels
welcome. 6:30 p.m.
Sports
609-394-8326. www.trentonthunder.com. New Hampshire
Fisher Cats. $9 to $12. 7:05 p.m.
Saturday
July 31
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
Connect With Nature
Mercer County 4-H Fair, Howell
Living History Farm, Valley
Road, off Route 29, Titusville,
609-737-3299. www.howellfarm.org. Goat show, English and
country dance, Jugtown Mountain
String Band, horse-drawn
hayrides, horse grooming
demonstration, archery lessons,
dairy goat milking contest, frozen
shirt contest, displays, demonstrations, and activities. Also Sunday, August 1. 10 a.m. to 8 p.m.
U.S. 1
$
20
Sushi
selections from 2.29
Choose from Teriyaki, Tempura, Udon or Combos & Platters.
Over
Classical Music
Faust, Opera New Jersey, McCarter Theater, 609-258-2787.
www.opera-nj.org. Gounod’s story directed by Trevore Ross. In
French with supertitles. New Jersey Symphony Chamber Orchestra conducted by Mark Flint. $35
to $110. 8 p.m.
Take-out & Catering
Service Available.
All food is cooked
to order in 100% vegetable oil.
MARKETFAIR
609-897-7979 Fax: 609-897-1204
Mon-Thurs. 10am-9pm, Fri-Sat 10am-10pm, Sun 11am-7:30pm
Outdoor Concerts
Trenton Musicians Reunion and
Health Extravaganza, Developmental Roundtable for the Upward Mobility of Musicians,
Cadwalader Park, Trenton and
Trenton Elks Lodge, 42 Decou
Avenue, Ewing, 443-801-8332.
Performers from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m.
Cabaret after party, 8 to midnight,
$20 and cash bar. 11 a.m.
Emily Rose, Liberty Village Outlets, 1 Church Street, Flemington,
908-782-8550. In conjunction
with back to school and fall preview sale. 1 p.m.
Summer Music Series, Palmer
Square, On the Green, 609-9212333. www.palmersquare.com.
Big Funk. Free. 2 to 4 p.m.
6th Street Quaternion, Blue
Point Grill, 258 Nassau Street,
Princeton, 609-921-1211. www.bluepointgrill.com. 7 p.m.
Summer Concert Series, Morrisville, Williamson Park, Delmorr Avenue, Morrisville, PA,
215-295-8181. Actors’ Net Summer Stars perform “Twisted Television” featuring four episodes of
popular shows. Bring a blanket or
chair. Free. 8 p.m.
World Music
Kirtan Camp, Princeton Center
for Yoga & Health, 50 Vreeland
Drive, Suite 506, Skillman, 609924-7294. Kirtan musicians Suzin
Green and Daniel Johnson present harmonium, drumming, and
finger cymbal patterns with Kirtan, Sanskrit pronunciation, and
the power of sound healing. Register. $65 for full program.
Evening only, $20. 2 p.m.
WHY SIT IN ROUTE 1 RUSH HOUR TRAFFIC?
EARLY BIRD SPECIAL (NO COUPONS/DISCOUNTS)
3 COURSE DINNER 12-6PM $15 PER PERSON
SATURDAY & SUNDAY BRUNCH
BLOODY MARY AND MIMOSA SPECIALS
LIVE ENTERTAINMENT
WEDNESDAY 7/28
SATURDAY 7/31
HOUSE PARTY, DJ TONY HANDLE - 9PM
LENNY FATTORI (REGGAE/ROCK) - 9PM
15
16
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
July 31
Art
Artists Network, Lawrenceville
Main Street, 2683 Main Street,
Lawrenceville, 609-647-1815.
www.Lawrencevillemainstreet.com. Gallery features works by
area artists. 11 a.m. to 7 p.m.
Highlights Tour, Princeton University Art Museum, Princeton
campus, 609-258-3788. http://artmuseum.princeton.edu. Free.
2 p.m.
Drama
Peter Pan, Arts Council of
Princeton, 102 Witherspoon
Street, 609-924-8777. www.artscouncilofprinceton.org. Odd Act
adapted J.M. Barrie’s classic play
into a haunting tale of mystery
with ghosts, mermaid, aborigines,
and pirates. Directed by Rob C.
Thompson, founding artistic director of the group. $15. 2 and 8
p.m.
$16. 2 and 8 p.m.
F.M. Kirby Theater, Drew Univer-
sity, Madison, 973-408-5600.
2 and 8 p.m.
www.buckscountyplayhouse.com. Musical. $22. 4 and 8 p.m.
Cliffhanger, Off-Broadstreet
Theater, 5 South Greenwood Avenue, Hopewell, 609-466-2766.
www.off-broadstreet.com. Suspenseful drama. $27.50 to
$29.50. 7 p.m.
Les Miserables, Rising Stars
Voice Studio, Scottish Rite Hall,
103 Dunns Mill Road, Bordentown, 609-291-7440. risingstarsvoicestudio.com. $15. 7:30 p.m.
Pippin, Washington Crossing
Open Air Theater, 355 Washington Crossing-Pennington Road,
Titusville, 267-885-9857. www.dpacatoat.com. Musical. $10; $7
for children. Blankets, seat cushions, and insect repellent are recommended. Picnics welcome before show. Food available. Parking fee of $5. 7:30 p.m.
stage. $32. 8:15 p.m.
Dancing
Argentine Tango, Central Jersey
Dance Society, Suzanne Patterson Center, 45 Stockton Street,
Princeton, 609-945-1883. www.centraljerseydance.org. All levels.
Intermediate lesson followed by
social dance. No partner needed.
Refreshments. $12. 8 p.m.
Ballroom Dance Social, G & J
Studios, 5 Jill Court, Building 14,
Hillsborough, 908-892-0344.
www.gandjstudios.com. Standard, Latin, smooth, and rhythm.
Refreshments. BYOB. $12. 8 to
11 p.m.
Literati
Author Event, Borders Books,
601 Nassau Park, 609-514-0040.
www.bordersgroupinc.com. Viola
Roberts, author of “Memoirs of a
Girls from Suffolk.” Booksigning.
1 p.m.
Author Event, Classics Used
and Rare Books, 117 South Warren Street, Trenton, 609-3948400. Carmen Ruben discusses
her kids’ book, “Ashti Meets Birdman Al.” 2 p.m.
Good Causes
Wine Art Music Poetry Project,
Cook Appeal, Amalthea Cellars,
209 Vineyard Road, Atco, 856767-8890. www.cookappeal.com.
Benefit for Cardiomyopathy
Foundation and congenital heart
disease research. Wine, food,
and art. Performers include Jack
Gifford, Vito Natale, Mike Riley,
Flora Newberry, Danielle Steward, Howie Troutman, Blue Jersey Band, and Larry Tritel. Balloon art, magic, and face painting.
Bring lawn chair and blankets.
Donations invited. Raindate is
Sunday, August 1. 11 a.m. to 5
p.m.
Bowling Party, UIH Family Partners, Curtis Lanes, 45 Scotch
Road, Ewing, 609-695-1492.
www.uih.org. Three games,
shoes, and prizes. Register. $25.
Food available. 6 to 9 p.m.
Comedy Clubs
NOW HIRING!
Email resu
info@cranberrys mes to
gourmet.com
Davin Rosenblatt, Catch a Rising Star, Hyatt Regency, 102
Carnegie Center, West Windsor,
609-987-8018. www.catcharisingstar.com. A former Romper Room
star, he abandoned a career in
law to pursue comedy full-time.
Register. $20. 7:30 and 9:30
p.m.
Brad Williams, The Stress Factory, 90 Church Street, New
and 10:30 p.m.
Food & Dining
Food Tastings, Nassau Seafood
& Produce, 256 Nassau Street,
Princeton, 609-921-0620. www.nassaustreetseafood.com. Free.
Noon to 2 p.m.
Farmers’ Market
Jamesburg Revitalization Coalition, Jamesburg Presbyterian
Church, Gatzmer Avenue and
Church Street, 732-512-7417.
www.ilovejamesburg.com. Produce, non-profit organizations,
and specialty vendors. 9 a.m. to 2
p.m.
West Windsor Community
Farmers’ Market, Vaughn Drive
Parking Lot, Princeton Junction
Train Station, 609-577-5113.
www.westwindsorfarmersmarket.org. Produce, bakery
items, pizza, coffee, and other
foods and flowers. West Windsor
Arts Council, West Windsor Bike
and Pedestrian Alliance, and Yes,
We Can, a volunteer group that
collects food for the Crisis Ministry of Princeton and Trenton. 9
a.m. to 1 p.m.
Crisis Ministry of Princeton and
Trenton, North Clinton and North
Olden avenues, Trenton, 609396-9355. www.thecrisisministry.org. Produce, health screenings,
cooking demonstrations, and
health and wellness programs.
Vendors will accept food stamps.
11 a.m. to 2 p.m.
JULY 28, 2010
U.S. 1
17
Health & Wellness
International Banquet: Monster
Bash, Plainsboro Public Library, 9 Van Doren Street, 609275-2897. www.lmxac.org/plainsboro. Bring a dish to share and
enjoy. Celebrate the end of Monster Math Summer. Door prizes
and homemade pinata. 6:30 p.m.
For Families
609-737-3299. www.howellfarm.org. Goat show, English and
country dance, Jugtown Mountain
String Band, horse-drawn
hayrides, horse grooming demonstration, archery lessons, dairy
goat milking contest, frozen shirt
contest, displays, demonstrations, and activities. Also Sunday,
August 1. 10 a.m. to 8 p.m.
Family Theater
Cinderella, Kelsey Theater, Mercer County Community
College, 1200 Old Trenton Road,
609-570-3333. www.kelseytheatre.net. Full-length version of
the classic story presented by
Stars in the Park. $16. 7 p.m.
Live Music
Music Night, Hopewell Valley
Vineyards, 46 Yard Road, Pennington, 609-737-4465. www.hopewellvalleyvineyards.com.
Deb & Mike with acoustic classic
rock. Wine available. $10/ 5 to 8
p.m.
Craig Lieboff Duo, Halo Pub, 5
Hulfish Street, Princeton, 609921-1710. Folk rock. 7 to 10 p.m.
David Jacobsen, Halo Pub, 4617
Nottingham Way, Trenton, 609586-1811. 7 p.m.
The Rip Chords, The Record
Collector Store, 358 Farnsworth
Avenue, Bordentown, 609-3240880. www.the-record-collector.com. “Hey Little Cobra” and
“Three Window Coupe” plus comedian Chris Rich. $18. 7:30
p.m.
John Henry Goldman, Tre Piani,
120 Rockingham Row, Forrestal
Village, Plainsboro, 609-4521515. www.straightjazz.com.
Jazz with Tara Buzash on piano,
Paul Hofreiter on bass, Heather
Teffenhart on violin, and John
Henry Goldman on trumpet. 7:30
to 11 p.m.
Dan Sufalko, Grover’s Mill Coffee House, 335 Princeton Hightstown Road, West Windsor, 609716-8771. Plainsboro resident
performs. 8 p.m.
Stu Laermer, It’s a Grind Coffee
House, 7 Schalks Crossing
Road, Plainsboro, 609-275-2919.
www.itsagrind.com. Acoustic
rock. 8 to 10 p.m.
Lenny Fattori, BT Bistro, 3499
609-919-9403. www.btbistro.com. 9 p.m.
The Razorbacks, John &
Peter’s, 96 South Main Street,
New Hope, 215-862-5981. www.johnandpeters.com. 9:30 p.m.
La Violencia, Triumph Brewing
Company, 400 Union Square,
New Hope, 215-862-8300. www.triumphbrew.com. $5 cover. 10
p.m.
Outdoor Action
X-Stream Family Day, Stony
Brook Millstone Watershed, 31
Titus Mill Road, Pennington, 609737-7592. www.thewatershed.org. For adults and families with
children six and older. Join Jeff
Hoagland for a hike and fishing
activities. Bring lunch, a water
bottle, and old sneakers for wading. All children must be accompanied by an adult. Register. $20.
9:30 a.m. to 2 p.m.
Family Nature Programs, Plainsboro Preserve, 80 Scotts Corner
“Do Butterflies Bite?” Register.
$5. 3:30 to 5 p.m.
Politics
Benefit Evening, Cook and Sutter for Township Committee,
Caddy Shack, 70 Hunters Glen
Drive, Plainsboro, 609-799-9626.
www.cookandsutter2010.com.
The Billy Hill Band presents music from the 1960s, ’70s, ’80s,
’90s, rhythm and blues, and Motown. Hors-d’oeuvres, door
prizes, dancing. $20. 5:30 p.m.
Book Sale
Plainsboro Public Library, 9 Van
Doren Street, 609-275-2897.
www.lmxac.org/plainsboro. Hardbacks, $1; paperbacks, 50 cents;
miscellaneous media and art at
bargain prices. 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.
Singles
Upscale Dance Party, Steppin’
Out Singles, Woodbridge Hilton
Grand Ballroom, Iselin, NJ, 732656-1801. www.steppinoutsingles.com. Music and dancing
for ages 40 plus. $15. 8:30 p.m.
Socials
International Banquet, Plainsboro Public Library, 9 Van
www.lmxac.org/plainsboro. Bring
a dish. 6:30 p.m.
Sports
609-394-8326. New Hampshire
Sunday
August 1
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
Take Flight
Airport Rides, Princeton Airport,
Route 206, 609-921-3100. www.princetonairport.com. Get a bird’s
eye view of the Princeton area.
Weigh in pay 20 cents a pound,
minimum of $10 and maximum of
$25. Pilots are flight instructors or
commercial pilots. 3 to 6 p.m.
CALL FOR
A FREE
CONSULTATION
TODAY!
Classical Music
Summer Carillon Concert
Series, Princeton University, 88
College Road West, Princeton,
609-258-3654. www.princeton.edu. Malgosia Fiebig on the fifth
largest carillon in the country.
Free. 1 p.m.
Don Giovanni, Opera New Jersey, McCarter Theater, 609-2582787. www.opera-nj.org. 2 p.m.
Don Pasquale, Opera New Jersey, Berlind at McCarter Theater,
609-258-2787. www.opera-nj.org.
7 p.m.
Outdoor Concerts
Summer Concert Series, Morrisville, Williamson Park, Delmorr Avenue, Morrisville, PA,
215-295-8181. www.morrisvilleboro-gov.com. Thursday Night
Jazz Band concert. Bring a blanket or chair. Free. 6 p.m.
Pop Music
The Robert Cray Band and the
Fabulous Thunderbirds, Patriots Theater at the War Memorial, Memorial Drive, Trenton, 609955-5566. www.thewarmemorial.com. Blues from the
five-time Grammy Award winner.
$35 to $55. 7 p.m.
RALPH LAUREN • ELLEN TRACY • ESCADA
NEW
SUMMER HOURS
MON. - FRI. 10AM - 6PM
SAT. 10:30AM - 5PM
ADORABLE FROCKS
DELICIOUS HANDBAGS
FROM REGULAR TO COUTURE
TO LAST THROUGHOUT THE SUMMER!
1378 Route 206, Village Shopper • Skillman, NJ 08558 • 609-924-2288
M-F 10-6; Sat. 10:30-5 • Consignments by appointment
DONNA KARAN • LOUIS FERAUD • MONDI
LAGERFELD • CHLOE • JAEGER
Kids Stuff
Get Funky: Big Funk gives a free concert, Saturday, July 31, 2 to 4 p.m., on the green at Palmer
Square. 609-921-2333.
ARMANI • CHANEL • HERMES
Relaxation Workshop, Shreyas
Yoga, Chicklet Books, Princeton
Shopping Center, 301 North Harrison Street, 732-642-8895.
www.shreyasyoga.com. “Face
Lift Without Surgery” presented
by Acharya Girish Jha who will
share practices to reduce wrinkles and sagging jaws as well as
ayurvedic herbal secrets and an
instant relaxation technique.
Bring a blanket. Register at [email protected]. $35. 3 to
5 p.m.
Yin Yoga, Princeton Center for
Yoga & Health, 50 Vreeland Drive, Suite 506, Skillman, 609-9247294. www.princetonyoga.com.
Suitable for students of all levels
of experience. Poses are seated,
supine, or prone, and are held
with muscles relaxed for several
minutes. $17. 8:30 to 10 a.m.
Summer Workout Series, Can
Do Fitness Club, 121 Main
Street, Forrestal Village, Plainsboro, 609-514-0500. www.candofitness.com. Body attack. Register at reception desk. Bring a towel and water. Inside if it rains.
Free. 9 a.m.
Workout in the Park, RWJHamilton, Mercer County Park,
Zumba and Boogie Box. Bring
mat or towel. $5. 11 a.m.
Cook for Your Health, In Balance
Center for Living, 230 South
Branch Road, Hillsborough, 908369-4949. www.inbalancecenter.com. Vegan cooking demonstration with hands-on experience
presented by Jessi Ortiz, a personal chef and health coach. Design and roll vegan sushi, make
salad, stuffed mushrooms, and
iced sun tea. Discuss concept of
whole food. Register. $25. 4:30
p.m.
Grand Opening Celebration,
One Yoga and Wellness Center,
Suburban Square Shopping
Plaza, Scotch Road, Ewing, 609918-0963. www.oneyogacenter.net. Information on classes and
schedules, meet the teachers,
and register at new location. 7
p.m.
Art
Art Exhibit, New Jersey Blood
Services, 167 New Street, New
Brunswick, 800-933-2566. www.nybloodcenter.org. Reception for
“Flashes of Hope,” the works of
New Jersey artists who have
been affected by cancer. Guests
are encouraged to donate blood.
On view to August 19. 11 a.m. to
1 p.m.
Art Exhibit, Gourgaud Gallery,
23 North Main Street, Cranbury,
609-395-0900. www.gourgaudhist.htm. Opening reception for “Winter Series Workshops,” an exhibit featuring works
of students who studied with
Tamara Woronczuk, Joe
Gyurcsak, Barbara Cox, and
Russ Johnson. On view to August
29. 1 to 3 p.m.
Art Exhibit, Artists’ Gallery, 18
Bridge Street, Lambertville, 609397-4588. www.lambertvillearts.com. Closing reception for “Interactions” featuring the works of Alla Podolsky and Carol Sanzalone,
2 to 5 p.m.
A new menu of
services begins at
Onsen for All
Facials, Body Treatments,
Dare to Bare Waxing,
Elements Day Packages
Onsen for All, Onsen for You
Organic Facials
Spa for a healthy lifestyle
Receive $10 off when you book
Onsen for All's signature Dew Facial.
Designed for a deep cleanse
and hydration, Dew Facial uses
sweet milk and lavender. Includes
a hand, arm and scalp massage.
Offer expires: July 31, 2010
Elements Day Packages
Introducing WIND
Onsen for All's Spa Garden
Features four cedar
wood soaking hot tubs,
a wood-fired sauna
and a cold shower
for hot summer days!
Enjoy a 30 minute Private Soak
and a sixty minute Integrative
massage complemented with
Onsen for All's organic juice or tea.
1.5 hours $105.00 ($125.00 value)
Fire and Water previewing in coming weeks
reserve I 609 924 4800
[email protected]
www.onsenforall.com
4451 Route 27 at Raymond Road • Princeton, NJ 08540
18
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
Life After Lewis™
“The Lewis School taught me not to just take the
standard path—to search for alternative paths that
would get me to the same endpoint. One of the
greatest things I learned from Lewis is that if I
worked hard enough, I could achieve anything.
I am so grateful to The Lewis School and credit
everything I’ve been able to accomplish to my
years there.”
—Katie Lewis-LaMonica
The Lewis School, Class of 1996
Princeton University, Class of 2008
}
}
2008 Graduate of the
Woodrow Wilson School of
Public & International
Affairs
Recipient of the Allen Macy
Dulles '51 Award & Arthur
Lane '34 Award
}
}
Member of the U.S. Women’s
National Lacrosse Team 20052008; 2005 Ivy League Rookie of
the Year
Currently serves as a Research
Analyst at the CityBridge
Foundation in Washington, D.C.
609
609--924
924--8120
lewisschool.org
Need a Lift?
Try an Introductory Flying Lesson!
Become a Pilot in 2010!
Princeton Airport only $
41 Airpark Road
Princeton, NJ 08540
69+
609-921-3100
www.princetonairport.com
August 1
Drama
$29.50. 1:30 p.m.
$16. 2 p.m.
Les Miserables, Rising Stars
Voice Studio, Scottish Rite Hall,
103 Dunns Mill Road, Bordentown, 609-291-7440. risingstarsvoicestudio.com. $15. 7:30 p.m.
Pippin, Washington Crossing
Open Air Theater, 355 Washington Crossing-Pennington Road,
Titusville, 267-885-9857. www.dpacatoat.com. Musical. $10; $7
for children. Blankets, seat cushions, and insect repellent are recommended. Picnics welcome before show. Food available. Parking fee of $5. 7:30 p.m.
stage. $32. 8:15 p.m.
Film
Kingston Lane, Monmouth Junction, 732-329-4000. www.sbpl.info. Screening of “Shall We
Kiss.” Free. 2 p.m.
The Boat That Rocked: 'Pirate Radio,' starring
Philip Seymour Hoffman, screens on Monday,
August 2, Princeton Public Library. 609-924-8822.
Fairs
Health & Wellness
609-737-3299. www.howellfarm.org. 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.
Thai Massage, In Balance Center for Living, 230 South Branch
Road, Hillsborough, 908-3694949. www.inbalancecenter.com.
Register. $125. 11 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Grand Opening Celebration,
One Yoga and Wellness Center,
Suburban Square Shopping
Plaza, Scotch Road, Ewing, 609918-0963. www.oneyogacenter.net. Information on classes and
schedules, meet the teachers,
and register at new location. 11
a.m. to 3 p.m.
Food & Dining
Dine with the Winemaker, Fiddleheads Restaurant, 27 East
Railroad Avenue, Jamesburg,
732-521-0878. www.fiddleheadsjamesburg.com. Regular dinner
menu with specials plus wines
poured by Tom and Nancy Nye of
Grape Escape, a Dayton facility
where customers make their own
custom wine. Register. 4 to 8
p.m.
Farmers’ Market
Lawrenceville Main Street, 11
Gordon Avenue, Lawrenceville,
609-219-9300. www.LawrencevilleMainStreet.com. Vegetables,
fruits, flowers, herbs, meat, poultry, baked goods. Music, art, and
good causes. 9 a.m. to 2 p.m.
History
Historic Trades, Pennsbury
Manor, 400 Pennsbury Memorial
Road, Morrisville, PA, 215-9460400. www.pennsburymanor.org.
Blacksmith presentation. $7; children, $4. 1 to 4 p.m.
Walking Tour, Historical Society
of Princeton, Bainbridge House,
158 Nassau Street, Princeton,
609-921-6748. www.princetonhistory.org. Two-hour walking tour
$7; $4 for ages 6 to 12. 2 to 4
p.m.
JULY 28, 2010
U.S. 1
19
Airport Rides, Princeton Airport,
Route 206, 609-921-3100. www.princetonairport.com. Get a bird’s
eye view of the Princeton area.
Weigh in pay 20 cents a pound,
minimum of $10 and maximum of
$25. Pilots are flight instructors or
commercial pilots. 3 to 6 p.m.
Family Theater
Aladdin and his Wonderful Magical Lamp, Bucks County Playhouse, 70 South Main Street,
New Hope, 215-862-2041. www.buckscountyplayhouse.com. Musical. $8. 11 a.m. and 1 p.m.
Live Music
George Sinkler, Washington
Crossing Inn, Route 32 and 532,
Washington Crossing, PA, 215493-3634. Piano bar. 6:30 to 9:30
p.m.
We've Got the Blues: The Fabulous Thunderbirds, pictured, appear with Grammy Award winner and blues musician Robert Cray, Sunday, August 1, Patriots Theater, Trenton. 609-955-5566.
Book Sale
Health & Wellness
Jazz & Blues
www.lmxac.org/plainsboro. $3 for
a bag. 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.
Monthly Meeting, Compassionate Friends, Capital Health System, 1445 Whitehorse-Mercerville Road, Hamilton, 609-5168047. www.tcfmercer.org. Support to assist families toward the
positive resolution of grief following the death of a child of any
age. 7:30 p.m.
Piano Pedagogy Seminar, New
School for Music Study, Westminster Choir College, Princeton,
609-921-2900. www.nsmspiano.org. Jazz concert presented by
Tony Caramia, Eastman School
of Music. Free. 7:30 p.m.
Chess
www.lmxac.org/plainsboro. For
advanced adult players. 1 to 5
p.m.
Sports
609-394-8326. www.trentonthunder.com. New Hampshire
Monday
August 2
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
Musical Rebels
Summer Film Series, Princeton
Public Library, 65 Witherspoon
Street, 609-924-8822. www.princetonlibrary.org. Screening of
“Pirate Radio.” Free. 7 p.m.
Pop Music
Rehearsal, Jersey Harmony
Chorus, 20 Schalks Crossing
www.harmonize.com/jerseyharmony. Workshop series includes vocal lessons in four-part
harmony. New members are welcome. Free. 7:15 to 9:30 p.m.
Blawenburg Band, Hopewell
Train Station, Railroad Place,
Hopewell, 609-924-2790. Concert featuring band music. Free.
7:30 p.m.
Art
Senior Art Show, Mercer County
Office on Aging, Meadow Lakes,
300 Meadow Lakes, East Windsor, 609-989-6661. www.mercercounty.org. First day for exhibit of
original works by Mercer County
residents, age 60 or older. Some
of the works will be included in the
New Jersey Senior Citizen art
show, also at Meadow Lakes, in
October. 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.
Film
Street, 609-924-8822. www.princetonlibrary.org. Screening of
“Pirate Radio.” Free. 7 p.m.
Literati
Memoir Writing Workshop,
Lawrence Library, Darrah Lane
and Route 1, Lawrence Township, 609-989-6922. www.mcl.org. Abbie Katz from Greater
Trenton Behavioral Healthcare
presents a course for seniors.
Register. 2:30 to 4:30 p.m.
History
Historic Tours, Prallsville Mills,
Route 29, Stockton, 609-3973586. www.drms-stockton.org.
Docent tours of the complex and
the John Prall Jr. house. Free. 1
to 4 p.m.
Lectures
Open House, New Jersey Association of Women Business
Owners, 186 Princeton-Hightstown Road, Building 4B, West
Windsor, 732-598-5363. www.njawbomercer.org. For new,
prospective, and current members. Register. Free. 6 to 8 p.m.
Socrates Cafe, West Windsor Library, 333 North Post Road, 609799-0462. Ask questions, listen,
discuss, raise challenges. Register. 7 p.m.
Singles
After Work Social, Professional
and Business Singles Network,
Lambertville Station Wine
Lounge, 11 Bridge Street, Lambertville, 610-348-5544. www.PBSNinfo.com. Hors d’oeuvres in
the Canal Side Bar. Cash Bar.
Ages 35 plus. Register. $15. 5:30
to 9 p.m.
Coffee and Conversation,
Grover’s Mill Coffee House, 335
Princeton Hightstown Road, West
Windsor, 609-716-8771. www.groversmillcoffee.com. Coffee,
tea, soup, sandwich, or dessert.
Register at www.meetup.com/Princeton-Area-Singles-Network.
6:30 to 8 p.m.
Tuesday
August 3
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
A Bottle of Red,
A Bottle of White ...
Plainsboro, 609-452-1515. www.trepiani.com. $5 burgers. Drink
specials. 5 p.m.
Classical Music
Carillon Concert, Princeton University, 88 College Road West,
Princeton, 609-258-3654. www.princeton.edu. Concert on the
fifth largest carillon in the country.
Free. 6:30 p.m.
LIFETIME DIAMOND COMMITMENT
YOUR DIAMOND COMES WITH A
LIFETIME MONEY
BACK GUARANTEE
Outdoor Concerts
Greenway Amphitheater at 202
Carnegie Center, 609-452-1444.
Free. Noon to 1:30 p.m.
Concerts on the Landing, Patriots Theater at the War Memorial, 1 Memorial Drive, Trenton,
609-984-8400. www.thewarmemorial.com. Pork Roll Trio performs. Food available. Free.
Noon to 2 p.m.
Film
Jersey Rehabilitation Medical Clinic. P.C.
12 Roszel Road, Suite A101 • Princeton, NJ 08540
[email protected]
Mei Li - L. AC. MS. NJ, NY Licensed Acupuncturist
NCCAOM Acupuncture & Herb Certificate
New York College of TCM (MS) • Beijing Medical University (M.D. in China)
• Acupuncture & Herbal Medicine
• Allergies
• Gastrointestinal • Massage Therapy
• Asthma
Disorders
• Pain Management
• Diabetes
• Insomnia
• Skin Problems
• Depression • Men & Women • Stop Smoking
• Headache
Problems
• Weight Loss
Movie Series for Seniors,
Princeton Senior Resource
Center, Spruce Circle, Princeton,
609-924-7108. Screening of “It’s
Complicated.” Refreshments.
Limited parking. Register. Free. 1
p.m.
Mei Li
Most Insurance Plans Accepted
609-419-0088
20
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
Headlining: Dan Sufalko performs at BT
Bistro, Grovers Mill Coffee House, Wildflowers, and Triumph Brewery in July and August. His CD, ‘Goodbye Blue Sky,’ a compilation of original songs, has been released.
www.dansufalko.com.
FAMILY FUN SATURDAYS!
July 31st
12:30 - 4pm Tours:
What Did Trent’s Enslaved
Workers Do?
August 7th
12:30 - 4pm
Field Trip Fridays in July & August
12:30 - 2pm or 2:30 - 4pm
Hands-On Activities Vary for Children Ages 6-11
Reservations @ $5.00
August 3
Dancing
Tuesday Night Folk Dance
Group, Princeton, 609-655-0758.
www.princetonfolkdance.org. Instruction and dancing. No partner
needed. Call for location. $3. 7 to
9 p.m.
Garden Themed Tours
National Night Out
August 14th
Princeton Police, Community
Pool, 380 Witherspoon Street,
Princeton, 609-921-2100. Open
swim, tour police and fire facilities, display of emergency tools
and equipment, hot dogs, water,
information on drunk driving, inflatable rides, dunk the police in
tank, giveaways, child safety
awareness kits. Free. 5 to 8 p.m.
West Windsor Township Police
Department, West Windsor
Community Park, 609-799-1222.
www.westwindsorpolice.com. Annual program to promote neighborhood spirit and police-community partnership. Representatives
present information about area
emergency, fire companies, community policing, tactical unit, K-9
unit, and CERT. Also, representatives from Twin W Squad and
Womanspace. Child seat and fingerprint information. No rain date.
Free. 5:30 to 8 p.m.
Plainsboro Police Department,
Morris Davison Park, Plainsboro
Road, 609-799-2333. Rides,
games, classic cars, personal
safety information, and demonstrations. 6 to 8 p.m.
2pm
Churning & Sampling Butter
15 Market Street ★ Trenton, New Jersey ★ (609) 989-3027
www.williamtrenthouse.org
The 1719 William Trent House Museum is owned, maintained and operated
by the City of Trenton, Department of Recreation, Natural Resources and Culture,
Division of Culture with assistance from the NJ Historical Commission, Department of State.
Here at the House of Music,
we teach lessons on all
instruments, including band
and orchestra instruments.
We carry accessories,
music books, rental instruments
and also do repairs.
2479 Pennington Road
Pennington, NJ 08534
P: 609-730-0888
Rider Furniture
Fine Quality Home Furnishings at Substantial Savings
• Dining Room
• Bedroom
• Occasional
• Custom Made Upholstery
• Prints and Accessories
• Leather Furniture
• Antique Furniture
Repair & Refinishing
Floor Model Sale - Entire Month of July
Food & Dining
Plainsboro, 609-452-1515. www.trepiani.com. $5 burgers. Drink
specials. 5 p.m.
Health & Wellness
a.m.
Yoga Workshop, Shreyas Yoga,
Chicklet Books, Princeton Shopping Center, 301 North Harrison
Street, 732-642-8895. www.shreyasyoga.com. Yoga in the Himalayan tradition with Acharya
Girish Jha. Register at
[email protected]. First
class is free. 8:15 a.m. and 6
p.m.
Alzheimer’s Association, Clare
Bridge of Hamilton, 1645 Whitehorse-Mercerville Road, 800-8831180. www.alz.org. 10:30 a.m.
Meditation Group, In Balance
Center for Living, 230 South
Branch Road, Hillsborough, 908369-4949. www.inbalancecenter.com. Free-will donation. 6 to 6:45
p.m.
History
Airport Tour, Princeton
Airport, Route 206, 609921-3100. www.princetonairport.com. Guided tour focuses
on the daily operations of the airfield as well as the past, present,
and future of the 99-year old airport. Free. 10:30 a.m.
Yoga and Creative Movement,
The Infinite U, Center for Relaxation and Healing, Plainsboro,
732-407-2847. www.theinfiniteu.com. For families touched by
autism. Register. $42 per family.
5:15 to 6 p.m.
Lectures
Meeting, CUH2A Toastmasters
Club, HDR CUH2A, 1000 Lenox
Drive, Lawrenceville, 609-2529667. www.chu2a.freetoasthost.org. Practice public speaking and
leadership skills in an encouraging atmosphere. Prospective
members welcome. Noon.
Computer Tips and Tricks, Ewing SeniorNet Computer Literacy Center, 999 Lower Ferry
Road, 609-882-5086. www.ewingsnet.com. Q&A session followed by “Electronic Book Readers” presented by Janet Temos,
director of Princeton University’s
Educational Technologies Center.
Free. 1:30 p.m.
College Planning Seminar,
Kingston Lane, Monmouth Junction, 732-329-4000. www.sbpl.info. Presented by Doug
Schorpp, investment advisor from
Schorpp Capital Management.
Registration requested. 7 p.m.
Live Music
Open Mic Night, Grover’s Mill
Coffee House, 335 Princeton
Hightstown Road, West Windsor,
609-716-8771. www.groversmillcoffee.com. 7 p.m.
Dan Sufalko, Wildflowers
Restaurant, 2572 Pennington
Road, Pennington, 609-7372392. www.wildflowersinnrestaurant.com. Folk rock music
by Plainsboro resident. 9 p.m.
Outdoor Action
Family Night, Lawrence Nature
Center, 481 Drexel Avenue, Lawrenceville, 609-844-7067. www.lawrencenaturecenter.net. “Art
Night” presented by artists Susan
Kiley Colavita, Anthony Colavita,
and Anne Demarais. Rain or
shine. Free. 7 p.m.
A summer program that excels in individualization,
creativity, and age + skill appropriate computer experiences
• ROBOTICS
• BUILD GAMES - “Stagecast,”
“U-Create Games”
• VIDEO CREATION - “iMovie,” “FLIP”
• FITNESS FUN - With a certified trainer
And much more!
Where quality still matters.
4621 Route 27, Kingston, NJ
28th Year in the Princeton Area
609-924-0147
(Princeton Courtyard by Marriott)
Email: [email protected]
www.computersandkids.com
Assembling a robot.
Wednesday
August 4
For Families
August Weekl
Sessions Still A y
va
Full Days: 8:30am ilable!
-5:30pm
Rider Furniture
Monday-Friday 10-6; Saturday 10-5; Sunday 12-5
Design Services Available. www.riderfurniture.com
Beginners Yoga Class,
Onsen For All, 4451 Route
27, Princeton, 609-9244800. www.onsenforall.com. Basic instruction for
those who are new to yoga.
Props used, discussion of
the basic principles of
alignment. Register. $15. 6
to 7 p.m.
609-730-0746
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
Tours for Tots
Stroller Strides, Historical Society of Princeton, Bainbridge
House, 158 Nassau Street,
Princeton, 609-921-6748. www.princetonhistory.org. Walking tour
of Princeton for moms, dads,
grandparents, caregivers, and
their tiny tots. Register by E-mail
to [email protected].
$7. 10 to 11 a.m.
Classical Music
Piano Pedagogy Seminar, New
School for Music Study, Westminster Choir College, Princeton,
609-921-2900. www.nsmspiano.org. Four-hand music concert
presented by Ena Barton and
Phyllis Lehrer on piano. Free. 8
p.m.
Pop Music
www.princetonlibrary.org. Trio
Velez presents Brazilian and
Latin sounds. Free. 7 p.m.
Art
Art After Hours, Zimmerli Art
Museum, George and Hamilton
streets, New Brunswick, 732-9327237. www.zimmerlimuseum.rutgers.edu. Gallery tours, music,
readings, refreshments. $3. 6 to 9
p.m.
Drama
High School Musical, Plays-inthe-Park, Capestro Theater,
Roosevelt Park, Route 1 South,
Edison, 732-548-2884. www.playsinthepark.com. Musical.
Bring a chair. $5. 8:30 p.m.
Film
and refreshments to discuss ethical issues with a Harvard professor. Topics: “What’s a Fair Start?”
and “What Do We Deserve?”
Free. 1:30 to 3 p.m.
Dancing
609-924-6763. www.princetoncountrydancers.org. Instruction
followed by dance. $8. 7:30 to
10:30 p.m.
JULY 28, 2010
U.S. 1
Beethoven and Ice Cream: Soprano Rochelle
Ellis solos in an open summer sing of Beethoven's Mass in C, with the Voices Chorale, Thursday, August 5, at Music Together, Hopewell, followed by an ice cream social. 609-637-9383.
Good Causes
Volunteer Orientation Meeting,
HomeFront, 1880 Princeton Avenue, Lawrenceville, 609-9899417. www.homefrontnj.org. Information about volunteer opportunities. Register. 6 p.m.
Darla Rich Quartet, Fedora Cafe,
2633 Main Street, Lawrenceville,
609-895-0844. Jazz vocals. BYOB. 7 to 9 p.m.
Comedy Clubs
Socials
Jim Florentine, The Stress Factory, 90 Church Street, New
Brunswick, 732-545-4242. www.stressfactory.com. “I’m Your Saviour,” a one-man show. $8 to $10.
8 p.m.
Knitting Circle, Lawrence Library, Darrah Lane and Route 1,
Lawrence Township, 609-9896922. www.mcl.org. For knitters
who already know the basics. Ann
Garwig is available to assist. Other needle crafters are invited.
Register. 7 to 8:30 p.m.
Meeting, Outer Circle Ski Club,
212-620-7479. www.outercircleskiclub.org. Call for location. 8
p.m.
Farmers’ Market
St. Francis Medical Center,
Chambers Street, Trenton, 609599-6464.Seasonal fruits and
vegetables. 11 a.m. to 2 p.m.
609-298-0604. Foods, plants,
crafts, soaps, cooking demonstrations. 4 p.m.
Health & Wellness
Blood Drive, American Red
Cross, Stress Factory Comedy
Club, 90 Church Street, New
Brunswick, 800-GIVELIFE. www.pleasegiveblood.org. Register.
11:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m.
Benefits of Whole Foods, Center
for Relaxation and Healing, 666
Plainsboro Road, Suite 635,
Plainsboro, 609-750-7432. Register. 7 to 8:30 p.m.
Holistic Weight Loss Seminar,
Harvest Moon, 206 Sandpiper
Court, Pennington, 609-4624717. Program focuses on cognitive, emotional, and behavioral
aspects of overeating. Register.
$40. 7 p.m.
Intro to Martial Arts, Can Do Fitness Club, 121 Main Street, Forrestal Village, Plainsboro, 609514-0500. Register. Free. 7:30 to
8:30 p.m.
History
Stroller Strides, Historical Society of Princeton, Bainbridge
Princeton, 609-921-6748. www.princetonhistory.org. Walking tour
of Princeton for moms, dads,
grandparents, caregivers, and
their tiny tots. Register by E-mail
$7. 10 to 11 a.m.
609-924-8144. www.morven.org.
Tour the restored mansion, galleries, and gardens before or after
tea. Register. $15. 1 p.m.
Lectures
Networking Group, St. Gregory
the Great Church, 4620 Nottingham Way, Hamilton Square. Support in the job search process. Email [email protected] for
information. 7 to 9 p.m.
UFO Ghosts and Earth Mysteries, UFO and Paranormal Study
Group, Hamilton Township Library, Municipal Drive, 609-6318955. www.drufo.org. Discussion
about UFOs, ghosts, psychic phenomena, crop circles, poltergeists, channeling, and government cover-ups facilitated by Pat
Marcattilio. Free. 7:30 to 10 p.m.
Star Shows
Raritan Valley College, Planetarium, College Center, North
Branch, 908-526-1200. www.raritanval.edu. Rockin’ Rocket
Ride. Register. $6. 2 p.m.
Live Music
Jack Henry Trio, Spigola Ristorante, 3817 Crosswicks-Hamilton Square Road, Hamilton, 609585-5255. www.spigola.net. Jack
Henry on drums; Lauren Hooker
on piano and vocals, Beldon Bullock on bass. Reservations recommended. 6:30 to 10:30 p.m.
Thursday
August 5
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
My Dear Watson
Drama
Fifth of July, Princeton Summer
Theater, Hamilton Murray Theater, 609-258-7062. Drama by
Lanford Wilson on family and
friends of a Vietnam veteran
evolves into battles for property,
custody, and survival. $16. 8 p.m.
Edison, 732-548-2884. www.playsinthepark.com. Musical.
Film
Thursday Teen Movies, West
Windsor Library, 333 North Post
Road, 609-799-0462. www.mcl.org. Screening of “Sherlock
Holmes.” For ages 13 and up.
Snacks provided. Free. 6:30 p.m.
Classical Music
Summer Sings, Voices Chorale,
Music Together, 225 Pennington
Hopewell Road, Hopewell, 609637-9383. www.voiceschorale.org. Informal reading of
Beethoven’s Mass in C. Featured
soloists include Rochelle Ellis, soprano; Lisa Reifschneider, mezzo; William Mosher, tenor; and
Richard Bozic, bass; with Christopher Frisco on piano. Ice cream
social follows. $5. 7:30 p.m.
Outdoor Concerts
Summer Park Series, Monroe
Township Cultural Arts Commission, Thompson Park, Monroe, 732-521-2111. Rhythms and
Roots with Latin and soul tunes.
Weather-permitting. Free. 6 to 8
p.m.
Summer Courtyard Concert Series, Arts Council of Princeton,
Princeton Shopping Center, 609924-8777. Thursday Night Jazz
performs. Free. 6:30 to 8:30 p.m.
Newark Black Film Festival, New
Jersey State Museum, Auditorium, 225 West State Street, Trenton, 609-292-5420. www.newjerseystatemuseum.org. Screenings of Paul Robeson awards for
long and short documentaries,
long and short narratives, and
honorable mentions. 6 p.m.
Late Thursdays, Princeton University Art Museum, Princeton
campus, 609-258-3788. http://artmuseum.princeton.edu.
Screening of “Shampoo,” 1975,
Hal Ashby. Outdoors. Bring seating. In McCormick 101 if it rains.
Popcorn and soda will be served.
Free. 8 p.m.
Color Salon
Dancing
Argentine Tango, Black Cat Tango, Viva Ballroom, 1891
Brunswick Pike, Lawrenceville,
609-273-1378. Beginner and intermediate classes followed by
guided practice. No partner necessary. $12. 8 p.m.
Literati
601 Nassau Park, 609-514-0040.
Danielle Dolce, author of “Where
is Love?” presents storytime and
signing. 11 a.m.
FREE
Trial
Session
• Private & group instruction
• Ages 4 through adult
• Program includes local,
state & national auditions
2010 student body includes:
Principal violin/viola chairs in GPYO, YOCJ, All State Orchestra
Paul Manulik, Director • [email protected]
609-751-7664
N OW E NROLLING
FOR
F ULL
AND
P ART T IME C LASSES
www.gentlehealingschool.com
Gentle Healing Wellness Spa
www.gentlehealingspa.com • 609-409-2700
1274 South River Road - Cranbury, New Jersey
ARE YOU R EADY
FOR A
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Why Choose “Gentle Healing of Massage”?
• Our instructors are bodywork practitioners who have been in the field for average
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• Small class sizes for individual attention
• The School Owner has been a massage therapist for over 20 years and continues
to be involved in Holistic Education
Financial Aid Available through
• Everything included in low tuition cost.
Title
lV funding for those who qualify.
• Beautiful Campus Designed to Feel like Home
In house financing available.
• Best Education available in New Jersey
Gentle Healing School of Massage is accredited by the Accrediting Commission of Career Schools
and Colleges (ACCSC) *New Jersey Department of Education ( N.J.D.O.E.)*American Massage
Therapy Association ( A.M.T.A.) *Associated Bodyworkers and Massage Professionals (A.B.M.P.)
National Certification Board for Therapeutic Massage and Bodywork (N.C.B.T.M.B.)
THE
D ESIRE
TO
H ELP O THERS ?
Come and join those who have already enrolled
in Gentle Healing’s 600 Hour Massage Therapy
Certification Course. This course will cover areas
in Aromatherapy, Anatomy, Physiology, Shiatsu,
Neuromuscular Therapy, Thai Massage,
Cranio Sacral Therapy and much much more.
We Also Offer Continuing Education Programs.
Visit Us at: www.gentlehealingschool.com
ENJOY A 55 MINUTE STUDENT
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(plus tax) please bring this coupon - single use only - Select Day-Times,
Evenings, and weekends( cannot be used with other offers
or Gentle Healing Spa Membership) expires September 8, 2010
21
22
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
August 5
Faith
High Holiday Programs, String
of Pearls, Unitarian Universalist
Congregation, 50 Cherry Hill
Road, Princeton, 609-221-6036.
www.stringofpearlsweb.org.
Screening of “East of Eden” followed by discussion of imperfection in the Jewish tradition with
Rabbi Donna Kirshbaum. Free. 7
p.m.
Food & Dining
Kids Stuff
Kids’ Book Club, Borders
Books, 601 Nassau Park, 609514-0040. For ages 8 to 12. 2
p.m.
Live Music
Singer Songwriter Showcase,
Triumph Brewing Company,
609-924-7855. www.triumphbrew.com. Hosted by Frank
Thewes of West Windsor. 9 p.m.
Outdoor Action
Plainsboro, 609-452-1515. www.trepiani.com. $5 pizza. Drink specials. 5 p.m.
Pontoon Boat Nature Tours,
Mercer County Park Commission, Mercer Lake, Marina, West
Windsor, 609-989-6540. www.mercercounty.org. For all ages.
Bring binoculars. Weather-permitting. $6. 1 to 2:30 p.m.
Farmers’ Market
Singles
Princeton Farmers Market, Hinds
Plaza, Witherspoon Street,
Princeton, 609-655-8095. www.princetonfarmersmarket.com.
Produce, cheese, breads, baked
goods, flowers, chef cooking
demonstrations, books for sale,
family activities, and workshops.
Rain or shine. 11 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Happy Hour, Princeton Area Singles Network, BT Bistro, 3499
Route 1 South, West Windsor.
Cocktails, appetizers, and dinner
available. Register online. 5:30 to
8 p.m.
Divorced and Separated Support Group, Hopewell Presbyterian Church, Hopewell, 609466-0758. www.hopewellpres.org. Register. 7:30 p.m.
Health & Wellness
a.m.
Alzheimer’s Association, 196
Windsor, 800-883-1180. www.alz.org. 1 p.m.
For Seniors
Workshop for Better Health,
Grounds For Sculpture, 18 Fairgrounds Road, Hamilton, 609689-1089. www.groundsforsculpture.org. Walk followed by
“Reducing Risks of Falls,” a discussion with Stoneking Wellness
Center. Includes healthy refreshments and park admission. Register. $10 9:30 a.m.
Friday
August 6
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
Recession on Display
Exhibition Tour, Historical Society of Princeton, Bainbridge
Princeton, 609-921-6748. www.princetonhistory.org. “Recession
Hits Home: Unemployment in
Central New Jersey” summer exhibition. Free. 2 p.m.
Art
Art Exhibit, Morpeth Contemporary, Open Space Gallery, 36
Bridge Street, Frenchtown, 609333-9393. www.morpethcontemporary.com. Works by Illia
Barger, Michael Madigan, James
Jansma, and Pamela Farrell. On
view to August 29. All four artists
will be present at First Friday. 6 to
8 p.m.
Drama
$29.50. 7 p.m.
Drama by Lanford Wilson focusing on family and friends of a Vietnam veteran evolves into battles
for property, custody, and survival. $16. 8 p.m.
High School Musical, Plays-inthe-Park, Capestro Theater, Roosevelt Park, Route 1 South, Edison, 732-548-2884. www.playsinthepark.com. Musical. Bring a
chair. $5. 8:30 p.m.
Double Bill: Hammell on Trial — one angry
young punk rocker with a guitar and his own political view of the world — appears with Bobby
Steele on Friday, August 6, at the Record Collector, Bordentown. 609-324-0880.
Broadway in Concert
Farmers’ Market
The World Goes Round, Washington Crossing Open Air Theater, 355 Washington CrossingPennington Road, Titusville, 267885-9857. www.dpacatoat.com.
The songs of Kander and Ebb.
$10; $7 for children. Blankets,
seat cushions, and insect repellent are recommended. Picnics
welcome before show. Food
available. Parking fee of $5. 7:30
p.m.
Downtown Hightstown, Memorial Park, Main Street.Produce,
flowers, baked goods, and area
vendors. 4 to 8 p.m.
Film
Honey Harvest, Howell Living
History Farm, Valley Road, off
Route 29, Titusville, 609-7373299. www.howellfarm.org. Premiere of “The Farmer and the
Horse,” a documentary by filmmaker and environmental journalist Jared Flesher. The story will be
projected in a picturesque farm
field under the stars. The story is
of three young, sustainabilityminded farmers in New Jersey
who share an idea of farming with
draft horses instead of tractors.
Farm tours, live music, and discussions with Flesher followed by
screening. Bring lawn chair and
blanket. $3 donation. 7 p.m.
Dancing
11 p.m.
Comedy Clubs
Chips Cooney, Catch a Rising
Star, Hyatt Regency, 102
609-987-8018. www.catcharisingstar.com. Register. $17.50. 8 p.m.
Faith
Outdoor Shabbat, Har Sinai
Temple, 2421 Pennington Road,
www.harsinai.org. Weather permitting, Shabbat services will be
held outdoors. 7 p.m.
Food & Dining
Gourmet Cooking Class, Miele
Design Center, 9 Independence
Way, Princeton, 800-843-7215.
www.mieleusa.com. Fast and
Healthy Beef Dinners. Register.
$50. 11 a.m.
A Night at the Opera, The Frog
and the Peach, 29 Dennis Street,
www.frogandpeach.com. Italian
opera presented by Annamaria
Stefanelli, with dinner and wine
pairings. Register. $125. 7 p.m.
Health & Wellness
Drum Circle, Center for Relaxation and Healing, 666 Plainsboro Road, Suite 635, Plainsboro,
609-750-7432. No experience required. Register. $15. 7 to 8:45
p.m.
History
Exhibition Tour, Historical Society of Princeton, Bainbridge
Princeton, 609-921-6748. www.princetonhistory.org. “Recession
Hits Home: Unemployment in
Central New Jersey” summer exhibition. Free. 2 p.m.
Hiroshima and Nagasaki Remembrance, Coalition for
Peace Action, Institute for Advanced Study, Olden Lane,
Princeton, 609-924-5022. www.peacecoalition.org. Annual ceremony to mark the anniversary of
the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki on August 6,
1945. Speakers include Katsuyuki
Nigahisa, who was living in Hiroshima; Shigamitsu Tanaka, who
was living in Nagasaki. Solidarity
Singers present music of peace.
Origami instruction in crane folding. Floating of candles on the
pond. Bring a picnic at 6 p.m. Program begins at 7 p.m. 6 p.m.
Family Theater
Aladdin and his Wonderful Magical Lamp, Bucks County Playhouse, 70 South Main Street,
Live Music
Dan Sufalko, BT Bistro, 3499
609-919-9403. www.btbistro.com.
Concert with release of his fivesong debut EP “Anything I Want
to Be” unveiling his blend of rock,
blues, and country. Sufalko is a
Plainsboro resident. 5 p.m.
Wine and Music, Hopewell Valley Vineyards, 46 Yard Road,
www.hopewellvalleyvineyards.com. Jersey Jazz Trio performs
with David Berends on piano,
Lance Sulton on bass, and Mike
Ipri on drums. Wine available. 5
to 8 p.m.
JULY 28, 2010
Flashback Fridays, KatManDu,
50 Riverview Plaza, Waterfront
Park, Route 29, Trenton, 609393-7300. www.katmandutrenton.com. Buffet from 5 to 8 p.m.,
$5. 5 p.m.
Dick Gratton, Chambers Walk
Cafe, 2667 Main Street, Lawrenceville, 609-896-5995. Solo
jazz guitar. 6 to 9 p.m.
Summer Wine and Music Series,
Crossing Vineyards and Winery, 1853 Wrightstown Road,
Washington Crossing, PA, 215493-6500. www.crossingvineyards.com. Mark Cosgrove
with bluegrass. Bring a lawn chair.
$15. Wine and cheese available.
Buffet dinner and reserved seating for concert, $25. Register.
Rain or shine. 7 p.m.
Hammell on Trial and Bobby
Steele, The Record Collector
Store, 358 Farnsworth Avenue,
Bordentown, 609-324-0880.
www.the-record-collector.com.
$15. 7:30 p.m.
Open Mic, Borders Books, 601
Nassau Park, 609-514-0040.
www.bordersgroupinc.com. All
musicians welcome. 8 p.m.
Fireworks
New Hope Chamber, New Hope,
215-862-9990. www.newhopechamber.com. Happy hour, food
specials, shopping until 10 p.m.,
and fireworks at 9:30 p.m., in both
New Hope and Lambertville. 5
p.m.
Singles
Divorce Recovery Program,
Princeton Church of Christ, 33
River Road, Princeton, 609-5813889. www.princetonchurchofchrist.com. Support group for
men and women. Free. 7:30 p.m.
Drop In, Yardley Singles, Washington Crossing Inn, River Road,
PA, 215-736-1288. www.yardleysingles.org. Music and dancing.
Cash bar. 9 p.m.
Socials
Luncheon, Rotary Club of the
Princeton Corridor, Hyatt Regency, Carnegie Center, 609-7990525. Register. Guests, $20.
12:15 p.m.
Scrabble, Classics Used and
Rare Books, 117 South Warren
Street, Trenton, 609-394-8400. All
skill levels welcome. 6:30 p.m.
Sports
609-394-8326. www.trentonthunder.com. Binghamtom Mets.
$9 to $12. 7:05 p.m.
Saturday
August 7
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
Catch a Rising Star
609-987-8018. www.catcharisingstar.com. Register. $20. 7:30 and
9:30 p.m
Outdoor Concerts
International Summer Music Series, Liberty Village Outlets, 1
Church Street, Flemington, 908782-8550. Barynya presents concert. Weather permitting. 1 to 4
p.m.
Summer Music Series, Palmer
Square, On the Green, 609-9212333. www.palmersquare.com.
Free. 2 to 4 p.m.
S3 and the Truth, West Windsor
Arts Council, Nassau Park Pavilion, West Windsor, 609-9191982. www.westwindsorarts.org.
Free concert in “..and the beat
goes on” summer music series.
Bring chairs or blankets. Inside
Panera if raining. 6 p.m.
6th Street Quaternion, Blue
Point Grill, 258 Nassau Street,
Princeton, 609-921-1211. www.bluepointgrill.com. 7 p.m.
Art
Drama
for property, custody, and survival. $16. 2 and 8 p.m.
www.buckscountyplayhouse.com. Musical. $22. 4 and 8 p.m.
$29.50. 7 p.m.
High School Musical, Plays-inthe-Park, Capestro Theater, Roosevelt Park, Route 1 South, Edison, 732-548-2884. www.playsinthepark.com. Musical. Bring a
chair. $5. 8:30 p.m.
Broadway in Concert
The World Goes Round, Washington Crossing Open Air Theater, 355 Washington CrossingPennington Road, Titusville, 267885-9857. www.dpacatoat.com.
The songs of Kander and Ebb.
$10; $7 for children. Blankets,
seat cushions, and insect repellent are recommended. Picnics
welcome before show. Food
available. Parking fee of $5. 7:30
p.m.
Dancing
California Mix, Central Jersey
Dance Society, Universalist Congregation, 50 Cherry Hill Road,
Princeton, 609-945-1883. www.centraljerseydance.org. Bachata
and two-step lessons followed by
open dancing, $12. No partner
needed. 7 p.m.
11 p.m.
Literati
601 Nassau Park, 609-514-0040.
www.bordersgroupinc.com.
Booksignings for three authors.
Sylvia Brown-Roberts, author of
“Behind Church Doors,” 11 a.m.
Bill D’Arienzo, author of “By
George!: Lessons in Leadership
from George Washington, CEO,”
at 1 p.m. Patricia A. Myatt, author
of “Keepin’ Up With the Jones:
Secrets the Banks Don’t Want
You to Know,” at 3 p.m. 11 a.m.
Good Causes
Art Reception, Trenton Downtown, 354 South Broad Street,
Trenton, 609-393-8998. Reception for “Freud: Theory of the Unconscious,” an exhibit featuring
the works of Tamara Ramos,
Hilbert Espina, Leon Rainbow,
Han Koon Ooi, Kasso, and
Matthew Giobbi. Donations invited to assist TDA in efforts to bring
special events to Trenton. 6 to 9
p.m.
Comedy Clubs
609-987-8018. www.catcharisingstar.com. Register. $20. 7:30 and
9:30 p.m.
Fairs
Burger Mania Cook Off, AC Marketing, Mercer County Park, near
the ice skating rink, West Windsor, 609-516-9306. www.wgotw.com. Mercer County restaurants
and caterers compete for the title
of Mercer County’s Ultimate Burger Award. Music by 2U, with U2
music; and the Dawgs. Games, a
U.S. 1
23
hay bale maze, and paintball for kids. Hibernian beer
garden and holiday craft
vendors. Bring non-perishable items for the holiday
food drive to benefit the
Mount Carmel Guild.
Judges include Douglas
Fee, Frank Benowitz, and
Pat Tanner. Competitors include Dublin Square Irish
Pub, McCaffrey’s, Killarney’s Publick House, and
Funnibonz. Free. Refreshments available. 3 to 9 p.m.
Food & Dining
Canning and Freezing
Class, Terhune Orchards,
330 Cold Soil Road, 609924-2310. www.terhuneorchards.com. Food preservation know-how in this
once-a-summer class. Rain
or shine. Register. Free. 10
a.m.
Product Cooking Demonstration, Miele Design
Center, 9 Independence
Way, Princeton, 800-8437231. www.mieleusa.com.
Register. Free. Noon.
Food Tastings, Nassau
Seafood & Produce, 256
Nassau Street, Princeton,
609-921-0620. www.nassaustreetseafood.com.
Free. Noon to 2 p.m.
Bottle Your Own Olive Oil
and Balsamic Vinegar,
The Grape Escape, 12 Stults
Road, Dayton, 609-409-9463.
www.thegrapeescape.net. Register. $85: $160 per couple. 12:30
p.m.
Farmers’ Market
Jamesburg Revitalization Coalition, Jamesburg Presbyterian
Church, Gatzmer Avenue and
Church Street, 732-512-7417.
www.ilovejamesburg.com. Produce, nonprofits, specialty vendors. 9 a.m. to 2 p.m.
West Windsor Community
Farmers’ Market, Vaughn Drive
Parking Lot, Princeton Junction
Train Station, 609-577-5113.
www.westwindsorfarmersmarket.org. Produce, bakery
items, pizza, coffee, and other
foods and flowers. West Windsor
Arts Council, West Windsor Bike
and Pedestrian Alliance, and Yes,
We Can, a group that collects
food for the Crisis Ministry of
Princeton and Trenton. Ukrainian
egg painting. 9 a.m. to 1 p.m.
Crisis Ministry of Princeton and
Trenton, North Clinton and North
Olden avenues, Trenton, 609396-9355. www.thecrisisministry.org. Produce, health screenings,
cooking demonstrations, and
health and wellness programs.
Vendors will accept food stamps.
11 a.m. to 2 p.m.
Gardens
Create a Butterfly Habitat, Master Gardeners of Mercer
County, 431A Federal City Road,
www.mgofmc.org. Teresa Knipper
and Barbara Anuzis share tips on
attracting butterflies to your yard.
Register. $3. 10 to 11 a.m.
Health & Wellness
Zumba Master Class, Can Do
Fitness Club, 121 Main Street,
Forrestal Village, Plainsboro,
609-514-0500. www.candofitness.com. Register. Free. 9 to
10 a.m.
Workout in the Park, RWJHamilton, Mercer County Park,
Zumba and Boogie Box. Bring
mat or towel. $5. 11 a.m.
Meditation Group, Mercer Free
School, Ewing Library, 609-4566821. Discussion and practice.
Free. 2 to 3 p.m.
Outdoor Yoga, Lululemon Athletica, Palmer Square, Princeton,
609-921-2035. www.lululemon.com/princeton. Vinyasa class presented by Susan Sprecher and
Romy Toussaint. Free. 6:30 p.m.
History
Children’s Day, Roebling Museum, 100 Second Avenue, Roebling, 609-599-7200. www.roeblingmuseum.org. Games
Come to Camelot: 'The Kennedys, Portrait of a
Family: Photographs by Richard Avedon,' opens
Saturday, August 7, at Morven. This exhibit from
the Smithsonian National Museum of American
History provides a behind the scenes look at the
first family. 609-924-8144.
from the early 20th century including marbles, bean bag toss, bottle
drop, races, and the making of a
turn of the century scrapbook. For
children in grades 3 to 6. Storytime by Augie featuring the story
of the building of the Brooklyn
Bridge. Adults, $5; children, free.
11 a.m. to 2 p.m.
Smithsonian Traveling Exhibition, Morven Museum, 55 Stockton Street, Princeton, 609-9248144. www.morven.org. “The
Kennedys: Portrait of a Family”
features 27 framed black and
white photographs taken by
Richard Avedon on assignment
for Harper’s Bazaar and Look
magazines. Taken January 3,
1961 in Palm Beach, Florida, the
photographs include candid and
posed portraits of President Elect
John F. Kennedy; his wife,
Jacqueline; and their children,
Caroline and John Jr. On view to
October 29. Wednesday to Friday, 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.; Saturday
and Sundays, noon to 4 p.m. $5.
Noon to 4 p.m.
Kids Stuff
Kids Fishing Derby, Plainsboro
PBA, Pond at Woodland Drive,
Plainsboro, 609-799-2333. For
ages 7 to 12. Participants receive
a tee-shirt, fishing pole, and bait.
Prizes for longest, shortest, first
and last fish. Register. $5 donation. 10 a.m.
Continued on page 46
24
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
n’t know one night was better than
another to jump off a building. I
guess I missed that article in the
Times.”
“It wasn’t in the newspaper, it’s
posted on the bulletin board back
at the precinct. Tonight was supposed to be a quiet one, what with
this bein’ Christmas Eve. You sure
pissed off the Captain. This would
have been his first Christmas Eve
at home with his family in 10
years.”
A smirk appeared on the
jumper’s face.
“What a pity; I’ll send him a
condolence card. At least the man
has a home and a family.”
“He may not after tonight,” said
O’Malley.
“His wife’s been threatenin’ to
leave him for some time. What
with no regular hours, on call any
time of the day and night, and
hardly ever home, this may just
push her over the edge — if you
know what I mean.”
“That’s really cute, Officer. Do
you people sit around and think up
these lines, or just ad lib em as you
go along? I thought you came up
here to talk me out of jumpin’?”
“Not necessarily. Mostly, I
came up to get your name and address in case you weren’t carrying
any ID; makes it a lot easier to
contact your next of kin.”
“That’s very funny, cause I
don’t have any next of kin. And
the only person I even care about
is on the beach down in Jamaica
with my so-called best friend.”
“Really? Jamaica, huh. Well, at
least she’s got sense enough to get
away to some place warm. You
should have offered to take her
there yourself. Maybe that’s all
she really wanted — to get away
to some place warm. Did you ever
ask her?”
“No, but it wouldn’t have made
any difference. This has been
comin’ on ever since the Fourth of
July picnic. I watched it happen
right before my eyes. It just kept
gettin’ worse and worse, but I was
too weak to stop it. She promised
me a happy ending, but I can see
that’s not gonna happen. I’ve got
no one to blame but
myself, though; I
lost control and let
her take over.”
“Lost control?
You sound like
you’ve given up on
her. You know how fickle women
can be. Maybe she’ll have a really
crappy time with this guy and realize what a big mistake she’s made.
You seem like a nice fellow. Who
knows, she may be back in town
tomorrow beggin’ for your forgiveness.”
“That’s one possible ending,
but not very likely. I don’t see it
that way. My thinkin’ was she’d
stay with him only as long as he
kept payin’ for everything, then
she’d come back to me. I didn’t
plan on this guy havin’ so much
money; it looks like they’ll be
down there a long, long, time.”
“So, she’s a gold digger, huh.
They’re the worst. You can never
figure that kind out. It’s you until
it’s him. Then it’s him until the
next one with more money comes
along. Women like that are so
fickle.”
“Fickle isn’t the word I used. I
called her indecisive. She can’t
decide if she’s in love with the
man or the money. She always
seems to want both until she’s
forced to choose. I can’t decide
which it is, insecurity or infatuation.”
“What are you a psychologist
or somethin’? It sounds like
you’ve been psychoanalyzin’ this
girl for some time, Mister...?”
“Johnson, Eugene Johnson.
And, no I’m not a psychologist;
I’m a writer.”
“A writer? Well, that explains a
lot. Writers spend a lot of time at
their desks, alone, isolated, caught
up in their own little world. Maybe
you just need to spend more time
with this girl; you know, get away
from the writing and take her out
to dinner, or dancin’, or maybe a
movie once in a while. She’s probably just lonely for some company. Have you ever thought of
that?”
“Sonia lonely? Don’t make me
laugh. I spend every night with
Sonia. I sleep with her, dream
about her, buy her expensive gifts,
A or B - Who May
My Fair Queen Be?
Decisions, Decisions, Decisions,
Swinging Singles
A: I haven’t found you, please find me! I am a 54 yr.
old DWF living in Queens NY. 5’5” tall with a 125lb
trim frame, beautiful brown eyes and hair, a loving
heart and personality. I’m looking for a relationship
with a nice gentleman 65 to 89 years of age.
B: I am a sweet old widowed lady nearing 90 and
looking for love and companionship. I live in an assisted living complex but don’t want a fellow resident as it’s bad policy to dip your pen in the company’s ink. So I’m counting on you to give me a wink.
’Tis a matter that has me in a tizzy.
Forsooth A’s tender age and frame
yea verily would kindle me all aflame.
Yet for King to court in Queens
would draw out his every means
and soon force him to become resident
where wise Lady B, lest she set precedent,
would never deign to enter the rink
’to dip her quill in the company ink!
Alas and alack I’m in a morass.
My kingdom for a bonnie lass.
— Paul Spagnoli
Spagnoli is a retired lawyer, a long time resident of central New
Jersey, a Princeton University graduate, Class of 1946, and a
World War II veteran. Currently he tutors English composition and
grammar at Mercer County Community College. He writes fiction,
memoirs, observations, anecdotes, and many letters.
could happen to
me, it could happen to you, too.”
The jumper
stared intently at
Officer O’Malley. His shivering had increased noticeably and
his face was beginning to turn a
pale blue. O’Malley waited anxiously while the man sat suspended in a trance-like state. Not wanting to make any sudden move, the
Officer stood silent. His mind was
racing to find just the right words
to persuade this distraught man to
come down off the ledge. Time
was working against him, and
O’Malley knew the next few minutes were critical. Eugene Johnson
suddenly came back from wherever his brain had taken him. He refocused on Officer O’Malley
standing a few feet away with a
skeptical look.
“Look pal, I find it hard to believe you’re the real writer; you
psycho cops are pretty slick. Why
would you risk your life doin’ a
job like this after all the money
you’ve made? I’m a nobody, a loser, and my novel is terrible. At
least that’s what 23 editors have
told me. I’m takin’ it down with
me when I jump.”
Shifting his position slightly,
the jumper said:
“If you really did write all those
books, what was the name of cat
number three stolen from Mayor
Bloomberg, and when was he
stolen?”
Pausing for a moment to make
sure he got it right, the Officer
said:
“Let’s see; that would be
Jupiter, the Balinese cat. He was
held for $50,000 ransom after
bein’ stolen on Halloween night.”
“Okay; what about cat number
six, Thorax. Who was his owner
and what was his favorite food?”
“Did you like him? He’s my favorite,” said O’Malley.
“He’s a Norwegian Forest cat
like my own. He was a heavy
growler and loved Purina’s chicken and liver. Trump offered a
$100,000 reward for his safe return.”
“Okay, okay; so let’s say you
really are Ryan O’Malley the
writer; why would you waste your
time tryin’ to help a wannabe like
me? It doesn’t make sense.”
“For starters, Eugene, if you
jump you’ll give the writin’ business a bad name; you wouldn’t
want that on your conscience
would you? Second, you realize
that those same publishers who rejected your manuscript would now
wanna publish your book posthumously and cash in on your story.
Could you die happy thinkin’
about all the money you made
those guys by jumpin’? And last, I
bet you have a couple of books in
you. Most beginners write so-so
books on their first try. But eventually you’ll write a really good
one and become famous. It can
happen.”
Wacky Writers
take her to nice places. No, I don’t
see how I could possibly spend
more time with Sonia. She’s on
every page and in every chapter I
write.”
“Wait a minute. Let me see if I
understand this, Eugene. You’re
tellin’ me you’re up here on a
ledge — freezin’ your ass off on
Christmas Eve — and plannin’ to
jump six stories over a character in
a book you’re writing?”
“Laugh if you want to, Mister...?”
“O’Malley, Ryan O’Malley.
And I wasn’t laughin’ at you, Eugene. I was just tryin’ to understand where you’re comin’ from.
Believe me I can sympathize with
what you’re goin’ though. I remember the time I had a serious
blockage in my own writing. My
‘You psycho cops are
pretty slick. Why would
you risk your life doin’
a job like this after all
the money you’ve
made? I’m a nobody,
my novel is terrible. At
least that’s what 23 editors have told me. I’m
takin’ it down with me
when I jump.’
characters ran away with my stories, and I thought I would never
get it back. I hadn’t thought of
jumpin’ off a building, but I did
damn near kill myself with cheap
booze.”
“You gotta be kiddin’; you’re
Ryan O’Malley — the famous
New York mystery writer? I’ve
read your cat burglar books, all
seven of them. They’re brilliant. I
can’t believe you ever had writer’s
block — that’s impossible.”
“Oh no; nothin’s impossible,
Eugene. Well, I take that back.
Puttin’ you back together again if
you jump tonight would be impossible. But, savin’ your book is still
doable as long as you’re alive.”
“Savin’ my book is impossible.
I have 23 rejection letters that say
so. It’s hopeless. They all say the
same thing; a boring beginning; a
weak middle; dull characters; improbable dialogue; a really sucky
ending. I’m at my wits end. I don’t
know what else to do. I figure
there’s no point goin’ on. I’m
takin’ the manuscript with me
when I jump.”
“Is that what’s in your briefcase, your manuscript?”
“Yeah, it’s all here; notes, journals, rejection letters, hundreds of
pages of garbage. None of it deserves to live.”
“I’d love to read it, Eugene, really. I have a very good agent, and
if I can help you rework some of
the parts, I bet we could get him to
pitch it to my publisher. It’s worth
a try. You can always jump off a
building later if it doesn’t work
out.”
The jumper turned and looked
at the Officer for the first time.
“I know you don’t really mean
that; you’re just doin’ your job,
tryin’ to save another whacko
from messin’ up the city street.
Nobody can fix this piece of crap,
not even a good writer like you. I
had no idea Ryan O’Malley was a
city cop.”
“I haven’t always been a writer.
That was somethin’ I took up after
I became a policeman. The pension’s too good to give up, so I
write in my spare time. I got lucky
with the cat burglar series. But if it
T
he jumper was now shivering
uncontrollably and swaying
from side to side as he peered over
the side of the ledge. The temperature had dropped another 10 degrees, and the snow was falling
even heavier. Officer O’Malley
could see he was running out of
time; the man could go into hypothermia and fall from his perch
any minute. Taking several tentative steps, the policeman held out
the blanket, which the jumper took
and wrapped around his shoulders.
O’Malley watched helplessly,
afraid to grab him, and fearful he
might lose consciousness.
“Look, how ’bout you let me
read your novel and share it with
my writers’ group. You could read
a few excerpts at our next meeting
and get some really good feedback
— whadda ya say?”
The jumper relaxed his shoulders slightly, and, for the first
time, revealed a look of hope and a
will to live.
“You really are good at this,
aren’t you, Mr. Writer-Policeman
Ryan O’Malley; writin’ and savin’
people’s lives. I still don’t understand why you would want to help
a loser like me, but I’m tellin’ you
right now, if this doesn’t work out,
I’ll be back up here. Only the next
time I really will do it. I don’t
think I can take another rejection
letter.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, O’Malley waved to the firemen on
the ground to alert them.
“It’s a deal. And from the sound
of your story, I’d say the chances
of you getting’ another rejection
letter are slim to none.”
Using his police radio, the Officer asked the fire company to send
up their extension ladder and get
the two men off the ledge as
quickly as possible. Once safely
on the ground, the E.M.T. crew
put the men in an ambulance and
sped off to the nearest hospital.
They were followed closely by
Rabbi Cohen from the Council of
Churches.
A little later that night, Captain
Terrence and Officer O’Malley
were sitting at the large table in the
precinct conference room. O’Malley was drinking another cup of
hot black coffee as Captain Terrence was completing his report of
the evening’s incident.
“So, where’s this wanna-be
writer now, O’Malley?”
“He’s at Bellevue, sir; wrapped
in blankets and under sedation.
My guess is he’s gonna be there
for some time; he needs a lot of
therapy.”
“And what about that briefcase
he had with him; what was in it?”
“About a half a ream of blank
paper and 23 rejection letters he
wrote to himself. Seems he never
did actually write anything; he just
kept playin’ his story over and
over in his head. Then he would
write himself a rejection letter,
criticizin’ everything; the characters, the dialogue, the settings,
even the title. He finally drove
himself crazy. Poor devil has the
desire to write, but he’s sadly
lackin’ in self-confidence. I did
read a couple of those rejection
letters; they weren’t half bad.”
“It’s amazing he actually believed you were Ryan O’Malley,
the famous author. That was some
sales job you did up there.”
“Thank you, sir. Yeah; that was
the scariest part. He was right on
the edge of freezin’ to death or
fallin’ and I knew I was runnin’
out of time. Fortunately, I’ve done
a little writin’ myself; nothin’
good, mind you; just enough to
pick up some of the jargon and
sound convincing. Also, I had read
all the books in the cat burglar series. After the author’s fist book
made the Times Best Seller List,
people startin’ askin’ if I was the
writer, what with me havin’ the
same name and all. So, I decided
to read the book. Fortunately for
Mr. Johnson, I liked it so much I
read all the others as they came
out. Once he was convinced I really was the famous writer, he accepted that I might be able to help
him and agreed to come down.”
Captain Terrence finished his
writing, closed the folder, and
looked at the Officer sitting across
the table with a new respect.
Checking his wristwatch, he said:
“Go home, O’Malley; it’s late
and you put in one hell of a night’s
work. And look, it’s still Christmas Eve; we finally get to spend
on with our families.”
Officer O’Malley pushed back
his chair and turned to leave the
room.
“Not me, sir; I’m divorced, remember? My ex has the kids until
after New Years. I think I’ll settle
JULY 28, 2010
in with some Irish coffee and a good mystery novel. I might even read book one in
that cat burglar series again, ‘The Blue Eyed
Screamer’; that one was a real cliff hanger.”
Harry Foster retired as an Allstate Insurance agent in 2000 and spent most of his
early retirement traveling, horseback riding, and skiing with his wife, as well as
playing and teaching pool/billiards. He decided to try writing as a more cerebral outlet about two years ago and has found it to
be challenging and enjoyable. He lives in
Ewing.
Your Most
Ardent Admirer
D
by Nikki Stern
EAREST CHARLES:
I’m writing this missive, not precisely
under duress although I don’t see how I
could have refused the nice young man who
made the request. After all, he was kind
enough to bring me what he believed was a
proper cup of tea, in a ceramic mug and
though I might have preferred Earl Grey
with real, not powdered milk, I would not
begrudge such small kindnesses. The tea is
warm, which is welcome in this somewhat
chilly room. I have on the beige cardigan I
knit last year for Eunice but ended up keeping because of the dropped stitch. It’s practical, although a little dull. My late husband
always preferred to see me wear more color;
he used to buy me the loveliest scarves. I
must say although I am alone in this chilly
room, I prefer writing to engaging in conversation with the young man’s partner, an
ill-tempered, overbearing woman whose
bullying was beginning to upset me. I’m
afraid I began to insist I be allowed to get
home. I didn’t wish to be obstreperous but I
am a bit cranky, as I’ve missed lunch. I hope
you can read this, by the way, as I am not
using my favorite fountain pen. I always
carry it in my handbag, which has been taken from me. You may recall admiring the
pen at the book signing last month; in fact I
was in the middle of recounting to you how
it had come to me through my mother’s uncle back when we were all living in Tarrytown, when that disagreeable security guard
practically pushed me out of the line. It was
most discourteous, although I appreciate
your calling out to me to take care.
One other thing, Charles: I asked that
they call you, which they apparently did not
do, explaining that you were otherwise oc-
cupied. I thought that perhaps your presence
would help clear up this matter and I could
get home to poor Octavius. I realize you are
very busy and I wouldn’t dream of intruding, just as that wasn’t my intention when I
arrived at your house this afternoon. It’s a
lovely house, by the way. When I was a girl,
we lived in a wonderful house by the river,
until we had to relocate following the contretemps after I left a plate of supposedly
tainted chocolate cookies for the wife of my
favorite English professor.
Well, that’s in the past and I am not one
to dwell on what the young people call ancient history. I was fortunate enough to secure a teaching position following college
in Manhattan and even more fortunate to
have met and married such a successful
man, especially after the foolish over-reaction by one of the student’s parents to my
interest in her daughter’s talent as a writer.
Well, as my late husband, may he rest in
peace, always used to emphasize, “let bygones be bygones. Not very original and he
tended to overemphasize things, but I tried
— I really tried — not to let his occasional
tirades bother me and I daresay I almost
succeeded.
It was in your fifth novel — or was it
your fourth? — that your narrator propose
that we sit and talk and open our hearts to
those “whose very love and loyalty stand
ever at the ready” (I may be paraphrasing), a
suggestion I took to be an acknowledgement of those who have stood by you since
the release of your first novel, who have
walked with you as you traveled your
unique path towards fame, fortune and critical acclaim. How proud and privileged I am
to have been a part of that journey.
So that when I awoke on this glorious autumn day, I was overcome with joy and a
desire to see you again in more contemplative surroundings than a mid-town bookstore. I was also looking forward to driving
up the Saw Mill Parkway in the adorable little BMW convertible I “borrowed” from my
landlord. Incidentally, it looks well in your
particular neighborhood; I doubt you noticed it parked across the street all these
months and I admit I hadn’t heretofore indicated my presence. I had thought a nice visit, timed to coincide with your afternoon
writing break, would give us time to chat
briefly about your new book. So you can
Every Medicine
Commercial You’ve
Ever Heard on TV
A
by Marvin H. Cheiten
nnouncer: How many times have
you been tormented by the curse of
split cuticles?
Woman (looks down at the cuticles on
her right hand and mutters): My cuticles,
they’re split! What can I do about it?
Announcer: For centuries, even millennia, the answer was nothing. There was
nothing you could do to avoid those ugly,
painful, revolting split cuticles.
But now there’s Cute-o-blast, the miracle pill that heals split cuticles and makes
your hands look like new — the way they
looked when you were thirty, twenty, ten,
or even when you were a fetus. Taken four
times a day, every day for a decade and a
half, Cute-o-blast restores the youthful,
healthy look that your husband, wife, or
civil partner expects from a with-it, onthe-go kind of person like you.
(In a more serious voice): Cute-o-blast
isn’t for everyone. Common side effects
are: indigestion, constipation, diarrhea,
stiff joints, muscle cramps, trouble eating,
understand that I was rather disturbed to
discover your wife at home as she normally
plays tennis Thursdays, part of her efforts to
keep trim, although I don’t favor that sort of
ropy look all too common in women of a
certain age and social status. And yes, I was
quite distraught to find your daughter in her
room doing whatever pre-teenagers do, instead of rehearsing for “The Seagull,”
which I think is a bit ambitious for a junior
high school production, don’t you agree?
In fact, I had absolutely no idea you had
scheduled an impromptu vacation at your
cabin upstate; it was not in your date book,
nor did your housekeeper know when we
talked earlier this week. Really, Charles,
you must let people know about changes to
your schedule. I cannot emphasize enough
I had thought a nice visit, coinciding with your afternoon writing
break, would give us time to chat about your new book. So you can
understand I was rather disturbed to discover your wife at home.
U.S. 1
trouble sleeping, trouble breathing, or
trouble remembering where you live or
what your name is.
Other side effects may include falling
arches, falling hair, falling earlobes, reduced sexual appetite, reduced hearing, reduced vision, palpitations, heat prostrations, menstruations, eviscerations, and
League of Nations, plus nausea, vomiting,
and, on rare occasions, transmutation into
a zebra.
If you experience any of these symptoms, consult your doctor at once.
Remember: if split cuticles are the bane
of your love life and the ruination of your
very existence, Cute-o-blast is for you.
Taken four times a day, every day for a
decade and a half, and provided that you
don’t die or turn into a vegetable with an
IQ of -3, Cute-o-blast is the perfect medicine for you.
Cute-o-blast: an FDA-approved distillate from the British Petroleum Company.
(In a much lower voice): Cute-o-blast is
not available along the Gulf Coast.
A Princeton resident, Cheiten has contributed plays, short stories and poems to
the U.S. 1 Summer Fiction issue. His romantic comedy, “Miss Connections,” was
produced in June at the Off-Broadstreet
Theater in Hopewell. Another Cheiten
play, “Oh Deer,” will be staged at Theatre
Intime August 20-22 and 27-29.
how very distressing it is to have one’s
plans turned upside down, torn to shreds,
ripped and stomped and strewn about as if
they were nothing more than flotsam and
jetsam!
I regret that we were not able sit down together; they would not allow me to call to
you as I was being led away. I hope you will
forgive the disarray, but be assured that a
solution of club soda and vinegar, followed
by cold water, should remove the majority
of the stains on the carpet and walls.
Ah, here’s my nice young man, without
my purse, I’m afraid; but hopefully with one
of the cookies I had baked in anticipation of
our tea together. After my exertions, I find
myself a bit peckish.
Ever your dearest friend and ardent fan,
PENELOPE
Nikki Stern is a writer who blogs regularly at www.1womansvu. Her new book
“Because I Say So: The Dangerous Appeal
of Moral Authority,” was released in May
and is available online at Amazon and
Barnes and Noble and also at Labyrinth
Books in Princeton.
Labyrinth Books & U.S. 1 are pleased to host
THE U.S. 1 SUMMER FICTION ISSUE
RECEPTION & PUBLICATION PARTY
Thursday, August 12, 5-7:30 p.m.
Labyrinth Books • 122 Nassau Street, Princeton
U.S. 1 and Labyrinth Books welcome
the Princeton community to this annual celebration.
Writers will read from their works beginning at around 5:45 p.m.
Questions? Call 609-452-7000.
25
26
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
See Me
T
by John Symons
his was told me by a friend
of mine who’s neither reliable in his understanding of
human motivation nor a good
judge of a story, a Mr. Pars by
name (it’s unlikely that you know
him), who pressed it upon me as
being the sort of story I would
like, universal in scope and application, and encouraged me to put
it in a form more intelligible than
the one he related it to me in and
make it known. The result of my
compliance begins here. The
source, according to Mr. Pars, was
an acquaintance of his called Pinfeather, but I don’t see how that’s
possible.
Austin Pinfeather, in the opinion of Mr. Pars, was in most respects an ordinary young fellow,
but perhaps not ordinary enough
for happiness in the world as
presently constituted. At the time
of the events narrated here, Pinfeather was not yet 22 and recently
graduated from a well-regarded
college. A catalogue raisonne of
his opinions would not differ appreciably from those of millions of
others molded in similar institutions throughout the world. He had
acquired, or thought he had acquired, from his tutors the certain
knowledge that life was pointless
and that therefore it was not unreasonable to insist upon those perfections that it otherwise was unreasonable to expect (or something near to that: I may have
muddled this a bit).
In fact, Pinfeather was not far
into the education process when
he became convinced on his own
of this truth, and though he believed the world a chaos, he considered its main features to have
been satisfactorily explained by
the dominant authorities. You
could, accordingly, by and large
dispense with ordinary experience, or leapfrog over it, as it
were, while holding on to the
knowledge whole lifetimes of living could never supply.
In Pinfeather’s most recent
thinking, to cite a few examples
(provided by Mr. Pars), the universe should have low ceilings to
prevent useless expenditures on
space exploration and fanciful
speculations about alien intelligences. In this scheme, our planet
would be enlarged to reflect the
importance its inhabitants assign
to their activities and purposes. All
the rest would be ignored as a distraction, or freeze-dried and dispersed into the ether (science was
never his strong suit). And no one
would be required to begin work
until they had attained the age of
retirement!
Mr. Pars, oddly enough,
seemed to admire these ideas, particularly the last; and that made it
all the more difficult for him to account for Pinfeather’s lapses.
Mr. Pars gives an interesting
and compelling example of Pinfeather’s supremely confident personality and unshakeable consciousness of his own worth that it
will be useful to repeat here.
One day, quite recent as it turns
out, Pinfeather returned from luncheon with several of his new colleagues — Barker, Brayer, and
Mew, he called them (but their
names hardly matter, as they do
not figure in this story) — and a
young woman (her name is of no
consequence either; it is enough to
say the others knew about her but
said nothing, and Pinfeather was
indifferent whether they knew or
not).
Pinfeather had drunk more than
he usually did and had let go of
himself; he became moderately
boisterous and, by his own reckoning, attained briefly to a state of
glorious intuition wherein he
glimpsed the answer to everything, and then lost it again an instant afterward. The divine afflatus quite gone, Pinfeather managed to retain only the privileged
feeling of having possessed it (the
gnosis) and worked silently to fix
the feeling in his memory, while
the others, completely unaware,
chattered about the lowering skies
and whether their hour would be
up soon enough to see them safely
back in the office before the storm.
By the time he parted from the
others and entered his cubicle —
the four gray walls and bit of seat
fabric where he was stationed —
Pinfeather hoped to settle into a
relative anonymity and ponder
why chance had granted him an
important insight only to expunge
it without a trace, leaving him at
once elect and bereft.
And yet chance, while Pinfeather had been lunching and working
out one problem, had authored
him another.
B
efore he could lower himself
into place, Pinfeather noticed
something flat and white lying on
his seat. It hadn’t been there when
he left an hour or so before, what
was the reason for its being there
now? It was plainly a document of
some kind. He bent over to inspect
it. He picked up, drew it near to his
face, and looked it carefully up
and down. “See me!” it said,
across the top, in bold script. See
who? he thought. Neither the hand
nor the document itself gave any
clue to its origin. The text proper
He had ... cavorted in
the tunnel, climbed up
and down the stairs, had
a narrow escape on the
floor above; but he had
not solved the mystery
of the document.
seemed to speak of incomprehensible things in an elevated style.
Here was a puzzle; and Pinfeather,
not easily knocked off his course,
dithered. He threw the thing down
and came near to tearing across
once or twice. He looked upon it
with enmity, with rancor. Mr. Pars
speculates that this is because Pinfeather, being only a few months
on the job, didn’t want to admit his
ignorance to his colleagues, or report to the wrong superior. I wonder, too, if he didn’t suspect that
his new colleagues had played him
a trick, as a sort of initiation, to
test his mettle. Whatever it was, it
seemed the thing now raised in
him a kind of dread. It was an outrage! It was none of his affair! He
was already bored to death with
this arrangement even before the
document had arrived! And so on.
Pinfeather rose slightly and
looked cautiously over the cubicles. No one was looking in his direction; no sound of conspiracy
was to be heard; no mirth detectable. He might just take a moment to step out for a while and
clear his head, give a freer reign to
his thinking.
How there are many ways a
young man might exit from his cubicle, too many to enumerate here,
though Mr. Pars reports that a professor in California may be working on a compilation. Pinfeather’s
method on this occasion was to exit at full speed, just as if he knew
where he was going and hadn’t a
moment to spare. At the office
door, he had the presence of mind
to turn and display a certain gravity of mien before escaping into the
corridor.
Pinfeather held the document
up to hide his face from view, in
order to make himself difficult to
identify, and set off down the hall-
way with an affected sprightliness.
Before long, people he didn’t want
to be seen by began to approach
from the other direction, so Pinfeather quickly disappeared down
a flight of stairs into a subterranean tunnel linking his building
to another. (Please note that Mr.
Pars insists there is no allegorical
intent to this passage.) Pinfeather
swung down the stairwell, grasping the handrails, while holding
the loathsome document in his
mouth.
The door at the bottom closed
behind him and Pinfeather was
alone. (Again, Mr. Pars insists upon disrupting our expectations: it
was bright down there in the tunnel, not sepulchral: there were
plenty of ceiling lamps and above
them ran cheery lengths of white
pipe and conduit.)
To understand Pinfeather better
it is helpful to observe how he
made use of his time and freedom
in the tunnel. First, he walked
rapidly from the door at one end
500 feet to the door at the other;
then he repeated this route running
at top speed, several times over;
then he skipped one way and
hopped the other; then he threw
his document in the air and caught
it on the run; he shouted; he spun
about; he mixed these moves randomly and laughed quite a bit out
loud. Mr. Pars speculates that Pinfeather would as readily have
golfed or bicycled or sailed a sloop
had the conditions been favorable.
The more incongruous and diverting the behavior, he says, the more
gratifying it was to Pinfeather.
But then, at the very height of
his activities (is this not always the
way?) a woman of a certain age
entered the tunnel just as Pinfeather was bounding and laughing his
best, with maximum unrestraint.
Then Pinfeather, almost without
thinking, while leaping high above
her head, greeted her with a dreadfully impudent expression, and
then made his way through the
door and quickly upstairs. Mr.
Pars lays stress here on Pinfeather’s unwillingness to suffer a distraction, whereas I remind him
that Pinfeather had been caught
out making a fool of himself though all of this business is of little importance except to round out
the exposition.
Pinfeather decided to continue
on the stairs until he reached the
top floor, in order to delay his return. He entered the corridor there
and saw that it was in most respects identical to the one below,
where his office lay. Resuming the
pretense that he was on a mission,
he lifted his document and started
off. But he was not more than a
third of the way down when the
sight of something entirely unexpected arrested him.
He saw in a fleeting electric instant a vision of a slender girl
modestly costumed, giving out under the force of her presence and
momentum a pull of gravity rival
to his own. It seemed to him, almost before he was conscious of
her, that he she must be peered at
warily, through half-closed eyes,
through the fringes of his eyelashes, as if toward a light (or a danger, I suppose you might think).
But the lights, Mr. Pars says, were
the usual lights, and from the open
office doors came more such light,
and from beyond, a glimpse of
dimming sky, where the air was of
a peculiar pink and full of tension
The distance between Pinfeather and the girl began to close
quickly.
She is looking down, he thinks,
because she has lost something,
but comes forward without breaking stride and glances upward
pleasantly; the corridor seems
filled with her presence. (This is
all romantic nonsense to Mr. Pars,
but I’m inclined to attribute her
magnetism to an unpretentious
modesty of being, if I may phrase
it like that.) But Pinfeather meanwhile is struggling to treat her as if
he sees nothing out of the ordinary. He doesn’t want her to notice his interest, should he discover that he has any, because he
thinks it will please her. Yet if he
had glimpsed her in a crowd, at a
distance, on some concourse or
thoroughfare, he would have run
to see her closer up.
It may be that she says something to him as they pass, a mere
breath, soft, lyrical, lilting that is
perhaps her hello, her greeting;
even that she pauses as if for an
answer; but he will not in any case
find suitable words to give one.
And when they are abreast, Pinfeather, still affecting indifference, can no longer prevent his
eyes from looking at her: her dress
bright red, her hair nearly black,
her eyes dark under brows almost
quizzical, or full of wonder and
good will, her lips turned up gently at the corners as with a readiness to smile. Pinfeather receives
all this in an instant (as I remember Mr. Pars has indicated), but
with barely a nod, plowing on as
before with a fierce display unconcern.
He did not look back until there
was little chance she would notice.
(Mr. Pars told me that he, Mr.
Pars, searched his memory for a
suitable parallel in literature to underscore the implausibility of Pinfeather’s behavior, but none came
to him — or to me either, for that
matter.)
Pinfeather, after his own fashion, had already begun to brood on
the affair as he made his way to
the staircase that would take him
down to the place where he had
begun. He considered that he was
fortunate to have passed the test leaping smartly, as he had done,
over a bit of by-the-way experience. It was as if the girl, and others like her, in the loneliness and
insignificance of existence could
find nothing better to set against
the babbling indifference of the
universe, though admittedly to
form an alliance with such a girl
(and isn’t that what she would prefer?) would likely rattle the new
polity. It was all too retrograde to
the world’s new purpose, an event
misplaced in time. Best to view it
as a mischance, an anomaly in the
ineluctable movement of causes,
here neatly disarmed and brushed
aside with his lone unspoken
negation.
And with that, Pinfeather
reached the door to the stairwell
and started down, and we (Mr.
Pars and I) pass another of the
turning points of our story.
On the way down, Pinfeather
wondered with heavy heart if he
might share in the triumph of Sisyphus. A muted thunderclap punctuated his thoughts, announcing
the arrival of the storm. Some moments later he came to the door to
his office.
He had been away for twenty
minutes or so, had cavorted in the
tunnel, had climbed up and down
the stairs, had had a narrow escape
on the floor above; but he had not
solved the mystery of the document.
After an interval of some
length, Pinfeather pushed open the
door and re-entered his office and
his cubicle.
He settled slowly into his seat
and resumed his brooding. He
vowed then and there that in the
world to come, no one would issue
him peremptory commands, for no
one would be superior to him by
contrivance as no one was in fact.
Until then, he would accept that he
had no chance of happiness, and
no right to pretend that he had.
Pleasures alone might be his
where he found them.
Appropriately enough, the office seemed to have grown dark,
though all the fixtures were burning. (This is an instance of the pathetic fallacy, I am told.)
There was a hum of talk. Something unusual had come up. Perhaps the storm; perhaps his absence had been noticed. Pinfeather
rose from his seat and saw a commotion at the windows. The entire
staff, it seemed, had gathered.
There was a rising excitement.
Pinfeather looked beyond them.
The storm had begun to rage. The
wind was driving sheets of rain up
and down the avenue, bending
trees and branches, dousing the
great panes of the windows with
cascades of water, hurtling leaves
and twigs. (Who has not seen
this?) Then the tattoo on the windows let up as deep thunder reverberated through the building. And
then the cycle began again.
Pinfeather watched impassively, flinching only at the brighter
flashes of lightning. It seemed to
him (according to Mr. Pars) that
the curious thing was how uneasily his colleagues stood, as if
watching themselves watching the
storm and wondering what their
motives might be. (I don’t know
about that; I think it more probable
they were momentarily unaware
of themselves, though I have no
reason to think it — except that
I’m the author.) Immune to the
storm’s enchantments, Pinfeather
was at liberty to imagine the others
breaking into a dance, like a field
of peasants in a festival. For here
in small was the imagined
grandeur of existence, the unmanageable profusion of life, of the
myriad individual wills acting in
the world, and “the huge army of
the world’s desires.” Pinfeather
steeled himself against the illusion, who would have said with
Baron d’Holbach, had he known
or remembered to, that the storm
was mere “matter and motion.”
And when the storm began to
pass, the others little by little,
found their way back to their cubicles, still talking unguardedly,
murmuring happy child-like
things, complaining perhaps that it
didn’t last longer. Was one of
these his betrayer? Pinfeather
thought he would interview them,
chiefly about the document; but
instead he sat and brooded on his
chances and the inconclusiveness
of things.
A
nd so the story ends here, according to Mr. Pars, who provides us with an anecdotal acquaintance with Pinfeather, with
small insight into his character and
plight, and simply stops, leaving
the rest to our overtaxed imaginations.
In my opinion, this speaks to a
miscalculation in his discursive
practices. Simply put, he ought to
have begun later. Pinfeather’s
rudeness to a woman who did him
no injury is of little consequence;
the snubbing of the friendly girl,
though nicely handled and welljudged in its particulars, does not
lead to anything like the interesting developments readers are on
the lookout for; the condescension
to the flock at the window is mere
filler. Only the storm itself seems
to make a point; namely, that Pinfeather’s emotions are in turmoil:
they rise to a pitch, then later subside. It would be good to start
there and show how as bad weather lifts Pinfeather finds his way
home.
Still, Mr. Pars can scarcely have
intended us to draw large meanings; only, given the sovereignty
of the reader in our times, neither
he nor I can prevent you from doing so.
John Symons is one of the readers for the summer fiction issue.
He lives in Pennington and also is
a deliverer for U.S. 1.
JULY 28, 2010
Gardens
of Long Ago
A
by Rebecca Burr
job as companion to Mrs.
Longworth was just right.
Spring of that year rained
biblically and flowers were on a
rampage. The blossoms and fragrant air were a bountiful cruelty
appearing in her own picture of
sorrowful endings. Leah was jealous of bees. For seven months she
was in love and April is such a
very hard time to lose that, and for
18 it is the first and last. Sadie
Longworth was 91, on the dying
end of life, and Leah was comforted to be near that mystery. Their
conversations were timeless
things. On sunny days Leah
wheeled her out into the gardens
of a nursing home in Princeton.
Mrs. Longworth, though in a
wheelchair, seemed to take these
outings as exercise. And though
she was blind, always knew the
places where she wanted to pull
over and chat.
They talked of the days before
automobiles as they listened to the
traffic on Magnolia Lane outside
the gates, and of the clip-clop of
horses on hard-packed dirt roads.
They spoke of her school days in
the first decade of the 20th century, of her long stockings and high
buttoning shoes. Leah described
the colorful Pappagallo loafers
and gold bangles that girls were
wearing in 1969. And the miniskirts which allowed light into the
shady avenues where boys would
like to travel. Mrs. Longworth was
in no way scandalized and talked
of the rising hemlines of the 1920s
that preceded the stock market
crash in 1929. Of course, she said,
with a little remorse, that she had
missed out on that sexual revolution as well as the present one.
This kind of reverie would be followed by long silences in which
Sadie and Leah both spent some
tranquil time with regret.
On rainy days they stayed inside and Leah read to her from
books. Books that Sadie knew
well and never tired of hearing
again. From Aristotle to Virginia
Woolf. She listened to Chopin and
Brahms on a portable record player, and micro-danced, tapping
with her mid-heeled black leather
tie-up shoes to jitterbug and Benny Goodman swing, and transporting totally with the old turn of the
century pop songs like, “Daisy,
Daisy, give me your answer, do.”
and “Believe me if all those endearing young charms, which I
gaze on so fondly today,” back in
the arms of her young man, her
husband, in the presence of their
gay young friends. Leah knew
that’s where she went because afterward Sadie would speak of her
young husband and carefree time
with her friends. On rainy days
Leah poured tea for Sadie in her
room scented with dusting powder
and rain and drenched earth from
the open window.
B
obby Graziano found out
where she worked, as he
found out everything about her.
He began showing up in the garden. He just kept showing up
when she was in the garden with
Mrs. Longworth. Conversations
were not as interesting for Leah
when he was there. Mrs. Longworth, always genteel, would encourage him to talk about himself.
He, too, was polite and got Sadie
talking and reminiscing. At those
times he would look at Leah with a
grin that said, “You see what I
did?” And, of course, she did.
Bobby was Italian from one of
those families that populates
whole towns and then owns them.
At 23 he had some kind of job that
Woodstock Days
left him very free –– a family business. He was the second short guy
she’d gone out with. She liked that
about him. The other was Danny
Soloman whom she had invited to
her confirmation dance. Soloman
read the dictionary recreationally.
Bobby was no scholarly type, but
he was curious about a lot of
things, which led him into libraries
with a desire to learn about things
she knew. Not exactly in order to
impress, but in order to communicate on many levels.
He had found out, through mutual acquaintances, who was causing her present heartache and went
to see him on a friendly, investigative visit. He infiltrated a University radical political group whose
members Jerry got high with. Bobby never mentioned Leah. He just
went to a few meetings of the
SDS, smoked with them, saw Jerry, and that was all, because those
were not Bobby’s kind of people.
People were bathing
and hydrating like a
third world country. A
garden of children. So
many of them. She was,
over time and immersion, losing the outlines
between herself and the
others. All of them.
He smelled of Brut cologne, they
smelled of Marx and Engels. His
blue jeans were dry cleaned and
pressed, theirs were well slept in.
He drove a red convertible MG,
they took trains home to Bala Cynwyd, Shaker Heights, and Grosse
Pointe. He wore a gold cross at his
neck, they wore the peace symbol.
Leah did her homework as well.
It was a Midsummer Night’s
Dream, Love Potion Number 9,
Magical Mystery Tour, for someone else was in love with Bobby.
She was a Trenton girl who went
way back with him, a girl from the
Burg. Kind of looked like Cher
when she was with Sonny. A
Cleopatra with straight dark hair
and bangs. Really pretty. “Lord,
what fools these mortals be.”
The garden of ornate wrought
iron benches in secret alcoves with
vine-covered walls and fountains
trickling over marble statues was
reminiscent of a time and place
when courting included a chaperone. Who, in this menage was the
chaperone was unclear. Bobby
had a way of bringing out some
old relic of seductiveness that Mrs.
Longworth surely had a lot of at
one time. The tinge of jealousy
Leah felt was actually reassuring.
And though his and Sadie’s flirtation was a passing delight, it
seemed that Bobby was giving
Sadie a great gift which made
Leah like him more than she wanted to.
They strolled among the white
and pink dogwoods. Sadie’s long
fingers tapped out a rhythm during
lulls in the conversation which
Leah realized marked the quickness of her mind and she felt genuinely sad that it was not Mrs.
Longworth that Bobby wanted.
Wise birds and moist blossoms
communicated their messages on
sweet, sticky breezes that caught
in her throat.
B
obby gave her a solid gold
bracelet for graduation. Her
parents gave her a clock radio. Her
brother gave her a phone call from
Denver — one of the acceptably
cool places to choose for college.
In July, astronauts Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, and Buzz
Aldrin went to the moon. “One
small step for man, one giant leap
for mankind.” Leah was right
there with them. Senator Ted
Kennedy took a wrong turn that
summer on Chappaquiddick Island. Toward the end of July, there
were rumblings on the street about
an outdoor music festival in
Woodstock, New York.
P
re-dawn upstate New York
was chilly with fog on that Saturday, August 16. Traffic stood
still, a deadened, noiseless stoppage. Trees stood clueless alongside the road. Larry Cohen, a
friend since grade school, stood on
top of his mother’s sedan to scan
the distance. Leah climbed up after him and saw the line of cars to
the horizon. Cars as though
parked, on northbound Route 17.
No egress, no movement seemed
possible. Local radio news reported it the same way the national
news reported the Viet Nam war.
There was talk about bringing in
the National Guard. From that quiet spot on the road, things appeared to be magnificently out of
control. Word came down the
highway after an hour to park
close to the trees and walk. How
far? “Don’t know, maybe four
miles,” said the arm-banded
young Hippie.
Leah and Larry and Ben Cohen
gathered up the cooler and other
provisions, locked the car, and set
out. The morning fog heated up
without much dissipating. Her
long curly black hair curled up
even more and drizzled down her
face. Thousands of gnats became
involved. With each mile, the
progress thickened with souls
coming up from behind. Youth aggregating. Bronzed, unshirted
boys with dark golden curls falling
to their shoulders. Bearded young
men in fringed leather vests. Slender girls with long flat sheets of
shiny brown hair. Blacks with
Afros and Jews who gave up on
their hair and went natural. Male
and female, with Afros, headbands, and bellbottoms. Did Hendrix precede or follow? And
young parents who had made the
unfashionable commitment to
marriage.
Reefer smoke hung with the
fog.
When they arrived at the gate,
there was no gate. So they didn’t
know whether they could enter.
There was not even a fence. Some
posts lingered, some crushed fencing material lay about. Some folks
warily crossed the dotted line.
Leah and the Cohen brothers went
in search of someone marked with
authority, but were swept in the
surging mass of people from behind and a farm truck urgently
pushing forward, so they had no
choice but to proceed, and when
they came to a breathing space,
they beheld the multitudes. An ancient gathering in the here and
now. Farmish fragrances all about
on Mr. Yasgur’s farm.
Five inches of rain had reportedly fallen during the night. People were just beginning to wake
up. There was sleepy movement in
the plains below. Sun was burning
through. Smoke rose from food
wagons — but how would those
few feed so many?
This was a loaves-and-fishes
scenario — or a really large deli
order. Leah heard on the radio that
a local synagogue had sent hundreds of sandwiches and pickles
the day before. It was already sort
of a crisis. Leah had only brought
one sandwich.
They walked down into the
bowl of land toward the main
stage looking for a space to set up
on the muddy slope, checking out
the various neighborhoods already
established, of ponchos and plastic
tablecloth tents against the torrential rains of last night, only muddy
legs and sandaled feet in evidence,
occasionally a weary eye or smiling face. The offer of a joint finally determined their encampment.
“Hey, what’s happenin’?” “Not
much, how ya doin’?” The three of
them dropped their blankets and
gratefully accepted the largesse of
a couple from somewhere in the
Delaware Valley by their accents.
They all smoked a while, regarding one another appreciatively
without words. Taking in the vibes
and letting it happen. That’s how it
was. Leah looked out and beyond
her personal fog. Thousands of
people just like themselves, yet
not them, acres and acres of young
people, enjoying and enduring the
freedom and confines of the unknown. Leah felt so undifferentiated. Blended, yet, disappointingly, herself. Insignificant — why?
The sound system crackled, signaling the opening of the day.
“Good mornin’ everybody.” A
bedraggled Festival hand on the
stage geared up for announcements of one kind and another. “I
trust everybody’s dry and rested
and ready to go . Well, maybe
dry.” A scattered rumble from the
slope. “Okay, rested. Well, ready
U.S. 1
27
to go, anyway.” He rattled a sheaf
of notes. “Lola. Call home. Your
parents are wondering if you made
it, Brian, you’ve become a father
overnight. You can go and meet
your family at the nurse’s tent by
the main stage. Congratulations,
man.” A sort of “yo!” huzzah went
up from the hillside to welcome
the new life. “And anybody who
dropped the purple acid — don’t
worry!” He dropped each message
like a leaflet and went on.
“There’s something like breakfast
at the Hog Farm wagon while it
lasts. And remember to pick up the
trash around your area, be considerate of your neighbors, and keep
the faith.You’re beautiful. Peace.”
“Don’t worry, man, it wasn’t
the purple stuff, man.” A couple of
guys held onto their agitated
friend with soothing words.
Things seemed remarkably stable
in this volatile mecca.
Sun eventually popped the bubbles of haze causing the bowl of
teenagers to take on the aspect of a
great Petrie dish, at the temperature and moisture level best for
growing things. Musicians played
for each other in cool glens, and
people gathered around to listen
because they came for the music
and the mainstage would be quiet
until later in the day. People reverted to the gardens of childhood,
of invention. The places where unContinued on following page
Reflections on 1968
Burke’s Reflections were prescient,
and unforgivably true.
The French lost their heads
trying to “adjust” our fallen natures.
Vandalizing Rheims didn’t make men equal.
Hate and hysteria destroyed the souls of the sans culottes.
Finally, Bonaparte had to give them a dose of grapeshot:
a useful prescription for the fever of anarchy.
We live again in a time of self-righteous posturing;
heirs of ’68.
“Hey, hey, ho, ho — western civ. has got to go!”
“Power to the people!” “Off the pigs!”
Screeching suburbanites, sounding like a rusted iron door
pried open.
November ’69, high-water mark of the “movement.”
In Washington to end war and injustice.
The villain Nixon barricaded in the White House.
How pure we were! We would march and face danger.
On to the Vietnamese Embassy! (These were the bad gooks,
anti-communist Catholics and democrats).
Let them feel our wrath!
Our path blocked by the D.C. police —
the black working class.
A moment of hesitation, and then: “off the pigs!”
Molotov cocktails, burning police motorcycles;
fiery little folds of street clouds.
The patient blue-garbed response:
a steady drumbeat of batons on shields, a military advance;
disciplined, determined. Then came the gas.
It settled on us like interplanetary dust.
The vanguard defeated by the workers.
We scattered like mice, humiliated.
Luckily, our retreat led back to the Georgetown mansion.
Furnished with antiques, decorated by Picasso.
A true revolutionary headquarters.
The irony began to penetrate my tear-soaked head.
These privileged babes with their servants, their anger,
were having a tantrum; a generation of spoiled brats.
Their self-regard outweighed the burdens of history.
Burke would recognize this death of moral imagination,
the “rapacity, malice, revenge” of the post-Christian cults.
Far gone in utopian speculations,
the once rabid demonstrators are now running the madhouse.
— Jim Levell
Levell grew up in the Boston area and graduated from Northeastern University. After attending graduate school for a year he spent
two years teaching history and three years working in the National
Archives. After 23 years of travel, work, and living, Levell and his
wife have settled in Princeton.
28
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
seen forces entered into your games and you
knew the Fairies were present and all things
were possible. Indeed, many people were
seeing Unicorns that weekend, and shedding clothes to frolic with them in the lake
and shaded ponds. Even in the fields of free
living, Leah could not go naked into the water but longed to submerge and swim and be
refreshed, and so joined with the free spirits
as well as the horribly socialized and went
in dressed, into the larger, open water, kicking up sprays of sparkling silver in the sunlight.
People were soaping and bathing and hydrating like a third world country. A garden
of children. The newspapers would pick up
on that. Peers, fellow children. So many of
them. None she knew, yet all were somehow familiar. She was, over time and immersion, losing the outlines between herself
and the others. All of them.
She wandered among the people, mostly
on a hunger high. Her sandals had long ago
been squeegied away by the calf-deep mud.
A young, bearded businessman in a loin
cloth was selling cups of water for a dollar.
A drink of water would be sane, but her tote
bag with the 10 dollars she came with was
back with the boys. Where were the boys?
She knew roughly the coordinates. She
stepped over the people on the ground, who
were all very polite. It was unavoidable.
There were no aisles now. They were so
tightly arranged on Mr. Yasgur’s land, that
if they were a field of planted seeds, nothing
would have room to grow. She passed one
of the freak-out tents where LSD tripping
kids were brought gently back to Earth.
Everybody was looking like everybody she
had ever known. So when she caught a
glimpse of Bobby in the freak-out tent, quietly talking a wild-eyed, frantic boy out of
the ozone, she kept on going, said, “Nah,
not him, not here.” She peered again into the
dim, dank, musty, grassy, sun-streaked canvas cavern. Flies buzzed.
Bobby looked up. He wore a blue work
shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. He looked
drawn and tired. He welcomed her in with
his smile. Inside his gentle, all-encompassing gaze, she felt she had missed out on
something dreadfully large in life. That had
not to do with her, or with Bobby, or with
anyone in particular. It was all about what
she could do in any moment or situation.
And she realized then that she had had very
little experience in “being there.” All she
could call up at the moment were the gardens of Mrs. Longworth. “What can I do to
help?” she asked.
Burr graduated from Princeton High
School, worked as a news writer and photographer, construction worker, and
standup comedian, and started a small organic farm with the family. She presently
lives and works in Princeton. Her children
attend Princeton High School.
Changing
A
by Peter Brav
ndy Powell thought things might
have to change after the big argument at the library. He had misplaced the DVD of Richard Linklater’s
1991 classic “Slacker” for over a year —
how fitting he swore he heard the library
clerk with the lisp mutter — and he expressed shock, outrage, and disappointment,
in that order and all to no avail, at the
woman’s insistence in keeping the 40-dollar
lost fee on his account. Misplaced for more
than one year is deemed lost not late, she
told him, in his view with all the icy certitude of a serial killer passing judgment on
his hundredth victim.
He was not oblivious to the unfortunate
reality that costs were accelerating at an insane pace (all costs, for everything, with
even free samples of bourbon chicken at the
mall food court seeming smaller and with
decidedly less alcohol). His income of
course had remained stable near zero. And
he was all too aware from years of watching
Meathead’s wife that forty dollars could
still feed someone somewhere for a year.
Yet every seemingly simple matter of money was always at its heart a matter of principle and he was never shy about principle.
How incredibly arbitrary! What if the
Mormons in Salt Lake City who got their
daughter back from that lunatic after all
those years took that position?
If you’re referring to Elizabeth Smart, I
believe she was missing for only nine
months.
Only nine months?! And I suppose she
was merely late to you?! I additionally suppose that if Jim Morrison were to show up
here today and request your permission to
play an acoustic Light My Fire on the library’s front steps that you would casually
inform him, sorry, you’re lost?
Respectfully, Mr. Powell, this is the library’s policy.
Well, it is just such a discriminatory policy that fails to distinguish lost for more than
a year from lost for more than five years,
perhaps even lost forever!
He hated that word forever. It was scary
to him and inevitably started him in on the
rather difficult task of deciding if there was
a god and whether time travel would be
available to the average American in the 30
years he figured he had left without it. He so
regretted even mouthing the word now and
1969. That was the year for
change. Men walking on the
moon, a half million young
people at Max Yasgur’s farm.
And the eighth grader experiencing a different kind of
change would have another 10
years to figure out how to
avoid the 7 to 7 soul-sucking
ambush his father had wandered into.
was determined to fight back thoughts of
Mayan gods and Nietzsche while the lisp lady tapped her fingers on the checkout desk.
He wanted to ask for a supervisor — in similar stands by telephone he had learned to
keep hitting 0 and to immediately ask for
the grand supervisor of all supervisors —
but a prior supervisory encounter over an
ill-fated attempt to scalp his library-validated parking pass had made him nervous.
What the hell was a library anyway other
than a giant book club without coffee, middle-aged women and four or five people
who hadn’t had time to read the book but
came anyway? They should have thanked
him for all the books and movies he did return on time, even early on occasion, rather
than nail him for some 20-year-old film that
had found its way to the sixth dimension between his mattress and his box-spring. Didn’t they realize that anyone interested in
seeing Linklater’s masterpiece was perfectly content to wait till whenever came
around?
Fifty-five years of this. More than five
decades of logic, of earnest effort and good
intentions, and yet there she was, tapping
her fingers impatiently like there were more
than seven people on the line behind him.
Sorry Obama, this world was never going to
change. They sang songs about it, wrote poetry and long and short stories, all about the
world’s inability to change. Enough was
enough. Andy would have to take matters
into his own hands. He said good-bye, and
added good luck and have a nice day for
emphasis, and headed for the door. He tried
whistling on his way out but he had never
tried before and the Kander and Ebb song
quickly morphed into a silent trickle of saliva that ran down his shirt. No matter,
change wasn’t going to be easy, and he
would not be easily deterred.
He liked to blame whatever problems he
had on the fact that he was an only child. If
only he had been blessed with a younger
brother to beat up, or an older brother to be
beaten up by, he was sure things would have
been different. Loneliness did things to people. In his youth, he always believed that his
parents had engaged in detailed nightly discussions for years about a second child but
had been disheartened, something that didn’t do much for his confidence. Both of his
parents worked long hours, so he was raised
by Merv Griffin, Mike Douglas, and Dinah
Shore. He was the first and only kid he
knew to shout What’s Your Point? at
What’s My Line? He always wished he
knew a language so he could talk trash
about people to someone without anyone
knowing. And when he had discussed this
with Sara Goldfarb, his first almost girlfriend, and even tried to teach her part of a
language he himself created, she stopped
taking his calls and then had her younger
sister tell him she was in the shower
which seemed plausible the first 60 calls
but a bit strained after that.
He saw the FOR RENT sign above the
coffee shop and wondered if moving out
of the house he had inherited from his
folks would be necessary for real change.
Living above a successful coffee shop —
with hundreds of people grabbing a cup of
joe on their way to inventing new devices
to transmit OMG the older guy from the
health club with the four-pack who looks
like a cross between Ashton and the guy
who won Idol last year is sitting right next
to me...five feet away...should I invite him
to senior prom???? — that had to be the
closest thing to working other than actually working. He would revisit the idea later; change was good, too much change all
at once probably not so good.
There was a HELP WANTED sign in
the front window of the coffee shop. He
remembered how his father had brought
him into the New Brunswick office one
entire week that 1969 summer, showing
him off to the folks in the short-sleeved
white dress shirts and awesomely wide
ties, in those halcyon days before yet another idea was ruined by institutionalizing
it for one April day every year. 1969. That
was the year for change. Men walking on
the moon in July had been impressive
enough but so was a half million young
people at Max Yasgur’s farm in August
for nothing but three days of peace and
music. And in the fall, when Tom Seaver
and Tommie Agee took it from worst to
first, shocking the Baltimore Orioles, the
ticker tape parade through Manhattan on
Channel 9 that followed seemed to make
all change and all dreams possible.
Somehow, some way, body counts
from Asia on the seven o’clock news
would cease, black and white men would
learn how to get along, The Man would
grow old and die off. And the eighth grader
then experiencing a different kind of change
would have another 10 years to figure out
how to avoid the 7 to 7 soul-sucking ambush his father had wandered into.
That August, like always, his father had
been unmoved and not the kind of guy that
the man on his left and the man on his right
were, the kind who paid 15 cents for a black
coffee and a quarter for a buttered roll and
got to hear how ‘bout those Mets? from the
diner operator at the cash register. His father
had warned him to keep up from the moment they exited the warehouse parking lot
until he found his place at the extra desk in
his father’s small office, the one Andy never
thought of it as a desk, covered as it was
with rolled-up plans and papers marked Inter-Office Memo and blue mimeograph paper with ink that took three days to fade
from your fingers.
By the end of that week of show and tell
for his father — this is my son, Marvin, he
might be replacing you next week — he was
anxious to return to the relative tranquility
and hopefulness of middle school, despite
the gift of a slide rule he never did learn to
use from the big boss Schwinger. I should
have told Schwinger to screw off when I had
the chance (which along with your mother
and I used to cut quite the rug at Roseland
back in the forties before you were born
were his father’s two most commonly stated
memories later in life).
He stared back at the coffee shop sign,
thinking that maybe everyone should wear a
HELP WANTED sign as a necklace or
maybe some fancy t-shirt design. Coffee
shop worker was a real possibility but he
worried that any job which involved interfacing with the public would inevitably involve interfacing with the public. He knew
he could never tap his fingers with an air of
false patience like the lady at the library or
even more basically ask how can I help
you? when a customer arrived. Just who
would he have to be to think that he could
help anyone, whether to a spinach and egg
croissant and coffee from Sumatra or with
larger, more complicated issues? There was
too much arrogance to the question and any
of the other substitutes (welcome...are you a
member of our consistent customer
club?....who’s next on line?) that his new
employer might encourage.
He turned to walk back up the boulevard,
lost in thought. The best job he ever had, not
even close, was his few years as a professional line sitter. He had always loved lines,
loved the feeling that he was ahead of somebody, for something that somebody besides
himself actually wanted. And to actually be
Eddie Schwartz and I
Eddie Schwartz and I
Two seventh graders
Passing through summer
In an era when America
lost her innocence
’Nam and campus unrest
Going to the Moon
Unemployment, strikes
Stock market down, Woodstock
Talk of another Ice Age
Eddie and I were undaunted
We were not influenced
By the trials of the day
Two young bucks
looking for adventure
We fished, hiked
Drank ginger ale and birch beer
to Simon and Garfunkel’s “Cecilia”
Went to St. Veronica’s on Saturday,
then stayed up ’til one in the morning
My youth has gone to a finer place
It was spent on dollar store items
I remember its fragrance
A flavor lost to posterity
Like days spent with Eddie
Schwartz
— Jeff Varanyak
Varanyak is a scientific illustrator with
NOAA/GFDL and a member of the
Burlington County Poetry Society. He
notes: “I recently reconnected with Eddie
Schwartz after an absence of 40 years!”
paid for it, well that was almost too much
good fortune. Back in the ’90s, he’d made
pretty good money at motor vehicles, at the
bank, at the unemployment line (where he
could pick up his own check as well), but
technology had come along and his gravy
train of sturdy legs and extreme patience
was gone.
Thinking about jobs was almost as depressing as all of those thoughts he had
about careers decades ago. Talk about being trapped. He was an idea man, after all,
still spitting them out at quite a rapid pace
even as his body aged and he found himself
spending more time than ever staring at
birds and children in the park. Andy was
one guy who didn’t see the big deal about
executing on the ideas. Anybody could do
that. Lately he had been giving some serious
thought to Andy’s List, a website where people could go to muse. The world needed
more musing, that much he knew.
It had been a rich life and he liked to tell
himself as often as he would listen that he
was still young and his best days lay ahead.
He had written graphic novels for a while
that nobody read, thus missing out on his
superhero creation, Afterthought, a young
man bitten by his wife on his honeymoon
under a full moon who became invisible
most nights and weekends. He had created
an adjustable bra that nobody bought, thus
missing out on the possibility of going from
B cup to D cup and back again, all at the
same social function. And after studying religion, all of them, one by one, one year
fasting on every religion’s day of fast and
losing twenty unwanted pounds, he had created his own religion that nobody believed
in, thus missing out on the possibility of
eternal bliss and eternal damnation on alternating days of the week.
Changing was as tiring as ever. He hurried past the coffee shop towards the library.
With any luck, it would be back out on the
shelf. There it was, Linklater’s “Slacker,”
amazingly still available in the 30 minutes
he had taken to assess things. He eagerly
cradled the DVD in his hands and spotted
the lisp lady back at her perch. He smiled
and took his place on the line. He would
show her the true meaning of lost this time.
Brav, a Princeton resident since 1995, is
the author of “Sneaking In,” a young adult
novel about the 1999 Yankees championship season, and his newest, “The Other
Side of Losing,” a novel of friendship and
drama set during the next Chicago Cubs
championship season. To order the books,
go to Amazon or www.peterbrav.com
JULY 28, 2010
The Stray
by Michael Penncavage
E
velyn Crabtree was sitting
down with her afternoon tea
to watch her favorite soap
opera when she heard the unmistakable clicking of nails on the
wood floor above her.
Placing her tea down onto the
doily, she went to the phone and
dialed.
It rang twice. “Hello?”
“Leonard, do you have a dog up
there?”
“How are you doing, Evelyn?”
he answered in his normal cheery
voice. She hated young tenants.
Always bubbly. If Leonard hadn’t
been so timely with the rent
checks, she never would have let
him extend the lease.
“I heard the nails tapping on the
wood, Leonard. On the lease it
specifically states that no pets are
allowed.” Leonard was silent on
the other end. She felt victorious.
Leonard always played his music
loud and it was always an issue to
lower it. Each time she spoke to
him about it, Evelyn felt like she
was compromising. There would
be no compromise this time.
“He’s really a good dog, Evelyn. I found him over at the dump.
I think he might have been exposed to something there because
he really is smart.”
“I don’t care, Leonard!” She
snapped back at him. Evelyn shuddered to think what types of bugs
and diseases the animal had contracted at the dump. “You have
until tomorrow to bring it to the
pound.”
“If I bring him to the pound,
they are just going to put him to
sleep,” Leonard replied in a slightly louder voice.
Evelyn then found herself talking to the dial tone. I’ll give that
boy until noon tomorrow. She
picked up her tea. It had grown
cold. Putting it back down in disgust, she clicked the television on.
T
he program was just ending
when she heard Leonard leave
the house. Peering through the
blinds, she saw him walk to his
car, alone. Above her, she could
hear the nails making that infernal
noise. If that thing pisses on the
carpet, he’s never going to get his
security deposit back.
Getting up, she went into the
kitchen to fix herself a fresh cup of
tea. As the kettle was beginning to
tweet, she heard the faint sound of
water trickling down the pipes inside the wall. The toilet had been
flushed. Silencing the kettle, she
heard the click, click, click again.
Staring up at the ceiling, Evelyn
followed the noise until she was in
her dining room. Above her was
the kitchen. Again, she began to
hear the faint trickling of water.
Someone was using the kitchen
sink. A frown appeared on her
face. So, he had someone living up
there as well. It was also stated in
the lease that Leonard could not
sublet any of the apartment.
She decided that Leonard was
due another call when the ceiling
started to vibrate.
The radio had been turned on.
So loud was the music playing that
Evelyn could tell which Bruce
Springsteen song it was. “Born in
the USA.” She watched as a picture of her late husband, Earl, began shaking on the wall.
Grabbing the phone, she dialed
up the apartment. The phone rang
but no one picked it up. Slamming
the phone back onto the receiver,
she tried to keep her anger under
control. He doctor warned about
her high blood pressure. There
was no doubt that this wasn’t helping. She tried calling again, but to
no avail. Bruce had now given
way to “Piano Man.”
(Re)Incarnations
Grabbing the spare set of keys,
she strode out of the house and
around to the side, where the entrance was to Leonard’s.
She banged on the door and
rang the bell. No one answered.
Even from outside, she could hear
the thump, thump, thump of the
base.
Gripping the keys, she unlocked the door and went inside.
The stairs went up, then left,
and ended into a small vestibulelike room.
“Hello!” she shouted but her
voice was drowned out by the music. Walking into the living room,
she turned off the stereo. “Is anyone here?”
She heard the clicking again
and a dog emerged from the
kitchen. If not for the blackish tail,
she would have thought it a purebred golden retriever. The dog
looked clean and well groomed.
Probably carrying some sort of
junkyard disease.
“Sit.” She commanded. Immediately, the dog sat down.
“Lie down.” The dog placed his
chin between his paws.
“Play dead.” The dog rolled onto his back and stuck his paws up
in the air.
Leonard was right –– the dog
was well trained.
Evelyn began walking through
the apartment. She went into each
room, looked in every closet, and
even peered under the bed. She
checked the windows, but they
were all fastened shut. All the
while, the dog followed behind
her, his tongue hanging out the
side of his mouth like a slice of
baloney.
Walking back into the
vestibule, Evelyn placed her hands
on her hips in frustration. Where
was the person hiding?
A beep sounded in the kitchen.
Her curiosity piqued, she walked
towards it. The kitchen was the
only room she had not searched.
The microwave had gone off. A
familiar scent was permeating
from it. She opened the door and
found a warmed bag of popcorn.
Taking it out, she ripped the bag
open and popped several kernels
into her mouth. Ah, nice and
warm. Just how she liked it. It did
have a peculiar taste that Evelyn
Evelyn went into each room, looked in every closet, and even peered under the
bed. The dog followed behind her. Walking back into the vestibule, Evelyn placed
her hands on her hips in frustration. Where was the person hiding?
U.S. 1
29
simply dismissed as a new flavor.
Evelyn heard the click, click,
click again. The dog came into
view. Seeing her, he began to
growl. Evelyn was taken by this
behavior. “Scram!” she yelled, but
the dog didn’t move.
“Move it!”
The dog bared its teeth and
growled.
Evelyn’s temper flared. Placing
the bag down, she looked underneath the sink. Taking out a bottle
of floor cleaner, she walked over
to the dog’s water bowl. Pouring a
cap-full into the water, she stirred
it with her finger. Placing the bottle back, she grabbed her popcorn.
The dog had left the kitchen.
She was curious if the dog had
seen her do it. Not that it really
mattered. Eating another handful
of popcorn, she walked back
downstairs.
She was certainly going to give
Leonard an earful when he came
home.
F
rom the bedroom window, the
dog watched as Evelyn walked
outside and back into her apartment. Closing the shade, he went
back into the kitchen. From the
30
JULY 28, 2010
pantry he pulled out a fresh package of popcorn. Setting the microwave for three minutes on
High, the dog then took the water
bowl and dumped the contents into the sink. Making sure that it was
fully rinsed, he filled it back up
with fresh water. Stupid woman.
Even if she put the cleaner in when
I wasn’t looking, it was easy
enough to smell. If you’re going to
poison someone, you have to use
something harder to detect. Like
rat poison. Rat poison was easy to
mix with the food such as popcorn.
He took out a bottle of Bud
from the refrigerator. Using the
counter’s edge to pop the cap off,
it made a deep scrape in the finish.
Walking into the living room,
he turned the stereo back on.
“Amanda” by Boston was playing.
Not his favorite song, but it would
do. Placing a paw on the knob
marked volume, he raised it up.
The base was set so high that it began rattling one of the nearby window panes.
Not that it really mattered.
He didn’t expect anyone to call
complaining.
Michael Penncavage is employed at a Princeton-based national retailer. His story, “The
Cost of Doing Business” originally appeared in Thuglit, Issue 24
and won a 2008 Derringer Award
for best mystery. One of his stories
has recently been filmed as a short
movie. Fiction of his can be found
in approximately 60 magazines
and anthologies from three different countries such as Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine in the
USA, Here and Now in England,
Crime Factory in Australia.
Paper
Accordions
Z
by John Saccenti
eus had always been a ladies
man, catching the eye of
more than a few fair-haired
maidens during his life. It was
something he was known for and
something that got him into trouble more often than not.
But he was older now, and like
others who reach a certain level of
maturity, liked to think he was
wiser. But a string of broken
hearts, more changes of address
than he could remember, 10 aliases, and an incident he simply
called “the trouble with shotguns”
were more than enough proof that
you couldn’t teach an old dog new
tricks.
In other words, Zeus still had it
and he wasn’t afraid to show it.
He stood in front of the men’s
room mirror and dragged a comb
across the top of his head, trying to
arrange his once godlike tufts into
what kind of maybe on a good day
and in the right light might resemble a full head of hair. He counted
the wrinkles in his face and admired the way his scrawny body
hunched over just slightly. This
was Zeus, King of the Gods, and it
didn’t matter what he looked like,
just so long as it was a look that
worked for him.
He flashed himself a grin, the
grin that had won him countless
hearts, and turned to leave, the
rubber soles of his shoes squeaking as he slowly pushed open the
heavy bathroom door, and shuffled into the clubhouse.
Guests sat at long cafeteriastyle tables, each covered in bright
pink tablecloths and decorated
with folded paper centerpieces
that were supposed to resemble
flowers but looked more like
miniature paper accordions. It was
supposed to be a dance to celebrate Valentine’s Day –– “be
Mine,” and Cupid’s arrows, all
that –– but love appeared to have
taken a noontime nap, a sentiment
that most of the Sunny Mountain
Retirement Village seemed to be
sharing at the moment.
Frowning ladies in dresses,
each with a pretty carnation and
drinking from lipstick stained coffee cups, looked up as he entered.
Someone had put on the wrong
music and the women’s sour looks
could only mean that “Blitzkrieg
Bop” by the Ramones simply wasn’t their cup of tea. Zeus stepped
into the meeting room. He was
dressed, pressed and ready to go.
He was feeling good, and his blue
eyes scanned the room, piercing
the souls of everyone there.
“They look confused,” he said
to himself. “They don’t know
what to make of me. Figures.”
He snickered to himself and
with a sly, 3,000-year-old grin the
silver fox walked in.
“Sorry everyone,” said a voice,
apparently the DJ’s.
Silence broke out and Zeus
looked around confused, trying to
figure out where the music had
gone and who was speaking, before tripping into a large woman
wearing a red sequined sweatshirt
and blowing up balloons, strands
of which got loose and floated 20
feet to the ceiling where they
would begin a slow suffering that
wouldn’t likely end until sometime around Easter. Always one to
make the best of a bad situation,
Zeus’s face landed in the lady’s
bosom and his hand on her butt as
the two fell to the floor. Balloon
lady tried to get up, but Zeus was
on top of her, hands wandering
awkwardly, fluttering around in a
pretend effort to help her up. Several people jumped to the pair and
Zeus grabbed the women and
rolled once more, trying to get one
last feel, but also managing to
wrap his legs in the brightly colored ribbon the woman had been
using.
“The king strikes again,” he
said to himself.
“Whoa there Mr. Z,” said balloon lady. The “Z” here didn’t
stand for Zeus. No, here in the
Sunny Mountain Retirement Village, the “Z” stood for Zephyr.
Abercrombie Sneed Zephyr III.
Zeus had a lot of fun with names,
and with numbers.
Zeus, whose head had somehow migrated behind balloon lady’s knee, needed two volunteers
to pick him up while another tended to the clearly flustered and
more than slightly annoyed
woman.
“Sorry everyone, let’s try something different,” the DJ’s somewhere voice said, and after another
moment of dead silence the deep
brassy sound of a saxophone ––
made to sound like tin because of
the stereo’s small speakers ––
filled the room. Those who hadn’t
yet dozed off now threatened to do
just that.
Zeus looked to see where the
voice was coming from. Feeling
confident after his most recent
success (still ongoing if you
counted the volunteers still trying
to untangle him), Zeus put on his
heavily medicated-old-man-face
and sat upright. From across the
room he could see the ample backside of Cathy, a blonde staff nurse
in her 40s with a penchant for
wearing cartoon-themed scrubs.
Today’s episode: ponies surrounded by heart-shaped horseshoes.
Cathy stood and faced Zeus,
who turned a little sad inside when
her butt moved out of his line of
sight. She smiled at him for a second and Zeus felt that tingle that
told him what he would be doing
next, or a least, later, and with
whom he would be doing it. He
gave a dirty little grin back as his
helpers, who had given up trying
to untangle him, finished cutting
him free.
Zeus shuffled his way to one of
the long pink tables and was handed a piece of cake that was more
frosting than cake and a cup of
coffee almost too hot to touch.
Three blue-haired spinster sisters,
each a shriveled replica of the last,
sat nearby trying to pretend that
they weren’t excited he was near.
Zeus ignored them. He had his
sights set on a different prize this
time.
“Mr. Z?”
Zeus looked up pathetically,
cake hanging half off his dry,
cracked lips, his hair mussed and
his eyes confused. It was a look
he’d perfected.
“I saw you fall,” said Cathy,
wiping a curly tuft of hair from her
forehead. Zeus tried to make sure
that a lingering glance at her bosom went just a second too long.
Cathy blushed.
“Huh? ... I’ve fallen before. Do
you know I’m a veteran? World
War II. I was at Normandy. Not at
D-day, but I came in behind
them.” Zeus wasn’t shouting, but
he knew how to be loud enough to
be both annoying and endearing.
Cathy sat down beside him with
a piece of cake of her own. Zeus’s
fingers fumbled with a yellow paper napkin he’d grabbed from the
table. Here was a real catch, one
She couldn’t tell, but
she thought she saw Mr.
Z smile. She felt his
hand brush up against
her leg, giving her a tingle she had felt rarely
since she was a
teenager.
worth more than just a quick grab,
he thought, and one certainly
worth all the effort he’d put in.
“Yes, Mr. Z. I know. You’re a
veteran and so is my father. We’ve
talked about this before.” Cathy
had known the frail little man for a
few months. He was cute and
grumpy and handsome and charming and annoying, just like the rest
of the residents, just like her father
had been.
She remembered the first time
she’d met Mr. Z. She was a fulltime nurse at the center and had
found him wandering the halls in
his white bathrobe and talking at
the top of his lungs. She didn’t understand everything he was saying
at the time, a lot of it sounded like
made up words, but she remembered being struck at how commanding and imposing the little
man seemed, despite his confused
state. It was a trait she admired.
She’d spent more than a bit of
time with him since then, an easy
feat since she lived nearby and by
herself. At first the meetings were
nothing. A semi-planned, chance
run-in, or an extra visit to the clubhouse on the off chance that he
might be there were how it started.
Eventually she found herself
sneaking into his apartment from
time to time in order to check on
him, and the two ran into each other (sometimes literally) a few
times a week. Soon, it was as if
she couldn’t stay away from him,
and even though it may have been
wrong, Mr. Z made her feel special in a way she couldn’t explain,
and she liked that.
She watched as the balloon lady
adjusted her bra.
“Are you OK? I can’t believe
you fell ... into her ... again.”
She couldn’t tell, but she
thought she saw Mr. Z smile. She
felt his hand brush up against her
leg, giving her a tingle she had felt
rarely since she was a teenager. It
wasn’t the first time it had happened. At first Cathy felt strange
about it, but as the two grew closer, not only did it not bother her as
much, she actually found herself
enjoying it.
“Harumph.”
The tingle faded.
“Harumph.”
Cathy shook herself from her
daydream to see where the noise
was coming from. It was hard to
tell, since all she saw were the
three old, frumpled look-alikewomen, their long thin noses
pointing in the air and their
mouths smiling smugly.
“What?” Cathy asked.
Flanked on one side by a
woman in yellow and on the other
by a woman in purple sat a woman
in pink, who squinted at Cathy
through large thick-rimmed glasses as if she couldn’t see who was
asking the question. To the left of
her was the curly-haired yellow
woman, who cupped a hand to her
ear, pretending not to have heard
the question and tapping her long
painted fingernails on the table. To
her right was purple woman, who
just sat there, fingers smoothing
across her thin pale lips, her
sunken face looking perplexed.
Putting down his cake for a moment, Zeus looked at them. They
crooked their heads down as if
about to be scolded by their father
and Cathy imagined that their eyes
were big and round and droopy,
just like a puppy’s gets when it’s
peed on the rug.
“Pay no attention to them,”
Zeus told Cathy. “Shriveled up old
dykes is what they are.”
“Dykes,” he gloated to himself.
Of course, he’d be the one to know
about that. He was, after all, there
for the big moment.
His turned his eyes to Cathy,
who felt as if he were not just
looking at her, but at her soul. She
tried to hide her blush by shoving
a bit of cake into her mouth. She
wondered why he made her feel so
strange, so ... She looked down
then straight ahead at a balloon
sculpture as Zeus put his hand on
her leg again, this time keeping it
there for a moment before patting
her like a father might do to his little girl.
Zeus knew his magic was working. He already had the three sisters under control –– they would
do anything he said just for the
hope of being with him again. He
looked at the nurse, just barely
making out the mushroom cap of
flesh around her waist. He felt that
old tingle, the tingle that made him
feel 1,000 years younger. Zeus
folded his yellow napkin over and
over again, retracing the creases
until they stuck. He knew as soon
as he’d met Cathy that she was exactly what he needed. He’d always
had a knack for picking the right
girl.
Cathy took a deep breath and
swallowed. What was happening?
He was old? He was as shriveled
as those rainbow colored harpies.
More importantly, she was a
nurse, and he was a patient. Most
of the people she cared for just
needed a little attention, and she
was always happy to give some.
When she started taking care of
Mr. Z, things were no different.
But things quickly started to
change, and soon it was as if Mr. Z
was in charge and all she wanted
to do was take care of him, to
make him happy.
Zeus had spent most of his recent years wandering, trying to
find a new role for himself, one
where he could do what he’d always done, and do it in a way that
would draw as little attention as
possible. He’d found the perfect
spot in places like Sunny Mountain. Zeus had been at the retirement community for about a year,
and despite getting along with
everyone, he managed to blend in
well enough so that no one really
knew him, a trick he’d learned
ages ago and one that always came
in handy when he had to leave.
Zeus laughed when he thought
about what the others would think,
the old ones, the brothers, the sisters, the children and mothers, the
ones he’d known so long ago.
They’d say it was irresponsible,
that things could happen, that the
fates would catch up to him. But
he didn’t care. He considered himself lucky. After all, he was helping people, and doing it in one of
the few ways he could, or cared to,
and he was using the few powers
he still had to do it, which is more
than he could say for the others.
“Tough for them,” he muttered.
“Sorry?” Cathy asked. She often found herself wondering what
Mr. Z was thinking, a tendency encouraged by his habit of thinking
aloud.
Mr. Z was longer on old and
crooked than he was on young and
virile. He could be rude and obnoxious and everyone knew that
he was always trying to cop a feel.
Few if any of the other residents
spoke to him, except when he
spoke to them, and even fewer
people had anything bad to say
about him. But then there were
times when he seemed to be the
center of attention, times when
people couldn’t stay away from
him and he commanded the room.
Cathy had seen it a million times,
women, and sometimes men, who
had never given him the time of
day suddenly hanging on his every
word, staring like teenage girls into his eyes, while Mr. Z spun some
story, usually about something ordinary and mundane, before slipping away for, well, whatever.
Mr. Z brushed up against her
again and a moment of weirdness
vanished, replaced by that tingle.
She liked it, even though she knew
better, knew that she should make
him stop. She tried to catch her
breath.
Zeus turned up the charm. He
hadn’t had one so young in what
seemed like forever, and he tried
not to think about the nurse’s large
fleshy butt bouncing on his lap.
He fiddled nervously with the
paper napkin, knowing that in this
case, the chase would make it even
better.
“I used to be an electrician you
know, had my own company selling fuses and switches,” Zeus’s
voice trailed off.
“But that was after the war,” he
continued. “I was a veteran you
know. D-Day. I wasn’t there that
first day, but I came in behind. We
lost a lot of boys on those days.”
Zeus, of course, had been
nowhere near France on June 6,
1944. In fact, if memory served
him right, he had missed most of
that war, opting instead to spend
time in a South American village
where clothes were mostly optional and he was, briefly, believed to
be the living incarnation of a god
so obscure that even he had trouble remembering who he was supposed to be.
Now he and Cathy sat there,
eating cake and wiping the sticky
frosting from their fingers –– he
pretending to be oblivious to anything other than the large glob of
icing that had landed on his chest,
she trying to remember something
she had to do, but coming up
blank. Zeus stared at the mess he’d
made on his shirt, pretending to be
unsure about its origin. He was
old, and some days he felt it, but
today he didn’t.
Cathy noticed his shirt and leapt
at the chance to help. Helping was,
after all, her job. She grabbed a
napkin and began dabbing the
sweet white icing off the old
man’s shirt. She bent in close and
her body got warm with a heat that
tingled, a heat that felt like she
could wipe it away if she rubbed
hard enough. She cleaned the old
man up and looked up. It would
have been awkward if she had
been thinking clearly. All she
JULY 28, 2010
wanted to do was kiss him. She
felt his hot breath on her face and
suddenly he didn’t look old. Suddenly he was young and she was
beautiful and everything felt right.
She licked her dry lips and looked
at the smile Mr. Z was wearing.
Zeus put his hand gently on the
back of her head before she leaned
back up. No one in the room noticed as he put his hand back on
her thigh, this time running it
slowly up her thigh, pausing near
the top to feel the warmth, then
abruptly taking it away. A soft
mew came from between Cathy’s
bright red lips. All the clumsy
stumbling and seemingly harmless
touching, the stories and the look,
all of it was going to pay off soon.
Zeus knew he’d won and his mind
raced back to when he was young
and powerful. He felt strong again.
Cathy looked at Mr. Z, breathless, and saw a smile she had never
seen before, all at once sly and
loving and lustful, and she was his.
S
omewhere near a place known
simply as the Sunny Mountain
Retirement Village, a young nurse
wakes up. She is tired and sore and
the man she remembers being with
the night before is gone. She
would lie there all day, not eating,
not working, and not sleeping,
ashamed at what she’d done and
sad that he was gone. Inside she
knew, knew not to look for him,
knew that he would be gone and
that she would be alone again. She
put her hand on her stomach and
rolled over, alone and in the dark.
Outside the ground trembled with
thunder and rain beat down on the
window. On the bureau sat a paper
napkin. It was folded into the
shape of a swan and she cried.
John Saccenti has 15 years of
writing and editing experience, including as a freelancer for U.S. 1.
His work has also appeared in
Newsweek.com, National Business
Employment Weekly, and elsewhere. He lives in East Brunswick
with his wife, daughter, and dog.
Lifeland
I
by Andrea Mandel
am a cop for Lifeland,” I told
the cute woman in the
turquoise suit.
She was not impressed. “So you
are a security guard at that place
on Route 1, near the Staples?
What are those people going to
steal, the chairs?” She sniffed. “As
if anyone there cared about anything but getting a fix, anyways.”
“It’s an alternative recreation
for safety and environmentally
conscious adults.” The company’s
politically correct PR sounded
hollow to me, but they paid the
bills. “Besides, I work at the headquarters in Ewing.”
Apparently that was a worse
crime, as I saw her rapidly retreating back. A lot of people had that
reaction, but they sure did like the
high tech jobs and booming support businesses that revived the
formally moribund economy.
Lifeland is the ultimate virtual
world, or collection of worlds. The
software is wired directly into
your brain, so for all practical purposes you really think you are
there. It is like something out of
science fiction stories, although I
will admit most of them are
dystopias.
The first trials were individual
virtual worlds, but people got tired
of talking to machines. Some were
so freaked out, the psych bills and
lawsuits almost bankrupted the
company. When we introduced
multi-player shared universes, we
hit a gold mine. Not all customers
were addicted Lifeheads, but it did
happen.
My job was as an NPC –– a
live, so to speak, non-player char-
of about a dozen men. He gave the
acter. Like the typical Lifeland
food to one, and ran back to the
NPC, I was undercover.
plant. I beat him back and pretendWhen I got back from lunch,
ed to finish my lunch.
my boss Vera called me over.
“You must really like the egg“This one is a bit delicate, Nate.”
plant,” I said. His head jerked up.
“Not High Castle instance
again!” I shuddered. As a real U.S. “Please leave me alone!” he practically whined. Then almost defiArmy veteran, I couldn’t see the
antly, “I’m working for Eden
fun in virtual battles with mayCorp.”
hem, death and a light dose of real
“Who are they? I am new here.”
pain. “Having to tread lightly
He looked relieved, but still a
amongst players that delighted in
bit leery. “Oh, I thought you were
killing off our NPC medics is
a morlock from a
more cusdifferent gang.”
tomer service
“What’s a
than I think
Lifeland is the ultimate
morlock?”
they deserve.”
virtual world, or collec“Sorry. Gotta
Sometimes
go.” He ran off
cultural norms
tion of worlds. The softwith the food.
fly out the
ware is wired directly
Moving
window durinto your brain, so you
along, I checked
ing games, but
out the housing
in that case art
really think you are
in the area. It
had followed
there.
ranged from natlife. Vera
ural tree house
shook her
looks to thatched
head. “No, this
huts. I expected to see barefoot
is one of the persistent universes.
hobbits coming out of one of
We have been running it for about
them, but I checked, and that wassix months, and it is very popular.
n’t part of the programming.
It is one of the stress busters ––
Everything was open, and some
“Lion & Lamb.”
“Isn’t that the hippy dippy, Gar- people had stacked a small variety
of clothing and items inside. I fiden of Eden-type Lifeland? Peace
and Love and everything you want nally chose an abode shaped like a
pine tree and went out to collect a
without working for it?”
few tunics from a set of plants
“To some extent, but it is more
across the way.
like ‘each under his own fig tree’
When I came back, I thought
instead of a commune. There are a
hobbits were allowed after all. A
variety of simple homes to choose
small dark-haired woman barred
from, lots of each type to go
my way.
around. There are plants that keep
“This here is Amazon Corp tersupplying all kinds of delicious
ritory,” she said. “If you want to
foods and simple clothes. There is
keep this place we will need you to
no pressure and no competition do a few things for us.”
nothing to buy, trade, or make.”
“If I don’t?”
“So what is the problem? Peo“You can always try shoving
ple punching each other out of
me to get past the door,” she said
meanness?” “No. We safeguard
sweetly.
against that, and a few other
Game exploits predated Lifethings. If you try to hit somebody,
land, and I was sure they predated
it causes you pain and the other
computers. One thing I couldn’t
person is unhurt. It has been part
do was override –– I could call up
of the program since the begindata, even make a few changes ––
ning. We are not sure what is gobut I had to play by the rules.
ing on, but anxiety levels are ris“I’ll just leave.”
ing, and lots of long-time cus“Suit yourself.”
tomers aren’t coming back. They
I came back two hours later, onwon’t talk about it.”
I remembered it took me weeks ly to find another hobbit standing
guard. I was getting a strong feelto get my friend Larry, back in
ing this was going to be the same
fourth grade, to tell me that some
all over, so might as well play
bully was stealing his lunch monalong.
ey. I doubted these people were
“You win. What do I need to
going to be any more forthcoming.
do?”
It was time to get inserted.
“You can keep the house, but
Down in the barracks, I climbed
into my comfy virt chair and made every time you sign in we get the
first 20 items, delivered as we resmall talk with the technician. A
quest. If we catch you on without
moment later I was in Lion &
Lamb, complete in an unassuming our payment, all your stuff will be
gone.”
persona six inches shorter and 30
“Why can’t you just get your
pounds lighter than my formidable
own stuff? It’s free and there is all
real self.
you can use.”
To my right was a strange sunShe shrugged. “It is easier this
flower like plant, with purple
petals, red seeds and a white stem. way. Instead of figuring out the
flowers, we just get it delivered.
Ignoring my NPC cop database, I
And if we didn’t take this turf
randomly touched it in a few
someone else would anyway and
spots. Instantly a steaming eggwe would have nowhere safe to
plant parm came out on a bed of
go.”
pasta with tomato sauce. I sat
Once inside my tree, I did some
down on a large mushroom and
more database checking. Then I
started to devour it. It was excelwinked out to the real world.
lent –– no calories and I became
“So,” asked Vera, “Did you
slightly full, with always a bit of
find the snakes in Paradise?”
room for dessert. Someday I am
“Barracudas.”
going to ask how they do that.
“What?”
A nervous-looking tall man
“Barracudas. Not snakes. Did
came over, checked over his
management give a special conshoulder, and placed his order. A
tract deal to Employee Health Enfull five minutes went by while he
became more anxious and I calmly terprises?”
“Yes, about three months ago.
finished my lunch. He literally ran
They were looking at using our
off, then came back to reorder.
services for stress management for
This time it took seven minutes.
I did some electronic snooping. some really high level teams.
The program was set to constantly Three companies, two nonprofits,
a law firm, and two powerful govincrease the time between helpings, and reset after 24 hours. This ernment agencies, last I looked.”
“So they put all these super agprevented the boredom from continuous gratification. The man was gressive teams into an environliterally on his 15th helping in two ment where they had nothing to do
and expected them to relax?”
hours. He must be wolfing it
Vera looked defensive. “It was
down.
I decided to follow him quietly. a peaceful world, where they had
no need to compete and there was
He practically ran over to a group
U.S. 1
31
Thoughts while sitting under
a thirty-foot spider
High above the turbine floor
Of the eviscerated power station,
On a platform jutting from drab gray walls,
Lurks Maman, the seven ton spider
Of Louise Bourgeois,
Bronze legs outstretched,
Sac distended,
Poised to weave the web of the new millennium.
[He] What does it portend?
I ask the art historian.
Is it true, as the artist claims,
That the spider is the spirit
Of her mother
As she wove the tapestries
In their Parisian workshop?
[She] If you believe that,
You’ll believe anything.
Surely the Spider Woman
Lives in the far future
When matriarchy rules the land
And men are bred purely
For gladitorial contests
And sexual recreation
For the ruling elite.
[He] Put aside your feminist daydreams.
That awesome arachnid
May dominate a new age,
When man has retreated to dank caves,
Where he cowers in fear
As the monster spiders,
Bastard offspring of a nuclear holocaust,
Prowl the land,
Hunting juicy tidbits of humanity.
[She] Let’s not be carried away.
The theorists say
The spider is merely architecture,
A redoubtable Ding an Sich,
With no relation to narrative,
Past, present, or future.
But their arguments beg the questions,
Why does it disturb us so?
–– Robert Motley
Robert Motley is a physicist at Princeton Plasma Physics Lab
and a member of the Princeton memoir group. The sculpture, an installment at the Tate Modern in London, is a work of Louise Bourgeois, a friend of the author’s until her death on May 31, 2010.
nothing to compete over.”
I looked at her. “There is always a way. And the people who
were there before –– they really
were looking for their own fig
trees –– not kumbaya and sharing
everything they had. Too many of
them are stressed from always
having to share, whether they want
to or not. They may have thought
they were dreaming of a world
where they didn’t have to lock
their doors, but what they really
want are good secure locks.”
“What about the Health Enterprises people? That is a lucrative
contract.”
“Get the psychs on that, but I
would break up the teams as a first
step. Then I would put them in
worlds where they can enjoy competing. There is a lot less stress
when lives and billions of dollars
are not on the line.”
Vera nodded. “I guess we are
still better at the technical aspects
than the people part.”
I didn’t tell her that if we get
that figured out it will be really, really scary.
Andrea Mandel has lived in
West Windsor for over 20 years.
She is active in Girl Scouts and is
a member of the West Windsor Bicycle & Pedestrian Alliance. An
independent packaging consultant, she lives with her husband,
Richard, daughter Lauren (see
page 35), and assorted pets.
32
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
Role Players
Back Seat Driver
by Wendell Wood
Collins
I
pull into the Holding Pen at
Newark Airport, a mini-UN
behind barbed wire, with black
cars jammed into impossible parallel parking spots and a few token
SUVs hovering in the corner of the
lot. You can’t walk more than
three cars long without hitting a
game of Texas Hold’em (the Russians), a chess match (the Sikhs),
or the market gurus touting their
next buys (a few of us Italians with
Poles thrown in for diversification).
“Knowledge is power,” my
buddy Marco told me when I first
started driving. Marco just retired
to Wildwood where the blues are
jumping right in front of his
beachfront cottage. After three
years behind the wheel, I’ve
switched his motto up a little:
“Knowledge is in the Back Seat.”
You have to have a good
enough ear to take in what’s going
on in the back seat. That’s why I’d
rather drive a Town Car or a Suburban any day over a gas guzzling
limo. You can hear your rides
much better.
You might think that the limo
riders are the richer ones, and
therefore the ones with the insider
information. But you’d be wrong.
The smartest, richest guys are the
ones who request the SUVs.
They’re the ones who aren’t too
good to share rides, and also that
way they can save their own company’s nickel and reinvest it and
make even more moolah. These
guys make a buck by being
smarter than the next guy. If they
could, they’d sit up front with me
since they usually get car sick in
the back, being control freaks and
all.
When I drove my first business
owner, I said to myself, that’s
what I want to be someday (but
not the car sick part) –– self-employed. I can spot ’em a mile away
in the waiting area outside of Baggage Claim, Door # 3. These are
the guys –– and they are mostly
guys, pardon me ladies –– who
wear old khakis and fraying golf
shirts from the local YMCA outing that their company sponsored,
and black windbreakers from the
fancier golf outings they get invited to each year by the vendors
who have more dough to blow but
less to show for it at the end of the
day. Supply Chain Fashionomics,
I call it.
When the entrepreneurs get to
my car, they put their own luggage
in the trunk, god bless ’em, and
then they crack the window. This
way they don’t get car sick.
The Holding Pen at Newark
Airport is how I got my big break.
If I wasn’t doing this gig, I’d probably be a mechanic like my dad
and his dad. See, I’m just a regular
Joe, a wise guy from Paterson,
who likes to be in the driver’s seat.
I also seem to get along with guys
from all walks of life. The new drivers lose money to me under the
shade of the beach umbrella stuck
into the gravel lot. The old timers
like to watch the games, and
they’re also too smart to throw in a
ten spot and watch me knick away
at their tips. The Sikhs appreciate
having an audience over their
shoulder during a tense moment of
Check. The Chinese, who are terrible drivers and gamblers but
speak good English, play this
weird game called Go. And their
kids are probably going to go to
Princeton while my kids are lucky
they get into Glassboro State, or
what do they call it now, Rowan?
That’s what I want to be someday –– rich enough to buy a college, or at least a building on campus. I had a ride last week whose
kid is applying to Yale and he’s
worried that his son would be embarrassed if they named a dorm after him. Who’s he kidding? This is
the same guy who runs his own
hedge fund. You don’t make
enough money working for Pru or
J&J to name a dorm after yourself.
That kind of money only comes
from sweat equity, or luck. Or
maybe both.
So I sit here in the lot and wait
for my next ride, some brownnosing lawyer for one of the last remaining investment banks. I get
the call that his flight from Zurich
has finally landed and he’ll clear
Passport Control in 20, but I take
my time leaving the pen. Some
rides aren’t going to tip you no
matter what, so there’s no point
being on time. It’s more fun to
watch ’em sweat from afar, waiting beside the Starbucks in the
bowels of Liberty.
My ride’s furiously batting
away at his Blackberry, probably
berating his secretary that I’m late,
as I saunter toward him, holding
up my handmade “Nelson” sign. I
write it so it looks more like “Neison,” just to confuse him a little.
He barely looks me in the eye as
he shoves his little black roller bag
at me.
“Good afternoon Mr. Nelson.
Are we going to Short Hills?”
He rolls his eyes and nods ever
so slightly, like it was a dumb
question. Actually it wasn’t that
dumb a question. A year ago I
picked up the wrong Mr. Johnson
and delivered him all the way to
Yardley, Pennsylvania, before
finding out he lived in Princeton.
Whoops.
Mr. Nelson sports a grey lightweight wool suit and white shirt,
blue tie, like he’s ready for a Presidential debate. But because he’s a
lawyer for an investment bank,
You might think that
the limo riders are the
richer ones, with the
insider information. But
you’d be wrong. The
smartest, richest guys
are the ones who
request the SUVs.
he’s probably broken the law too
many times to run for President. I
myself don a black shirt, black
pants, black jacket, aqua tie. This
particular brand of uniform hides
dirt and looks spiffy compared to
the dumpy looking suits of my fellow drivers. Who needs a suit unless you’re interviewing for a job
or getting buried?
Mr. Nelson confirms, Short
Hills it is. A nice easy ride from
Newark, a hop, skip and a jump
over the foothills of the Watchung
Reservation.
“How was your flight Mr. Nelson?” I attempt to politely make
small talk as we walk to the car,
but he ignores me and jumps on
his cell phone again.
“Fine, fine, excuse me, I have
an important call to jump on.”
I bet you do, I think, morphing
into limo driver mode, the quiet,
deferential man in a cap. But I
don’t look so good in a hat. Now
that the hair is disappearing, a cap
might be a better look on me, if not
the Hair Club for Men.
We head north on the Turnpike
and then breeze onto 78, with a
wall of traffic coming at us from
the west. I thank my lucky stars
I’m not stuck in that mess. I’d hate
for Mr. Nelson to have a conniption fit if he were to miss his tee
time at Baltusrol.
The word from the back seat,
which I pretend not to hear, is
“Umhum hmmm, maybe. Sounds
like a plan.” I focus my attention
on the road.
Mr. Nelson types furiously into
his handheld. I’m not sure if I
should try to make any more small
talk or just give up. I look in my
rearview window and opt to be
friendly one more time.
“Did they give you any food on
the flight, sir? I have some pretzels
if you’re hungry.”
“Continental served its last
meal today. I’m good.”
Hmmm, The Last Supper on
my favorite airline? I sure hope it
isn’t going the way of its brethren
and charging for box lunches,
which is a stretch to call them even
that. I like picking up Continental
rides better than USAir or American, which is the worst. With Continental, people seem to be a little
more on time and a little less
grouchy after a snack.
I pass dreary shopping centers
and car dealerships lining 24 and
escape the ugliness to deliver Mr.
N to his manse on Long Hill Drive, a stone’s throw from the dregs
of The Oranges, which I always
used to think sounded very hoitytoity until I got a taste of them first
hand.
Just like I predicted, I get no tip
and barely a thank you. But as I
drive away, it dawns on me,
maybe I actually did come away
with a tip.
It’s almost 6 when my last pickup of the day cancels on me, so I
forego a last pass at the Pen and
head to my apartment in
Metuchen. Driving down the
Turnpike, I keep thinking about
what he said, and try to piece together his cryptic phone conversation. Something about a board
meeting tomorrow and it will be
all set. What will be all set?
I turn off 27 into my garden
apartment complex –– still looking for the plants — and lug my
tired body up the concrete stairs.
The cat has coughed up a hairball
or something gross on the front
mat –– my own special Welcome
Home gift. I step over his present,
flip on the light switch, and plop
down in front of my computer,
complete with my own little
Bloomberg setup. One of my rides
gave me a short cut to his
Bloomberg terminal that lets me
see real-time quotes and market
data on my Dell laptop. I type in
CON and see what’s what. Nope
that’s not it –– it’s CAL. Wow,
some volatility lately, and today’s
price is about half of what it’s
been in the past six months. I toggle over to my E-trade account and
drop a ticket that’s way more than
my usual 100 shares of a $10
stock. And then wait.
The next morning, I’m driving
back to Newark, listening to 1010
WINS for tunnel and bridge traffic
updates when I hear the big news:
Continental and United are merging. I almost have a wreck. I’m 10
minutes away from the Holding
Pen, where I’ll hopefully be able
to hop on a laptop and take advantage of the situation. I`m so excited I’m about to piss in my pants,
which gives me an idea for their
new name –– Incontinent. I’m sad
and glad at the same time –– sad
for my favorite airline to be torn
asunder, but glad for whatever
might be awaiting me on E-trade.
Call It America
Call It the Other Side of Princeton
A young dark-haired girl –– very thin, very pretty walks the
few steps through the diner to our booth.
She hands us a smile, a menu, a knife, a fork, and a paper
napkin.
She brings us our food and returns too often to ask if the
hamburger is ok –– how are the fries? Is everything ok? Free
refills –– let me bring you another coke.
There is no comparison for her. She has only seen her own
image in the mirror.
She does not recognize what true beauty is.
She underestimates or does not ever estimate herself.
She clears the table and says for dessert we have cookies,
pie, or cake.
We say coffee and cake but what type of cake?
She does not know –– never seen it before but she will bring
it back.
She places the cake on the table with a smile, an apron and
loose clothing all on her little girl frame.
Here you go it’s tarry sue. We look at the cake then at her
and say: no, no, it’s tiramisu.
She says it looks delicious but she has never tasted it before.
She says I’m new to town and you have to understand I was
raised on hamburger and noodles. I’m just not used to the
fancy things they serve here at the diner.
We say get a fork we’ll share. She smiles –– her eyes melt
–– she says you’re sweet and turns away.
— Bill Keller
Keller is a woodworker in a shop that produces jewelry boxes
and picture frames sold to stores and gift shops around the country.
He was born in Princeton 43 years ago and lives in Plainsboro.
I pull into the outer lot of Liberty, home of the free and the brave
drivers of our country’s captains
of industry, and think. What if I
could be like them? I nab a 15minute spot and jump out, only to
see my Polack friend Freddie,
who’s ecstatic about the news.
“We’ll get the Chicago business now, right buddy?” he says, a
big Cubs fan since there are lots
more Poles there than here.
“Who knows, who knows,” I
smile, heading to my laptop connection, the Indians, of Asia, not
Cleveland, who sit under a little
Wifi tent in their corner of the
world and day trade in between
rides.
“What’s going on, my man?” I
beam as I walk towards Panjit, the
ringleader of the crew. He half
grins. I only grace their presence
when I need their connection.
“I should ask you the same
question!”
“Oh, I made a little bet –– just
wanna see if it paid off,” I admit.
They’ll know soon enough.
I walk to the back of the tent
where a card table is propped up
and several laptops lay in waiting
for their next customer. I plop a
$10 bill into a rusty can sitting between them, and ask a 20-something kid leaning against the tent
pole for today’s password.
“Ash2ash,” he answers.
They’re always coming up with
passwords with some sort of inside joke on the news –– this particular incident being the dearth of
our business in the past few
weeks. That damn volcano in Iceland had me cooling my heels in
the holding pen for days.
I chuckle and squat down in
front of the laptop and type in the
secret code and pull up E-trade.
CAL is now trading at $23, almost
double its price of yesterday. I
gasp as I do the math in my head.
I bring up my account, pull up
my holdings and quickly click the
SELL button beside CAL. I’ve
just made enough money to buy a
new car, cash down, and set up my
own business. No more getting
called from HQ. I’m the new HQ.
The front seat has just moved to
the back.
Wendell Wood Collins is the director of corporate relations for
Princeton University’s Bendheim
Center for Finance and writes the
entertainment blog for Princeton
Online.
Tommy and the
Cool Kids
W
by Ed Leefeldt
hen I was in Stengel
High it was GREAT to
be one of the cool kids.
You dressed slick. You walked
through the halls with swagger.
You got picked first for basketball.
And when the girls flirted with
you, you knew just what to say . . .
like Marlon Brando: “Hey, whadda ya want from me?”
Yes, it was great to be one of
the cool kids.
I was not one of the cool kids.
In fact, I was lucky to be included
in a group that other kids referred
to as “The Losers.” My friend
Bruce Waters and I stumbled
home carrying our book bags full
of homework while the cool kids
rode by in their cars honking at us.
I was the “steady catcher” in baseball, because neither team wanted
me.
Now the leader of the Cool
Kids, the natural aristocracy of
Stengel High, was Tommy Martin,
the Coolest of the Cool. He was
blessed with good looks and a
great smile, three letters on his
school athletic jacket, and the ability to get away with anything. He
smoked and ran track, thereby
proving our parents were blatant
liars when they claimed “Cigarettes will cut your wind.” He and
his buddies would go “Chevy surfing,” riding down Route 1 standing on the roof of a Bel Air.
Even the teachers respected his
cockiness. One time my French
professor Mr. Upshaw was using
some particularly nasty-smelling
paste to put up pictures of Paris. It
was so bad that if the Germans
JULY 28, 2010
could have used the stuff in the
trenches, they would have won the
First World War. The girls in the
class started gagging. Suddenly
we heard Tommy’s voice from the
back of the room. “Hey, Mr. Upshaw,” he yelled, “your deodorant
is failing you!”
Now most kids would have
been sent to the office for a crack
like that. But Tommy wasn’t most
kids. He had what Mr. Upshaw
called, “Je ne sais quoi,” which
means: “I don’t know what –– but
it works!” We students fantasized
it was some hot chick named “Jenny Sequoia.”
Napoleon once said he wanted
his generals to be lucky rather than
smart. Maybe my loser friends and
I were a little smarter ... well, we
got better grades ... but I would
have given all my As and Bs just
to get a smile from Class President
Ceil Bernhardt or to lock longing
eyes –– just once –– with Prom
Queen Kathy Tomko. I was that
horny and, yes, that desperate.
While Tommy was lucky, I, on
the other hand, would always get
caught. If a spitball went whizzing
through the air, the teacher would
turn around just as my hand was
raised to go to the bathroom. If the
fat kid behind me burped or passed
gas, the other students would look
at me –– and snicker.
Finally it was February of my
suffering senior year, time for the
annual trip to Washington. Given
their reputation for pranks, the
arch-conservative tight-ass principal (but aren’t they all?) wanted to
leave Tommy and the Cool Kids
twiddling their thumbs for three
days in detention. But Mr. Upshaw and the other teachers argued that a visit to our country’s
capital would help these impressionable young adults. The Angels
of Democracy would light upon
their shoulders and make them
better citizens.
Tommy and the Cool Kids saw
it another way. This was their
chance to perform in front of a national audience. Tommy got 40
kids to make the bus sway by
rocking back and forth on the way
down. Once in Washington, you
never knew where the Cool Kids
would show up –– or what they
would avoid. They ducked the
chaperones’ tally by switching
jackets with friends and jumping
on and off the bus where the 65year-old myopic Miss Lowsell
was trying to keep count.
They missed the trip to the
Supreme Court (courts were not
big on their agenda), but we knew
they showed up at the White
House, because one of the velvet
ropes separating the visitors from
Lady Bird’s study was missing after they left. I also knew they were
at the Capitol when we took our
class picture because I heard Tommy’s voice shout: “Hey, Ed!” I
turned to look, the photographer
snapped his shot, and while you
will see many suits and smiling
faces in that class portrait, many
Jackie Kennedy bouffants and
Texas beehives, the only thing you
will see of me ... is my right ear.
Tommy and the gang held latenight card games after lights out,
and those fortunate enough to be
“invited” were relieved of their
hard-earned spending money on
the bed sheets of that seedy old hotel where we stayed. They had to
go home without even a souvenir
flag or a stamped penny to remember the trip.
After they had cleaned out the
suckers, the Cool Kids would do a
3 a.m. mayhem run through the
hotel. I remember waking up
thinking I had wet the bed. No,
Tommy –– or one of his buddies
–– had popped me with a water
balloon while I slept.
But the coolest place the Cool
Kids found was the roof of that 18story hotel. From there they could
look down on the whole city of
Washington, dangling their feet
over the edge and throwing cigarette butts down on those below.
Sure, the roof door was locked, but
Tommy had borrowed one of
Ceil’s hairpins. The overweight
hotel detective chased them, but
they could outrun him on the
The angry principal
pointed to the alleged
miscreants and told
everyone that because
of ‘those boys responsible’ there would be no
more Washington trips
as long as he was principal.
stairs, and when he took the elevator, Tommy hit the emergency
button and jammed him between
floors until the bellboy came to
rescue him.
After three days of hearing ––
and suffering from –– the exploits
of the Cool Kids, we Losers had
had enough. Bruce –– who was
less of a loser than the rest of us ––
decided. “Co’mon,” he said.
“We’re going up to that roof.”
Those words electrified our little group. It was as if Frodo had
said, “I will go to Mordor.” So
everyone went ... everyone but
me. As I said, I KNEW I was unlucky. If I went up there, I would
get caught. For guys like Tommy,
audacity always worked. For me,
cowardice carried the day. As it
turned out, I was right. By the time
Bruce and the Losers made it
there, a chair had either fallen or
been thrown off that roof. It went
crashing down and ricocheted off
a windshield. An army of Metro
cops, followed by the huffing hotel detective, hit the roof, missing
the real culprit, but just in time to
collar my friends.
This was the era before students’ rights. All events were canceled. The hotel went into lockdown. My friends were dragged
into the laundry room and sweated
until they confessed, probably by
threatening to call their parents,
which the cops did anyway. Money presumably changed hands before we were allowed to ride the
buses home. Bruce stared out the
window into the darkness the
whole way, never saying a word.
He knew what he faced when he
got back.
At school the angry principal
called an assembly and –– pointing to the alleged miscreants ––
told everyone that because of
“those boys responsible” there
would be no more trips for the rest
of the year, and no more Washington trips as long as he was principal. Teachers who had been on the
trip had sheepish faces, and we
went down as “The Bad Class” in
our school’s history.
But it was even worse for Bruce
and my friends. They walked
through the halls with their shoulders slumped. They had taken the
bruising meant for the Cool Kids,
but they got no mercy or sympathy. Tommy would sing “Up on
the Roof” as they shuffled by. For
the Cool Kids, getting caught was
the real crime.
To the best of my knowledge,
our class has never had a reunion.
There was a feeble attempt recently, but supposedly they couldn’t
find a local restaurant interested in
having its silverware lifted. So, for
a long time, I never knew what had
happened to Tommy Martin.
But of course, I wondered. Had
life finally gripped him in its inevitable vice? Had he suffered
from social diseases or multiple
divorces? Did he end up in a drugaddled stupor, embittered and em-
barrassed by missed chances and
failed ventures, with children who
hated him, wives seeking alimony,
bill collectors on his tail? Had he
made a cameo on “Cops” (Bad
Boys, Bad Boys, Whatcha Gonna
Do?) in a torn t-shirt as five of
Trenton’s finest wrestled him
down?
Or had he gone on living the
way he had in high school, riding
the wild surf down Route 1 on the
back of that Bel Air, perhaps as a
Goldman Sachs investment
banker selling subprime mortgage
instruments and then moving to
Florida just before the crash?
In other words, I asked the eternal question: Is there any justice in
this world?
And my answer is unequivocal.
Yes, there is ... and no, there isn’t.
Last month my old friend Bruce
called me. Bruce had gone to Rutgers night school for 10 years to
win an engineering degree and finally found a job in Princeton.
Then Life downsized him. Now he
lives in rural Virginia and drives a
school bus. “Ed,” he complains,
“I’m Ralph Kramden to a bunch of
kids.”
Recently he took those kids on
a trip to Washington. For Bruce
the trip was bittersweet; the seedy
old hotel had been demolished, but
every white marble monument reminded him of his high school disgrace: the cops, the vengeful principal, the jeers of his classmates,
the moment when he first realized
that he would NEVER be one of
the Cool Kids.
But when he got to the Lincoln
Memorial, he saw students wearing the green and white Stengel
emblem get off another bus. They
were an honors history class, polite, respectful, in awe of the huge
statue, walking in single file, talking only in whispers. They were
like, and yet so unlike, the Wild
Ones who had invaded the town
with him. The old longing, the desire to relive those days came
back. Bruce walked over to the
principal who was watching those
kids with steely-eyed vigilance,
and told him he was from Stengel
High too.
The principal turned, offered
his hand, and flashed an all-too-familiar smile. “Hey, Bruce, don’t
you remember me? I’m Tommy
Martin.”
Ed Leefeldt, a Hamilton Township resident, graduated from high
school in 1964 and holds a Master’s Degree in Teaching.
Cool Burn
by Marylou Kelly
Streznewski
W
alking was never a problem; she had perfected a
slow graceful gait a long
time ago. Only sudden motions
made her lose control and stagger.
So after sliding the Mercedes carefully into her space in the Country
Club’s flower-bordered parking
lot, Pilar let herself down even
more carefully from the driver’s
seat. Opening the rear door to
reach for her things, she misjudged and stumbled to the side,
falling against the next car. The
hot metal made her hand burn.
Careful, she told herself. No time
to make a mistake with her life
now and embarrass Ian. Everyone
knew him.
She checked her appearance in
the car’s darkened rear window.
Everything in place: white sun visor over cropped bleached hair,
tanned face, large dark glasses,
white designer jacket, white designer pants. She had bleached
away all traces of a one-room
house in a Mexican village in her
odyssey across the continent. Only
her exotic name remained. Reach-
ing slowly for her tote, she hefted
the weight onto her left shoulder
and concentrating on her task,
closed the door again without losing her balance.
The rules at the club were strict.
No food or drink in the pool area.
So she did what everyone else did;
stashed the water bottle in her tote
bag, for discreet sips when the
lifeguard wasn’t looking. Her pink
designer water bottle held the
equivalent of several martinis. She
had liked gin even before.
The pool was clear green glass
in the sunlight. Large chaises lined
up in neat blue and white rows on
the edges. The lifeguards were just
drifting back from lunch, climbing
to their perches to take turns being
bored. She should swim a few laps
at least. Get some exercise, Ian
had said this morning. The cold
water would feel good. Her present floating feeling would add to
the pleasure of the swimming.
And she did like to swim, or she
had before. When was before, she
wondered ... maybe if she should
figure out where before ended and
after began...
At the pool entrance, two little
girls scampered past her, giggling.
They had no children; she had
agreed to that before they married.
And once the business was so successful, Ian could afford a dozen
secretaries; there was no need to
work. A cleaning woman kept the
house. Pilar cooked. Ian appreciated that. Ian appreciated everything
she did for him. He said so.
Often, if she paced herself during the day, she would be just right
to have one martini with him when
he came home at seven. He knew,
but they never acknowledged that
he knew. He was simply very kind
to her, the way one is kind to a sick
person. They had no social life as
such. Ian only need that she appear
“appropriately gregarious” –– his
teasing phrase –– on his arm at important business functions.
She chose a chaise at the far end
of the pool, in a corner shaded by
the large trees, away from the sun
worshipers and their oiling. The
weight in the tote was comforting
as she set it down. Only a few
more moments and she could have
that first cool sip. And it must be a
sip. There was the drive home to
be accomplished, and dinner to
arrange. Plenty of time if she was
careful. Shedding jacket and
pants, she stretched slowly, knowing her body was attractive in the
pink bikini, knowing most women
did not look this good at her age.
No children to spoil the contours,
as Ian always said. She took care
of herself. No foolish eating.
Sleek. That was the word Ian
loved to use when he undressed
her. She lay, passive as always,
because that was what Ian liked, to
play with her like a doll. Sleek,
like a beautiful eel, he would
croon, my beautiful sleek little eel.
She settled into the mesh of the
chaise, her left hand automatically
reaching for the tote –– finally,
that cool sip –– when she heard the
slight tapping sound she dreaded.
She’s here, she thought, and I was
so hoping she wouldn’t be. Hand
hovered over the water bottle. I
will not look at her. I will not open
my eyes. But it didn’t matter, she
could see her anyway, as she had
so many times. Tall and slender,
somewhere in her 20s, a body Pilar could envy, sleek and tanned
like her own, the white bikini even
more brief and daring. Closecropped dark hair was sculpted
around a narrow face, almost feral,
with dark eyes that gleamed.
Scrape. That would be her turning the chaise away from the pool
to face into the sun. Squeak. That
would be her sitting down, surprisingly heavy. Thunk. That would
be the first sneaker. Then clack.
That would be it. Pilar was always
surprised at how carelessly the
U.S. 1
33
young woman tossed aside the
second sneaker with its light tan
leg, its metallic knee joint and
rounded cup at the top; sliding it
out of the sun under her chair.
Now would come the slow methodical coating with lotion. She
would always begin with the
stump, almost caressing the blunt
rounded flesh as if she felt sorry
for it. Then working over the good
leg, the inner thighs, the belly. Sitting up and very limber to do the
back, reaching around and around;
now up over the breasts, the neck.
A long leisurely traversal of the
arms. She looked almost like an
animal grooming itself as her face
emerged, glistening, from her
ministering hands.
She had a peculiar way of flopping back into her chair when this
ritual was accomplished. She too
had a tote, also kept close at hand,
and from it would come large dark
glasses and a book. Always it was
the large hard cover variety, no
beach books like the others.
She could be trusted for almost
an hour. Pilar had timed her, because if this were all she did, come
and sit in the sun and read and
show off the good parts of her
body, which were very good indeed; dare some young man to
stop and flirt, then Pilar would not
have hated her so much. She
would say it, almost aloud, to herself, I hate her.
Opening her eyes, she turned
cautiously to the right. There she
was, not 20 feet away, absorbed in
a large red book. Did this woman
The weight in the tote
was comforting as she
set it down. Only a few
more moments and she
could have that first
cool sip. And it must be
a sip. There was the drive home to be accomplished, and dinner to
arrange.
work? She looked too old for a
college student. Graduate school?
The books always looked like
textbooks.
Left hand groped through the
opening of the bag and found the
water bottle, and slid it toward the
mouth, one eye on the lifeguard
across the pool. He was fixing his
umbrella for the umpteenth time.
That seemed to be what lifeguards
did, fixed umbrellas. It was more
than a sip. She allowed herself a
longish pull on the straw, only
stopping when the burning in her
throat threatened to make her
cough. She must not attract attention. The cool burn slid down her
throat. She imagined that she
could feel its progress down into
her stomach, her intestines,
spreading out to her arms, her legs,
up to her face, all of her body
calmed and soothed by the cool
burn. That was her name for it.
The cool burn.
She would not have to care
about the one-legged woman for a
little while at least. There would
be plenty of time to swim before
the other one left her book. She retreated behind her eyelids. Cool,
cool, burn. Around her the chaises
filled. Men and women came and
went, fitting lap swimming into
lunch hours or flights from housework. No children were allowed.
They had their own pool, on the
far side of a tall sheltering hedge.
Their squeals were muted, mingling with splashes and conversations. She dozed.
A chair scraped, loudly. She
woke. Too late. Now would come
34
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
the worst part. Again it didn’t
matter if she looked. She had
looked before, and she knew what
would happen next. The young
woman would be standing beside
the chaise, not holding on to anything, balancing firmly on one
leg, pulling a cap over her hair.
Then she would hop, nimbly,
the 10 feet or so to the pool’s
edge, where she would bend her
only knee and lower her body until her hands supported her on the
side of the pool and she could sit
with her leg-and-a-half in the water. Then launching herself off the
side, she would begin to swim.
Once in the water, she looked exactly like everyone else.
Opening eyes was necessary.
She had to check the lifeguard.
Safe. Left hand found the bottle;
this time it was a sip. A pot-bellied man crossed her line of vision, pale-skinned, dripping water, breathing heavily. Whale, she
thought. People should take better
care of themselves. She wondered
why he wasn’t ashamed to let people see him like that.
Across the pool, a good body
was oiling himself after a swim.
Graying hair, but all the lines
were trim, tanned, and light. Like
Ian. He took care of himself at the
gym. She had never been there.
He had never been to the pool.
The left hand reached again. No.
Too soon.
Always, always, one must be
careful. Accidents could lead to
questions, and questions to discoveries. She made sure there
would be no such problems. Four
liquor stores, one each week, so
no one could say she bought a lot.
Even the cleaning woman would
never notice where she kept the
bottles in the laundry room. She
had never felt the need for friends.
Other women seemed so busy, so
involved, chattering on about
things which bored her. They never watched the same TV shows
she did. Caring for Ian took up so
much time, cooking lovely dinners, shopping for clothes, the
hairdresser, the tanning salon, and
lately, the diet consultant. He
wanted her beautiful. She knew
that.
The small head appeared at the
edge of the pool. It would be followed by the rest of the body,
hoisting itself deftly out of the water, one knee doing the work of
two. And then the hands, the rising on one leg, and the hopping,
that awful hopping, back to the
chair. The woman had company.
There were voices now, and two
chairs scraping up to hers on either side. Two tanned bodies, two
bright voices chiming, “How was
...?” “Oh, didn’t I tell you...?” “I
guess so ...” Young laughter.
Now, a long pull on the bottle.
Remember the car. Never mind,
I’ll swim it off. I’ll be fine. I will.
I can walk. I have two legs. I can
drive. I learned long ago. I can
swim, kicking with both feet. This
I can do.
Sun visor tossed aside, she
strode the 10 feet to the edge of
the water –– no cap –– and dived
into the pool, making a graceful
pink arc of her sleek body. The
water was only cool, cool, no
burn. She swam away, kicking at
the water with two legs; beating at
it with her arms; like a woman
putting out a stubborn, long-burning fire.
Marylou Kelly Streznewski’s
career has included theater, journalism, and teaching writing. Her
articles have appeared in
Delaware Valley magazines and
newspapers. She grew up in Trenton, attended the College of New
Jersey, and taught at the then
Lawrence Junior High School.
She lives in Bucks County.
Foreign Affairs
Fly Away Home
D
by Anne Sweeney
yed blond hair piled high.
A yellow Dior dress straining across a bulging stomach. A canary diamond on a fat
finger. The Iranian lady in Seat 1A
was one big yellow bird. She sat
next to her husband, Farid Sabbah,
a rich businessman, sipping Moet
and demolishing the mixed nuts
on the drinks tray.
I wheeled the hors d’oeuvre cart
down the aisle, provisioned that
morning in Paris, direct from
Maxim’s and laden with caviar,
seafood, artichokes, and chilled
vodka in a silver bowl. Mrs. Sabbah feigned a lack of interest in the
spectacular spread and did not
speak to me, a mere stewardess.
All requests –– no, demands ––
were directed by her husband to
the male in charge. Our purser,
Derek Cameron, was a soft-spoken Scotsman who could defer to
arrogant, nouveaux riche passengers of any nationality.
The Sabbahs were VIPs, to be
cosseted and endured, along with
the other demanding passengers
aboard Pan Am Flight 114 from
Paris to Tehran. The trip was a
popular bid for stewardesses. The
passengers could be difficult ––
curt European businessmen, crass
American oil execs, and ostentatious Iranians. But it was two layovers in Paris, and what Tehran
lacked in charm, it made up for in
shopping, its bazaars, filled with
magical carpets, shining brass, and
tiles of brilliant blue.
Derek was locking the liquor
kits for landing, but not before
slipping a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black into an airsick bag. “Our
gift to the cleaners, Jennifer,” he
grinned. “No baksheesh, no
clean.”
We saw the dusty hills that
ringed Tehran coming up beneath
us and hurried to the jump seat.
The landing was bumpy and we
bounced over the runway, but Mr.
Sabbah was already snapping his
fingers.
When we finally stopped, I
went to the closet and brought out
Mrs. Sabbah’s chador. I had seen
this before. Middle Eastern
women in haute couture and hung
with Cartier, throwing a black
cloak over the whole excessive
pile before getting off the plane at
home. I handed it to Mrs. Sabbah
with a sly smile. It smelled of
sweat and stale Chanel No. 5.
There was a line at the check-in
desk at the InterContinental
Tehran. Mostly Americans and
Pan Am crew members demanding to know why their rooms
weren’t ready. The desk clerk was
struggling with the computer, his
limited English, and two abusive
Texans.
“Miss Galvin?” It was one of
the passengers –– a Brit named
Charles Bamford. “I wanted to
thank you for a most pleasant
flight.” And before I could reply,
“My company is hosting cocktails
and dinner at the rooftop restaurant tonight. Could you possibly
join me? The chaps are bringing
their wives, which isn’t the usual
thing. It would help to have a feminine presence.”
I hesitated. Mr. Bamford was a
little older –– mid-40s to my 28
years. The dinner and drink were
sure to be lavish. Plus, an evening
with a gentlemanly British executive would beat dinner in the coffee shop, harassed by local Lotharios who haunted the hotel, hitting
on stewardesses and claiming to
be cousins of the Shah. “I’d be delighted,” I said.
Even with my blue silk sheath
from Hong Kong and bracelet
from the Beirut gold market, I was
no match for the Iranian women
who sat on sofas around a corner
table. Their jewels glittered from
across the room, brighter than the
lights of Tehran below. Charles
suggested I join them while he
talked business with the men.
The women were gracious and
welcoming, even as they sized up
my auburn hair, dress, and inadequate jewelry. Clearly, the grand
dame was Maryam, a fiftyish
woman with harshly dyed black
hair and a prominent nose that
could have been carved from a
Persian mosaic. The younger
wives surrounded her like
acolytes.
I sat between Maryam and a
thin young blond woman with
wide and wary blue eyes. “This is
Sophie and she is Danish,”
Maryam explained as though the
girl could not speak for herself.
Met her husband, Dara Nazari, at
the University of Copenhagen. A
good catch for her, in Maryam’s
opinion. She pointed to a slender
young man in a Cardin suit talking
animatedly with Charles Bamford.
Sophie wore a black velvet
pantsuit. Her left arm was in a
‘There is nothing to be
done. If somehow she
gets out of the house
and to the Danish Embassy,it would still be
very difficult to get her
out of the country.
These husbands hold all
the cards.’
sling, fashioned from a black and
gold Hermes scarf. When Maryam
leaned across the table for her
drink Sophie’s pale hand, with its
blood red nails, grasped my arm.
“You are with an airline?”
“Yes, Pan Am.”
“You are here long?”
“We go to Pairs tomorrow.”
She stood up suddenly, pulling
me to my feet. “Of course, Jennifer, I will show you to the ladies
room.” The grip on my arm tightened, but I smiled. “Excuse us,
please.” No one seemed to notice.
The women were huddled over the
table, whispering in Farsi.
Sophie pushed me down onto
the silk upholstered chaise lounge
in the ladies room. She said something in Farsi to the attendant and
pushed a handful of rials into her
apron. The woman scurried out.
Sophie looked in the marble bathroom scanning the stalls for signs
of other occupants, then sat down
abruptly.
“Do you have paper?” I did. I
always carried a pen and small
notepad in my purse. Sophie began to write in Danish.
She pushed the pad back in my
purse. “Take this to the Danish
Embassy in Paris. Tell them to call
my father to get me out of here.”
“Why can’t you go to the embassy here in Tehran?”
“I am a prisoner in my own
home. I can never go anywhere
without my husband or unless I
am with other women. That bitch
Maryam is my husband’s aunt.
She watches me, goes with me, always. When I said I wanted to go
back to Denmark, my husband
broke my arm.”
Her eyes were desperate. “You
are my last chance, Jennifer.
Please!”
“I will, you’ve got my word.
You’ll be free as...” I stopped. A
metaphor would seem trite.
“As free as you are, Jennifer? “
Sophie’s tone was bitter. “I’ve
seen girls like you in your little
uniforms, flying off to Rio and
Rome, living a life you were not
born to. But you will trade your
freedom like I did. You don’t value it.”
I embraced her –– as much to
stop her talking as to comfort her.
“Stay strong –– and fix your
eye makeup. Your mascara is running.”
The Danish Embassy in Paris
was on the Avenue Marceau. I told
a bored young consular officer I
had information about a Danish
national held against her will in
Iran. He didn’t react until he saw
the notepad. He excused himself
and left me sitting for nearly an
hour. He returned and spoke in
quick, clipped tones. The Danish
government appreciates your concern. We have taken the matter under advisement. We are keeping
the note as evidence. No, we cannot tell you the outcome. It is a
confidential matter. Good Day.
The embassy was closing as I
walked out. There was a cafe
across the street and I ordered a
glass of Merlot and glumly
watched as a guard came out and
began to lower the red and white
Danish flag.
I didn’t see the prim, middleaged lady slip into the chair beside
me. “I am Anna Holm, secretary
to the Ambassador. The young
woman you are trying to help is
the daughter of a very rich, very
influential Danish industrialist. He
disowned her when she married
this Persian man. He won’t help
her and if the Embassy does, there
will be trouble.”
“You mean he’s going to leave
her there to rot?”
“Yes. The Ambassador himself
called Mr. Madsen. Sophie defied
him and now he is punishing her.”
“But there must be something
you can do! You can’t allow this
to happen!”
“There is nothing to be done. If
somehow she gets out of the house
and to the Danish Embassy, it
would still be very difficult to get
her out of the country. These husbands hold all the cards.” She
groped in her purse and pulled out
a pack of Gauloise. Her hand
trembled.
“I know what I’m talking about.
My sister married a Moroccan she
met at the Sorbonne. She lives in
Rabat. We think. She has children.
We think. We have not heard from
her in five years –– not even a
Gledelig Jul. My mother keeps a
lighted candle in the window for
her day and night.”
“But surely you could help your
sister, with your connections.
Countries have to protect their citizens!”
Mrs. Holm patted my hand.
“You poor girl,” she sighed. “You
Americans think you can fix
everything. You must learn that
you cannot.” And suddenly, she
was gone. The only sign she had
been there was the cigarette, still
smoldering.
Time passed. The Shah fell and
the Ayatollahs ruled. American
hostages were paraded by Revolutionary Guards. Terrorists blew up
one of our planes over Scotland
and finally, Pan Am folded its
proud wings.
I married a well-known divorce
lawyer from Los Angeles. We had
a house in Bel Air and entertaining
for his firm become my occupation. Movie stars and moguls admired the gardens over cocktails
or cut deals by the pool at Sunday
brunch. I organized charity galas,
screenings and political fundraisers. My husband ruthlessly controlled the guest list. Fortunately,
my best friend –– my only real
friend –– was married to an A-list
producer. Emma Wexler met her
husband on a British Airways
flight. We shared everything ––
therapists, prescription drugs, and
our husbands’ infidelities.
“Do you ever miss flying, Jen?”
Emma became introspective on
her second martini.
“Not really. I don’t think about
it much.”
“Crikey, I do. I miss the freedom. Going where you want to go.
Every day different. Taking up
with whomever you fancy.”
“But it wouldn’t last,” I said.
Emma pondered her empty
glass. “And this will?”
“Come this way, Mrs. Nazari!
Rosita is ready for your fitting!”
Consuelo, the chief vendeuse at
Valentino, led a slim blond
woman towards the fitting rooms.
Twenty years had passed but I had
not forgotten Sophie Madsen
Nazari. The blue eyes were even
wider now, with the unblinking astonishment of the frequently
facelifted. “Sophie! Do you remember me –– Jennifer Galvin?
From Pan Am. We met in Tehran.
For years, I’ve wondered what
happened to you.” She stared and
when she spoke, her tone was
harsh. “Yes, I remember you. But
you couldn’t help. My father abandoned me.”
“But you’re here in the States.”
“Nothing has changed. We
came here just before the Revolution. Dara is a snake but he saw it
coming and we got out with our
money –– his money. Now I am
trapped in a house in Beverly Hills
instead of Tehran.”
She glanced towards the door
where a burly chauffeur waited.
“Sometimes I get out. But always
with company.”
“I’m so sorry. I tried.”
“I know you did. A woman at
the Danish Embassy in Paris managed to telephone me. When Dara
found out, he beat me senseless. “
“But this is America –– you
could get help.”
“Who will help me? My brother? He has my father’s money and
he hates me as much as he did.
You, Jennifer? The great hostess,
in the society pages! Perhaps your
husband, the famous attorney, can
do something! He handled Reza
Zahedi’s divorce last year. His
wife is penniless.”
I cringed. I knew what Stephen
did –– the fortunes saved or lost,
the lives wrecked. The ugly agreements made under a smokescreen
of Cristal and caviar that I created.
I did my job well. And I could lose
it at any time.
Sophie took my hand. “I thank
you, Jennifer. You took a chance
for me once. But no woman is really free.”
She turned and followed Consuelo into the fitting room. I could
feel the chauffeur’s eyes on me as
I left the store and started down
Rodeo Drive. And I knew he was
still watching as I began to run.
Anne Sweeney is president of
Anne Sweeney Public Relations in
South Brunswick. She is a member
of the Princeton Philadelphia
Chapter of World Wings International, the philanthropic organization of former flight attendants of
Pan American World Airways.
JULY 28, 2010
The Found Letter
H
by Elina Zismanova
is thoughts of a happy future interrupted, Mark knew he was lost.
“Lost, I’m positively lost.” Saying it
aloud, Mark couldn’t keep himself from
smiling in spite of being unable to see the
dirt road leading to the train station. He’d
taken his chances leaving Masha’s, his fiancee’s, dacha late at night. Mark knew he
had to make the last train to see his parents
before their trip to America. An invitation to
lecture at Princeton University meant a lot
to his father, but made Mark uneasy. It wasn’t hard for a world famous doctor and psychologist to become a foreign spy in the
eyes of the NKVD.
Dense woods surrounded Mark with
complete darkness and, surprisingly, deafening silence. A city man, he’d always
imagined the summer forest full of living
sounds with a star-lit sky and a shining
moon. But, not tonight. Lost in his thoughts,
he’d missed the spot where the dirt road
took a turn. Lighting a match, Mark looked
at his watch. Blinded by utter happiness,
he’d been walking for an hour instead of 20
minutes, without paying attention to the
softer ground under his feet. Mark lit a second match to see the way back to the dirt
road, but total blackness around him refused
to reveal the path. With a few matches left,
he fished a cigarette from a pack and sat
with his back to a wide tree trunk. Its base,
covered in soft moss, reminded Mark of the
old color-faded rug hanging on the wall
next to Masha’s bed. He sank his fingers in
the cool velvety fibers and could smell the
perfume in Masha’s hair. His cheek brushing softly against her breast when he leaned
to kiss her hand, her not moving away.
Blissful, he fell asleep resting his head on
the dry bark of the tree.
Dew drops on his face and loud trills of a
nightingale brought Mark back to reality
soon after the rising sun painted what he
could see of the sky a tender pink. He rose
stroking his stiff neck, stretching. Six in the
morning meant he could still make it home
before his parents left. Concentrating on
finding the train station, he pushed all
thoughts from his mind and started on a
wide path that brought him here the night
before.
How beautiful the forest was with the
light straining through leafy branches! Happy, how happy he was to be alive! This was
1939, and Mark was 23, on his way to a successful and fulfilling career. He’d followed
in his father’s footsteps and became a doctor. Once he finished graduate school and
received his own lab at the institute, his happiness would be complete.
A nearby train whistle jarred Mark from
his reveries and made him struggle through
thick bushes toward the sound. Reaching
the railroad tracks, he saw the sun and knew
in which direction to walk. Humming “My
Favorite Town,” he looked at the azure sky,
not a cloud in sight, and tripped on a rock,
but managed to stay vertical. Mark lifted the
offender, but dropped it when he saw a
small square of paper. “Please, deliver this
letter to Sofia Feinberg, Lenin Street 14,
apartment 5. Thank you.” Folded many
times. In neat small rounded handwriting.
Water-stained and faded in places, words,
still readable, looked solid, as if their writer
had thought about each letter before scribbling it on paper.
A 10-minute walk from his apartment,
Lenin Street was on his way to the hospital
where Mark had scheduled afternoon
rounds. He thought about dropping it back
on the ground, but stuffed the letter in the
inside pocket of his jacket and resumed
walking. The sheer feeling of happiness irrevocably gone, Mark strained hard not to
think about the fate of thousands of such letter writers, who’d disappeared, swept like
dust by a giant broom. Years of this monumental dust collecting throughout the country yielded tons of letters tossed out of train
windows, all traveling to Siberia. How incongruous this find felt with Mark’s disposition to be happy!
He reached the station and bought a ticket. Hungry and thirsty, he found babushka
selling milk and eggs near the tracks. The
milk, still warm, coated his throat with
hope.
“Papa,” Mark called entering the apartment. “Are you here?” No reply. Checking
U.S. 1
35
months ago a woman came to see me. Our
tended his hand and shook hers softly. “I
the dining room table, in case a note waited
first visitor in a year. She told me Joseph
found it next to railroad tracks outside the
for him, he strolled through the rooms
died in camp.”
city. You see, I was lost, and had to spend
breathing in the usual calm and quiet. For
“How did she know?” Mark wished he
the night in the woods.” He fell silent.
some reason, today his home didn’t evoke
could take Sofia in his arms and comfort
“Thank you, very much.” Sofia sat and
the same reaction as it always did: no sign
her. Why couldn’t he stop looking at her?
unfolded the letter. She did it fast, in one
of peacefulness penetrated him. Restless
Her soft solemn voice and almost black, but
movement, so not to prolong the torture.
thoughts flooding Mark’s mind, he heard
radiant eyes made him forget everything.
To give her privacy, Mark turned to the
the screeching of tires and imagined a black
“She’d managed to find out where her
boy and smiled. “What’s your name?”
voronok near wide heavy door of his build“Sasha, I am named after my grandfather husband was sent and traveled there. It
ing. Sounds of hurried clanking steps
helped to bribe the guards. They gave the
who died in the war. Are you sure your
banged in his ears. No. No. It’s a thing of
name is Mark and not Joseph? You look just couple two hours together. The husband
the past. Arrests have stopped already. The
begged her to find me. I suppose, I’m lucky
tidal wave that devoured multitudes of inno- like my father. And his name was Joseph.”
to know. Thousands have no idea whether
The little boy didn’t smile, just looked at
cent people and uprooted so many families
or not their loved ones are alive.” Sofia
Mark with diminishing hope.
had subsided. Safe as he could ever be,
“Sasha, my little one.” stirred her tea and looked at Mark. She
Mark only needed to get
Sofia rose from the table, picked a chocolate square and smelled it. “I
rid of the letter burning
haven’t tasted chocolate since... Sasha doestears glistening on her
his pocket.
All he wanted to do was
n’t even know what it is.” She placed the
young and bright face, a
Not wasting any time,
leave, deliver the letter
candy on her plate and reached for the letter.
calm, solemn face, as if
he ran down the wide
and run, far away from
she’d put her past suffer- “Joseph wrote about his illness. He knew he
marble staircase. Pausdidn’t have long to live.” Her voice broke,
ing behind and prepared
ing only to buy a box of
this poverty-stricken
but she didn’t cry. “I am grateful for what
herself for the future.
chocolates for his date
room, from the sorrows
you did in spite of the risk to you and your
“Sasha, here’s a photowith Masha later that
in the eyes of this
family.”
graph of your father,
night, Mark made his
Mark couldn’t tear his gaze away from
come look. You see, he
way to Lenin Street, a
woman, but he stayed,
her fingers, they caressed the sad gift he’d
had dark hair and dark
noisy populous thoras if nailed to the worneyes. He didn’t look any- brought her. “Sofia, let me tell you about
oughfare full of mothers
out parquet tiles.
thing like Mark Aleksan- myself.” He paced quietly from the table to
pushing baby carriages
the window and back. “This morning I
drovich here.” She
and children playing
thought I had it all figured out, I had a great
looked at Mark and
hopscotch. It enveloped
career path to follow and a bride from a dissmiled. “Can I offer you tea?”
Mark with an ever present human desire to
tinguished family.” He sat again and took
Already late for the morning rounds,
forget the grief and sorrow and return to
her hand in his. “Now, I’m happy I found
Mark gazed at her innocent and beautiful
normal life.
the letter, because it brought me to you.”
Taking two stairs at a time he raced to the smile, unable to tear himself away from the
He knew the risks he was taking –– assoroom. What kept him there rooted to the
third floor and stopped in front of the door
ciating with the family of an enemy of the
worn-out furniture, to the familiar-fromwith a brass “5” and a half dozen nametags
state, and the danger to his career and that of
childhood smell of books, to the dark eyes
with numbers on them. Mark scanned the
his father, to his comfortable future with
of the woman with a boy’s head on her
names and found “Feinberg - 6”, the least
Masha. No, there was no future there. His
shoulder? “Thank you, I would love some,”
noticeable nametag of all. He rang the bell
future was right here, sitting across from
Mark said noticing the child’s long curled
and waited. Not hearing any sounds behind
him and sleeping soundly on the couch.
the door, he rang again, twice. This time, he eyelashes trembling, the boy nearly asleep.
Sofia carried her son to the couch and
heard an irritated man’s voice: “Who is
Notes: NKVD - secret police; People’s
covered him gently with an afghan.
there?”
Commissariat for Internal Affairs
“He is so easily excited,” she said at the
“I am here to see Sofia Feinberg. Is she
Dacha - a summer house
door. “I’ll be right back with the tea.”
home?”
Voronok - a car used during mass arrests
“Let me help.” Mark followed her. He
The door opened a crack and a gray,
Born on Sakhalin Island in the Far East
hung-over face revealed itself together with wanted to see the kitchen, and even more
of Russia, Elina Zismanova grew up in
an unwashed sleeveless undershirt and long than that, he wanted to show the other innorthern Russia beyond the Arctic Circle.
habitants of the apartment that she was not
black briefs.
She moved to the U.S. in 1980 and now lives
alone. Since when wasn’t she alone? Since
“Are you blind? Or, can’t you read numin Highland Park with her husband and
half an hour ago?
bers, damned intellectual? The whore’s
four daughters.
“No, please, it’s nothing. I’d rather do it
number’s six!”
myself.” She pulled the door closed and left
“What does it mean her number’s six?”
Mark alone in the room with the softly snorMark had no idea what the drunkard was
ing boy.
talking about.
With nothing to do, Mark
“Son of a bitch! Ring six times to see the
looked at the framed photographs
Jewish whore.” He slammed the door shut.
on the wall. They looked like
Stunned, Mark pressed the bell six short
many photographs on many other
times and waited. The door opened soundSometimes Ben likes
walls of his friends’ and relatives’
lessly and he saw a thin young woman with
apartments. Family portraits, men
long black curly hair. Dressed in once stylto hang upside down
in military uniforms, girls, boys,
ish, but now nearly threadbare brown dress,
on his bed, so he can
couples. Yes, there they were,
she stepped aside to let him in and led him
“feel the sand”
Sofia and her husband Joseph, in a
through the vast communal corridor, overspill down his throat
boat, she smiling and he laughing
crowded with furniture, suitcases, bicycles,
at the camera, embracing her,
and such, to the farthest door on the right.
and into his cheeks.
holding her hand. Another one, of
“Sorry, I’ve never been to a communal
He is convinced
the three of them, with Sasha a
apartment before,” Mark whispered to the
tiny baby. How happy and alive
young woman.
that lives are kept
they looked. He stared at the last
“Papa, Papa!” He heard as they made
in hourglasses.
one, of Joseph leaning on a tree
their way through the threshold of the
trunk, looking away from the
woman’s room. A little black haired boy
He tells me “If I can reverse
camera. Did he feel his fate apwith his mother’s eyes ran to Mark with his
the sieve holding my life,
proaching? Did he know?
arms raised. “Mama, Papa’s finally home!”
for even a minute,
The door quietly opened and
Embarrassed and blushing, his mother
I can get some of the time
Mark could hear grumbling voichurried to pick up the boy.
es behind Sofia who quickly shut
“Don’t mind him, please. He can’t reback that I’ve lost.
it and rested a teakettle on a hotmember his father.” She paused and
Imagine, all the time
plate. She brought two cups,
searched Mark’s face. “What can I do for
saucers, and a sugar dish from a
you?”
we’ve wasted hiding in here —
All he wanted to do was leave, deliver the cupboard and poured tea. Then, as
imagine getting some of it back.”
an afterthought, she retrieved a
letter and run, far away from this poverty
small dish of jam and arranged the
stricken room, from the noises behind these
I watch his face turn red,
table.
thin walls, from the sorrows in the eyes of
his thin ears fill with blood.
“Sorry, we have nothing else. I
this woman, but he stayed, as if nailed to the
I tell him “Sit up.”
didn’t know you were coming.”
worn-out parquet tiles.
I beg “Ben,
“I have something for you,” he said, took She sat.
Feeling strangely at ease, Mark
the letter from his pocket and offered it to
don’t be stupid.”
sat opposite her. Then, he rememthe young woman. She slowly lowered her
But he swears he tastes them —
bered something and ran to his
son to the floor and almost unwillingly exdoctor’s case near the door. The
tended her hand to accept the unexpected
the grains in his mouth.
chocolates intended for his bride,
gift.
for Masha. The irony of the situaMark’s gaze never left her eyes that
I pretend
tion suddenly revealed to him
seemed to instantly fill with tears.
not to hear them crunching
what lay ahead. “I almost forgot.”
“Please, sit down.” Sofia, her son’s finbetween his teeth.
gers in one hand, motioned with the letter to He placed the box on the table and
took his cup.
an ancient armchair near a bookcase. Mark
— Lauren Mandel
“This is Joseph’s room. They
obeyed. The moment he sat in the chair he
Mandel grew up in West Windsor and is a
took him away when Sasha turned
felt a strong desire to open a book and margraduate of Interlochen Arts Academy in Michione,” said Sofia after a short siveled at the comfort and familiarity of the
gan where she majored in creative writing. She
lence. “First, his parents, then his
place.
now attends Washington College, studying psybrother, then him. My parents
“I’m telling you, it’s Papa,” the boy said
chology and writing and sings for her band It’s
quietly to his mother who still stood near the died when I was 12. I lived with
The Moon. Her hobbies are drawing, music, peran aunt, but she died last year. I’m
table, the letter yet unread.
forming at local coffee shops, and exploring landlucky they let me live here.” She
“Darling, this is...”
scapes, cityscapes, and dreamscapes.
needed to say all this. “Four
“Mark Aleksandrovich Tarasov.” He ex-
Ben Knows Too Much
36
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
Tales of the Workplace
A Shade of Blue
She paused, then folded her hands
and began her story of a woman
waiting for an elevator.
As the woman steps into the elby Robyn Spruill
evator she has a feeling of anxiety.
here were a lot of people in
Just as the elevator doors are comcafeteria taking their lunch
ing together a man breezes
breaks. The constant chatter through. Another man in the elesounded like a bunch of elemenvator recognizes him and they betary school kids at recess. Somegan to chat. She notices that the
how through the noise, Darrah
second man hasn’t pressed what
was able to hear her girl pals call- floor he needed. While waiting for
ing her over to their table. She inthe seventh floor she is intrigued
quired about the I Spy game. The
by how someone can get on an elethreesome’s game weekly game
vator and not press what floor they
had a slight variation on the origi- need. Okay, maybe the floor he
nal game. They alternated who
needs is already lit. He couldn’t
spied every week. There at the
possibly be going to her floor. He
cafeteria, they met every Friday at doesn’t look familiar. Maybe he
noon. The first 30 minutes was de- needs the fifth floor. The door
voted to playing I Spy. It was Deopens on the fourth floor and a desiree’s turn this week to entertain
livery person steps into the elevaher girls for half an hour of story
tor. She feels herself smiling as
telling. As Desiree silently chantshe listens to the man who didn’t
ed, SPY A GUY. SPY A GUY, both
press a floor button. His voice is
Vi and Darrah panned the room
smooth and raspy, almost velvetfor a victim.
like. The doors open on the next
“THERE” Vi shouts.
floor, the delivery person and the
She pointed toward a man at
first gentleman step out. Just bethe next table sitting alone. Both
fore the doors close, the man in the
Darrah and Desiree look in the di- elevator says he’ll see him later.
rection that Vi had pointed. DeShe looks at the button panel and
siree sighed and sat back. The oth- she notices that all the buttons are
er two women leaned in on their
lit. She looked over toward him,
elbows. They crossed their legs to
and he has a huge grin on his face.
get more comfortable. Desiree
They both stand there staring at
straightened up and took a sip of
each other until the sound of the
soda. She seemed to be staring inelevator reaching the next floor
to space. Her friends started to
makes her spin around. She practiclear their throats to snap her out
cally races out to the seventh floor.
of her trance. She smiled and nod- She turns back, and as the doors
ded to indicate she was ready to
close she notices a puzzled look on
begin.
his face. She thinks he might want
She said, “A smile or even a
to say something and just then the
wink could change everything.”
doors close. As
she walks down
the corridor, she
still wonders
which floor is
his. She shrugs
Short white coat, hangs up to the waist
off the mystery
Deep pockets, two on the sides one on the
man and heads to
front
her office cubicle
Ready reference manual, pocket size
to begin her
PDR
day’s work.
Pens black and red, flash light and tape
Desiree
stopped
talking.
Scrolls of papers with scribbled notes
She
had
a smile
Crumbled bills of gas and coke
on her face. She
Sometimes the ear ring, sometimes the
reached for some
ring
fries and took a
Watch or the chain, pair of gloves and a
long sip of her
face mask.
soda. Then she
continued.
Splattered blood from an arterial stick
At the end of
Making a design an intern’s art.
the day she gathSpilled coffee from the trembling hands
ers up her beOf the wife in shock when the loved one
longings and
wakes up
heads for the eleThe big black patch, the stain of miracle,
vators. There is a
The smell of the coffee soaking the white
warning notice
coat.
taped to the bay
doors. Elevator 1
Heart felt gift, a turquoise stone
is down for reFor easing the pain of the ailing mother
pairs. So she
Deep in the pocket smooth and soft
waits over by the
Tears of joy rolling down the collar.
bay 2 doors. She
looks up and sees
Candy wrappers, highlighter chopstick
that the elevator
and gum
is on its way up
Leaving their marks on history like paintfrom the lobby.
ing on the canvas.
She figures that
she would take
The pockets empty, the name tag in trash
the stairs to the
The short white coat thrown in the wash.
parking lot. As
Memories and stains no bleach can clean.
she opens the
door to the stairGraduated to long white coat, the resiwell, she can feel
dent’s coat
the cold from
Sparkling white with perfect buttons
outside. She
Neatly pressed collar, new name tag
hates taking the
stairs but she
The look, the touch, the smell and feel
doesn’t want to
The messy coat, the memory coat,
stand around eiThat is my canvas forever.
ther. So she tries
to focus on what
— Janaki Giri
she is going to
Giri is a hematology and oncology specialist
have for dinner.
in Old Bridge. She has lived in West Windsor
Just as she passes
for the past 22 years and has two sons.
the sixth floor
T
My Canvas
All You Have To Do
Never liked you much since you came to work for me.
No, I never liked you much since you came to work for me.
You think you’re so smart but you’re not as smart as me.
she hears the door open
and slam close above
All you have to do is just do what I say.
her. At first there are
All you have to do is don’t get in my way.
footsteps but then siIt’ll all be so easy if you just do it my way.
lence. No other door had
opened. What is the perYou say I don’t know what I want. Well, maybe I do.
son doing on the stairs?
You say I don’t know what I want. Well, maybe that’s true.
Her heart begins to race.
You’re so smart –– go figure it out. That’s all you have to do.
And the pounding in her
chest is the only sound
You say things are complicated. Well, I don’t see why.
she can hear. She slowly
You say you gotta think your work out. Well, I don’t see why.
starts walking down the
You just have to walk on water or make some pigs fly.
stairs. Hearing only her
Bobby gets me good numbers — makes them up faster than you.
own footsteps, she begins to relax. But then
They really prove my point — and he makes them up faster than you.
she hears footsteps. Not
He’ll get me a nice raise. That’s all you have to do.
hers. The other footsteps
You say you need praise for the good things you do.
are slow and steady. She
You say you need praise for the hard work you do.
quickens her steps and
Don’t need to tell my wife I love her — she knows it from how I
the other footsteps match
hers. She stops right at
screw.
the fourth floor. As she
Saw you’ve got some nice chocolates over there in your desk.
turns around, she isn’t
Always did love chocolates like those ones in your desk.
sure if she should sigh or
You don’t mind if I try one. I think this one’s the best.
panic. It is the man from
this morning who didn’t
See those towers of papers? They all need my review.
press what floor he wantGo to every meeting — see my calendar’s full, too?
ed. He doesn’t move to’Cause my opinion’s admired. That’s all you have to do.
ward her but she still
feels threatened. He
Know about your whispers. You all think you’re so shrewd.
apologizes for this awkYeah, I know about your lies. Know your plans to get me, too.
ward situation but exWell, you can’t win. Lie back down. That’s all you have to do.
plains that he had tried to
calling out to her before
Go walk yourself out. I can do my job and yours, too.
she went through the
You’re expendable here. I can do my job and yours, too.
stairwell door. But she
Just show me the On button. That’s all you have to do.
obviously didn’t hear
him. Still not sure what
— Dawn Cohen
do, she does nothing. He
Cohen is an IT security analyst at a small government contractor. She gentells her that it is not safe
erally writes fiction or technical documentation, with the occasional digresto walk the stairs alone
sion into poetry when she knows what she wants to say.
after hours. His voice
seems soothing but she
keeps up her defenses.
She forgot she was on the platform er of the suites on the 10th floor.”
“If you wouldn’t mind I could
She walks past him and stands at
when she went to retreat. He bewalk with you so you would feel
the door to the fourth floor.
gins
talking
about
when
they
were
safer,” he says.
“Would you mind escorting me to
She thinks, yeah, right. She tells in the elevator. She is still blinkthe elevators?”
him that she doesn’t need an escort ing. He continues talking as if he
He stares at her in question. He
hasn’t
just
kissed
her.
He
speaks
to her car. He shifts his stance,
opens the door and she steps incrosses his arms, and smiles at her. about the other man in the elevaside. He clears his throat, and she
tor. He was an old associate. He
He has no intentions of walking
turns to look at him.
takes a step toward her and smiles
her to her car. Hell he doesn’t
“The price to know my name is
again. She doesn’t say anything.
know where she was parked. He
admittance
to your executive
She
just
keeps
blinking.
He
wontells her he isn’t ready to leave the
ders if he could ask her a question. suite.” She winks at him and conbuilding. And once you walk out
tinues. “I’d rather use the elevator
She is still silent. Is he going to
the door locks behind you. He
instead of wasting energy taking
continue?
starts to walk down toward her.
Then he takes one more step to- the stairs to the 10th floor.” He
She still hasn’t moved. He continmotions her to pass and they walk
ward her, raises his hand, and
ues walking past and suddenly
to the elevators.
reaches over to her face. He grabs
turns to face her. He smiles again
and raises an eyebrow in question. the back of her head and presses
Desiree sat back in her chair
his lips to hers. After a moment, he and looked at her friends. Almost
She thinks, yeah, right follow him
releases her. After a moment, she
to her doom. What is waiting for
in unison both women wanted to
realizes her mouth is kissing air.
her at the bottom of the stairwell?
know what happened next. Then
She opens her eyes and smiles. He all of a sudden, the man at the othWhat if he posted the note on the
bay door so she would have to take gives a low laugh and leans into
er table walked over to the girls’
the stairs? No. That’s crazy! There
table. “Good afternoon, ladies,”
was only a note on bay 1. There
he said with a smile to Vi and Dar‘The price to know my
wasn’t a notice on bay 2. Standing
rah. As he walked by, he placed
name is admittance to
there looking at him she suddenly
one hand on Desiree’s right
feels a calmness come over her. It
shoulder. With his other hand, he
your executive suite.’
is his eyes. It is weird. She suddenplaced a business card face down
She winks at him.
ly feels warmth come over her. As
in front of her. When she lifted the
he starts toward her, he asks if she
card he bent down and whispered
is okay. She replies yes, but it
in her ear. He stood back up, nodcomes out stuttered. To seem more her. Her bag drops, and her body
ded to the other women, and
confident, she straightens her back shivers. Still smiling, he takes off
walked away.
his jacket and puts it around her
and flings her bag over her shoulDesiree looked down at the
shoulders. He makes a comment
der. Standing in front of her, he
business card in her hand. She
that she must be cold. She looks
tells her that he was wondering
quickly turned around in her
down at her blouse and she realsomething since earlier that day.
chair. He was standing by the enizes why he might think that. He
All she can think is, oh great, he’s
trance; he turned to look at Debends down and collects her bag.
attempting small talk. She wants
siree. He sent her a wink and a
to run but her legs won’t move. He Still smiling he walks back up the
smile! Her girls were beside themstairs. It occurrs to her that he nev- selves. One wanted to know what
takes a step toward her. And now
er asked his question.
they are eye to precious eye.
the card said, while the other
Looking up at him, she says,
Something is wrong with her. Her
wanted to know what he whis“Umm, you never asked me your
hands start to feel clammy as she
pered in her ear. Not waiting, Vi
question.”
gazes into his eyes. She feels like
grabbed the card. And Darrah
He lets out a laugh. “I wondered tugged at Desiree’s shoulder for a
she is in a trance. And for a brief
moment she wonders exactly what what your name was,” he says.
response.
“But looking at you standing becolor are his eyes. They are a reShe watched him walked out the
markable color. They seem to be a fore me all I could focus on was
door. Turning back to Darrah she
your lips and how I desperately
blend or maybe it is the lighting in
said, “He whispered, my eyes are
wanted to kiss you.” Shifting her
the stairwell. While she is lost in
just a shade of blue.” All three sat
belongings to his other arm, he
his gaze, he leans forward and
back in their chairs.
stretches out his hand and to introgives her a peck on the lips. She
Spruill is the sales and product
duce himself. “I’m David. I own
blinks so many times she can’t
coordinator
for the Oxford Princethe suites on the 10th floor.”
see. She takes a couple of steps
ton
Programme
at 101 Morgan
She replies, “Hello David, ownback and bumps against the wall.
Lane. She lives in Willingboro.
JULY 28, 2010
Watercress
Next to the stream,
iron bars cross the open
well shaft and shadow
thin and thinner down
its brick walls.
At the bottom,
sunlight has found
watercress, the color
of coiled moss.
From the woodland stream
that twists around rims
of hills, she pulls watercress.
It leaves a peppery tang
on her tongue; perhaps
its essence will rest in
her mouth to relish all day.
Who will pick the watercress
at the bottom of the well,
savor its flavor when the light
dims in an evening room
where an empty rocker moves
as if someone had just left,
and a fireplace embers
out the heat of before?
Shuttered windows drop
the dark and embers
shadow walls as still
as a feather in shale.
Shawled and capped,
(some would say
she was too young
for that), she seeks
God in oaks, rocks
and a pouring of water.
The rocking chair is still,
the embers have forgotten
their purpose, and the watercress nestles and nestles
beneath iron-crossed bars
that shadow thin and thinner
down the well wall’s brick.
Stillness tempts the writer
in her. Like a hermit crab,
she drags her borrowed
shell of words to the stream
and watches watercress
master the way the earth
moves, its tectonics.
— Marie Kane
Kane is the 2006 Bucks County
poet laureate whose work has been
published in The River Stirring,
The Bucks County Writer, U.S. 1
Worksheets, Wordgathering,
Schuykill Valley Journal, Hot Metal Press, the Delaware Valley Poets Anthology, The Meadowland
Review, two Philadelphia Inglis
House anthologies, and others. She
lives in Yardley, PA, with her husband, Stephen Millner, an artist.
Let Us Prepare
Night closes in,
as winter settles down.
All cozy creatures sleep
beneath the frozen ground
or in the hollow of a tree,
in a pocket, or a knee
of fallen trunk or twisted
arm
without a thought to care
or harm.
So let us prepare, for
when, we do not know,
might winter settle down
to sunless, endless snow?
— George Dabrowski
Dabrowski retired in January
2007 after 33 years on the railroad,
26 of which were in passenger service, under N.J. Transit since 1983.
The Poetry of Wildlife
The dancing rooted
forty-niners
New Jersey’s a subtle place
but it sings of wonders
akin to big bold places like
Greater Yellowstone or the Grand
Canyon
The hawk migration in October
converging over Cape May Point
and winging southward
the shore birds flying north
dropping down on Reed or Moore
beach
to gorge themselves
kneedeep in horseshoecrabeggs
No less replete in miracles
are the million acres
south central in the Garden
astride an aquifer
of seventeen
trillion gallons
of pure water
The flora in the Barrens
as fragile as it’s various
has names to suggest
a party to which you hope to be invited
Behold the brilliant and lovely
pink lady slipper
and its roots, oh the roots,
pitch pine and rose pogonia
Sandwort spatterdock and swamp
magnolia
turkeybeard and pyxie moss
inkberry and prickly pear
blueberry and black hackleberry
Cranberry beyond the yellow-eyed
grass
broom-crowberry and sweet pepperbush
bearberry and kay’s beak-rush
white cedar and fragrant water lily
Teaberry and Maryland meadow
beauty
orange milkwort and the sundews
the three can-do sundews
mountain laurel and arethusa
or the dragon mouth orchid
How closely have you viewed
the naked or horned bladderwort?
I See A Bug
I see a bug
hangin’ on to the blinds
sunnin’ himself
the sun shinin’ through the window
warms it up nicely
makes the bug think it’s summer
but he must know it ain’t
because he just hangs there
real tight too
I know
because I tried to
knock him off
with a duster
the sun’s warm, Now,
but he must know
it won’t last forever
so he just hangs on
for dear life
so I think for a moment
about this desperate bug
some kind of beetle
black with red stripes
Golden heather and grass-pink
bog-asphodel and blackjack oak
October blue gentian and false reindeer lichen
leatherleaf and pitcher plant
Let the sounds enrapture
as Robin’s hand and eye
capture the magic
of this anything but barren land
Jess’s works say yes
to our collective spirit
not to lose these pines
and flowers and water
to the squeeze of
the densest people-place on Earth
These images remind us
of all we have at stake
said through poster, card, exhibit
a joined regard for flora
that they may still
have their day
Knowing that every cubic centimeter
has ten godzillion times
more life
than all of planet Jupiter
Spurred by inner processes
Robin has heard these plants
invisible ’til now
the way Barbara felt the maize
Rosalind saw the double-stranded
helix
we have new forty-niners
those who will preserve
not tear the shallow valley apart.
— Scott McVay
McVay was founding executive director
of the Robert Sterling Clark Foundation
and the Geraldine R. Dodge Foundation.
He was the 16th president of the Chautauqua Institution. He is fascinated by the
songs of Nature, propelled by the six-octave Humpback whale’s song, and the
songs of humanity, driven by poetry of the
planet throughout history and today.
Editor’s note: In the poem above, Robin
Jess is an award-winning botanical illustrator from New Jersey. Barbara refers to
Barbara McClintock, who won the 1983
Nobel Prize in physiology/medicine for
work on maize cytogenetics. The person
saw the double-stranded helix is Rosalind
Franklin, who worked with Watson and
Crick on the 1953 discovery of the structure of DNA.
bright colors usually means bad
but this guy don’t do nothin’
except hang around
maybe he makes a bird sick
when the bird eats it
maybe not
maybe the bird just thinks
it’ll get sick
from eatin’ that bug
so I figure
I’ll get the vacuum cleaner instead
use the hose
to suck `em away
he hangs on for a sec
holdin’ on for dear life
but only a sec
then he’s gone
works like a charm
— Tim Allen
Allen is a part-time poet. He is a lifelong Mercer County resident and a graduate of Rutgers University. His poetry has
previously appeared in the 2007 U.S. 1
Summer Fiction Issue.
U.S. 1
37
Omnivores in
Rocky Hill
Maybe it was my new window, the
bay
that protruded from my kitchen, the
one
the home improvement company
had so much trouble
putting in. After the carpenters left,
I spotted them,
the mother with her bursting red
tail and three babies.
I don’t know which I saw first,
which
striped forehead, cavorting in my
bushes and
then all three of them pawing April
grass, jumping
as though their mother — and nothing else — could stop them.
Such wild creatures, so beautiful, I
would have paid
for orchestra seats just to see them
dance,
which they kept doing while I
looked them up
on the internet — omnivores. At
dusk, they scampered
into their den, which happened to
be under my shed.
I felt an electric fear of living with
what I could not control,
the wildness and possible harm.
But next morning,
when they ate possum and I ate
eggs, I knew
our natures could coexist.
— Joyce Greenberg Lott
Lott was a contributor to the first U.S.
1 summer fiction issue and is the author
of “A Teacher’s Stories, Reflections on
High School Writers.” The pups have
since been weened and can now be seen
throughout the neighborhood.
Hour Between
Goose and Wolf
(On U.S. 1 Highway, at Harrison Street
Bridge)
between my right wheel
and this metal barricade
something is moving
as officious as a nun
the tall determined wraith
bustles between car and rail
— something very wrong
as, overhead, her fellows
streak grey sky
she holds her left wing high
arced backwards
dark pinions all askew
white tufts strewing out behind
as she flees on foot
every few moments, she stops
poking her inky neck
between the cold sharp edges
of this ruthless rail
beyond which float
her unreachable, uninjured kin
I would stop rush-hour traffic
swoop my winged sister
into imperfect embrace
carry her to some safety
in the lake
— Carolyn Foote Edelmann
Edelmann serves as arts & education
associate at D&R Greenway Land Trust.
The first member of the community accepted into Princeton University’s Creative Writing program, she studied with
Ted Weiss, Galway Kinnell, and Stanley
Plumly. She has written on nature, travel, and history for U.S. 1 and the Packet
Publications. She is Co-founder of Cool
Women Poets.
38
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
Politically Incorrect
Clothes Make
the Man
T
by Allen Appel
he Lord tells Adam and Eve
that they may eat of the fruit
of any tree in the Garden of
Eden, except for the Tree of
Knowledge of Good and Evil, for
on the day they eat from that tree
they will die. But the serpent convinces Eve that the only negative
the fruit has is an excess of carbs,
which might make a beeline for
her hips, but surely won’t kill her.
Eve tastes the forbidden fruit, likes
it, and gives some to Adam. Having eaten, they suddenly become
aware of their nakedness, and they
are ashamed.
They can’t spend all their time
holding their hands over their differences so they invent clothes.
All the days that Adam
lived his attempts to be
dapper were frustrated
by Eve’s dress code.
They have to improvise, because
they have nothing from which to
copy, so they sew together fig
leaves and drape them over their
privates.
The Lord sees that they have
lost the innocence of ignorance,
which means they have eaten the
forbidden fruit. This transgression
cannot go unpunished, so He expels them from the Garden of
Eden.
Unlike Eden, which is climatecontrolled at a constant 76 degrees, the outside world has seasons, and fig leaves are poor insulation against a falling thermometer, so the Lord makes them garments of skins.
Having eaten of the forbidden
fruit, Adam and Eve can differentiate good from evil. They know
warm clothes are good, but they
can be a magnet that attracts evil,
for they have had a vision of a
fearsome creature called the PETA, which has a thousand glands
from which to exude spray paint
on humans clad in animal pelts.
This foreboding makes them sore
afraid.
They retain their fig-leaf garments perchance the PETA should
suddenly appear, which would necessitate an instant change.
And it comes to pass that their
fear of the PETA wanes and the
carbon dioxide they exhale triggers global warming. Skins can
still be worn comfortably but neither is it too cool for fig leaves.
Now they have an option, and they
know that options are good. They
can alternate their outfits, wearing
skins one day and fig leaves the
next. In order to keep track of what
to wear when, Adam invents the
first calendar. It is very basic,
however, having only a two-day
week: Leafday and Skinday.
As Eve awakens one morning
she observes Adam getting
dressed and she is aghast. “What
are you wearing?” she asks. He
smiles and points to the calendar,
to which he has added a third day,
Mixmatchday. For he has donned
his fig-leaf shorts with his deerhide shirt.
“Do you really intend to go out
of the hut dressed like that?”
“What’s wrong with it?” Adam
asks, setting a precedent for answering a question with a question.
“If that’s how you want to look,
go right ahead,” Eve replies.
Adam knows that when his wife
tells him to go ahead and do something, he’d better not. He doesn’t
understand how, since they both
ate from the same Tree of Knowledge, she developed an eye for
fashion while, to him, anything
that covers and isn’t ready for the
wash is appropriate. Genetics are
beyond their ken, so neither is capable of understanding that the
forbidden fruit mutated a gene in
Eve’s X chromosome, creating a
trait that would be passed from
mother to daughter unto the thousandth generation.
Adam examines his apparel for
stains and, not finding any, is confused. He knows that if he asks
Eve what’s wrong with what he’s
wearing she’ll just say, “If it isn’t
obvious to you, I’m not going to
tell you.”
He shrugs and asks, “What do
you think I should wear?”
“You can wear anything you
like,” Eve tells him, “But it’s a
good thing nobody else exists to
see you wearing a cockamamie
outfit like that.”
And all the days that Adam
lived were 930 years, during all of
which time his attempts to be dapper were frustrated by Eve’s dress
code.
We were dressing to go to a
cousin’s wedding. I had just finished tying my shoelaces when my
wife looked up and said, “You’re
not going to wear that shirt, are
you?” Since I had already put on a
tie it should have been evident that
I intended to wear that shirt.
“It doesn’t go with your suit,”
she said. I didn’t want her sulking
all through the affair so I took off
my jacket and tie, removed my
shirt, and replaced it with a white
one –– white goes with everything, right? I then knotted my tie
and presented myself for inspection.
“That tie is too wrinkled,” she
said. When you unknot then reknot a tie, of course it’s going to
get wrinkled. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll
change it.”
After changing my tie I had to
change my socks, which didn’t go
with the tie, and shoes, which didn’t go with the socks. We finally
left the house and got to the wedding half an hour late. Our hosts
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just gave me a blank look when I
told them we were late because
Eve cheated on her diet.
Allen Appel is a humor columnist and feature writer for “Encore Speaks,” the monthly publication of the Encore Monroe Adult
Community in Monroe Township.
He is a retired systems professional. His work has been printed in
past Summer Fiction issues as
well as in the Interchange section
of U.S. 1.
Home of the
Brave
(Inspired by Ander Monson’s
“To Reduce the Likelihood of
Murder.”)
by Jo Ann Povia
I
f I were brave, I would put
down my window blinds and
house paint and march straight
to customer service. I would tell
them about the seduction going on
in aisle five. Or, better still, I
would tell you — should tell you
— how to avoid the toothy grin of
the handsome Marine in uniform
carrying a business card and a sack
of possibilities in his pockets.
There are things you can do or
not do. First, do not get a job at the
local Home Depot next to the marine recruiting station just so you
can buy your sweetheart a charm
bracelet and add mag wheels to
your’96 Mazda. Do not take
smoke breaks outside the employee entrance where Lt. Recruiterman hangs. Do not talk to Lt. Recruiterman or smoke his Newports. Do not talk to Lt. Recruiterman about the North Ward or the
9-millimeter your brother keeps
stashed under the floorboards of
the abandoned house on the corner. Do not talk to Lt. Recruiterman about your charmed sweetheart or the black spot on your
Daddy’s lung. Do not tell him how
much you make an hour or that
you used to take computer courses
at night and kinda liked it. Look
away from the array of government-issued jewelry pinned to the
front of Lt. Recruiterman’s perfectly pressed dress blues. Do not
marvel at your reflection in the
polished gold buttons that divide
his chest into left and right. Lie to
Lt. Recruiterman when he asks
you, do you like the uniform?
Ask Lt. Recruiterman about his
other uniform. Ask him about the
If we were brave we
would storm the streets
with placards and
prayers and light fire to
the fuse of protest with
the heat of our voices.
uniform he was wearing when a
sniper’s bullet passed through his
buddy Dale’s skull before tearing
through the soft flesh behind his
own knee and exiting out his
kneecap. Ask Lt. Recruiterman
about the blinding pain from his
no-longer-there knee as he
crawled on his belly, dragging
Dale’s heavy, and limp as-a-sackof-cornmeal body. Ask Lt. Recruiterman about the shards of
bone and curds of brain that littered the sandy road like crushed
shells and bits of jellyfish deposited along a shoreline. Ask him why
he no longer enjoys walks on the
beach.
From March, 2003, to March,
2006, the death rate of military
personnel in Iraq was lower than
the death rate for an African
American man aged 20 to 34 in
Philadelphia. Do not pay attention
to statistics about urban neighborhoods. You are young and black
Politics
When I first started college I was lacking in ambition.
I didn’t want to be a teacher, lawyer, or physician.
I didn’t have a clue as to what I would like to be.
I settled for a non-specific liberal arts degree.
I found that I loathed literature and I detested lab.
I had no love of learning, but I had a gift of gab.
I majored and I minored in social interaction.
I found, in popularity, enormous satisfaction.
My non-descript diploma led to menial employment.
It paid enough to keep me fed but gave me no enjoyment.
I feared I’d spend my working life with boredom and with
tension
Until I watched a televised political convention.
Each speaker at the podium blared praise or condemnation.
Each time they paused for breath there was a thunderous
ovation.
Their ranting and their raving made no sense at all to me.
Then, in a flash, I realized what I was meant to be:
An orator, a statesman, not just a politician.
My words would free the world from its deplorable condition.
I penned a pious platform, but I found I had neglected
To formulate a strategy to get myself elected.
I had to learn the tactics of the campaign battleground:
How to spew out gibberish and make it sound profound,
How to make a looming tax increase taste sugar-coated,
How to contradict myself and claim I was misquoted.
Running a campaign requires an awful lot of cash.
Didn’t stand a chance to win with my depleted stash.
Struggled with my conscience like I never thought I would;
Told myself it’s justified — it’s for the greater good.
Promised a few favors in exchange for large donations,
Met with several lobbyists and fueled their expectations.
Sold my soul each time I made an off-shore bank deposit.
Argued with my conscience, then I locked it in a closet.
Waged a mighty TV blitz on network and on cable
Trashing my opponents as unsuited and unstable.
Took out lots of full-page ads that painted me as saintly.
Closed my mind and couldn’t hear my conscience sobbing
faintly.
All the noble things I’d do would justify my actions:
I would feed the hungry and bring peace to warring factions.
In another time and place most likely I’d be knighted.
Here, I was elected, but I also was indicted.
- Allen Appel
But bravery is a lost art, and the
and healthy and possess more potential than opportunity. You are a only people taking to the street
these days are white-haired folks
thing made for recruiting posters,
more concerned with the green in
and choruses of OohRaa! You are
their bank accounts than red blood
the target.
in the desert. Besides, we have so
Listen to your sweet-faced girl
much shopping to do. So you will
when she begs you not to sign up.
die. Hometown headlines will be
Do not sign the papers. When you
written and flags lowered. There
sign the papers, ask to be trained
will be a moment of silence in the
as a cook; cooks stay in the rear
heavy tools department.
and grill sirloins for visiting senaYou will die a good young man
tors. After you’re trained as a sapfrom a not-wealthy neighborhood
per tech, arm yourself. Cover
because you were born for it. Your
yourself from head to toe in
life was an atom meant for splitKevlar. Salvage the plating from
ting, the heat and light of a not-so
the vehicle graveyard and weld it
grateful nation.
to the sides, bottom and top of
your hummer. Wear the St.
Raised in Pennington and now
Christopher medal your grandfaa Ewing resident, Jo Ann Povia
ther wore in Vietnam and carry
worked in the hotel industry and
scripture from Reverend Hamilnow works for Mercer County.
ton’s bible. Make
sure to keep your
little sister’s rabbit foot in the
right pocket of
your fatigues and
your Uncle John’s
lucky harmonica
in the left. Do not
(With Apologies to Joyce Kilmer,
wear Superman’s
Ogden Nash, and Samuel A. Alito Jr.)
cape. Remember
you are just a boy
I think that I shall never see,
with nothing to
A sexy corporate entity.
prove. You must
In the matter of ogling,
wear the armor of
Achilles and carry
(At least for me)
the sword of King
I find for Shakira,
Arthur.
Versus AIG.
If we were
brave, we would
— George Point
storm the streets
Point is a freelance writer/editor who lives
with placards and
and works in Lawrenceville. He develops copy
prayers and light
for a variety of media.
fire to the fuse of
protest with the
heat of our voices.
On the Supreme Court’s
Interpretation of
Corporate Personhood
JULY 28, 2010
Can You Hear
Me Now?
L
Technobabble
by E.E. Whiting
ord Hillary Evenshot stared blankly at
the small black rectangle on the table
before him and thought “That’s the
perfect word, tangle, all those convoluted
directions that confront me.” His train of
thought instantly leapt to seashells and
smooth convolutions of pink and beige.
“Conch,” he said as he heard Hermione
approach his chair.
“Yes, darling, those new mobiles do
make one’s mind turn in upon itself, don’t
they?”
Lord Hillary had been pressured into getting this tiny torture device by nothing more
sinister than peer pressure, literally. Everyone at the House of Lords had harangued
him for months, if not years by now, to get
one. How convenient, they said, it would be
for him to be able to be in touch at any given
moment with everyone. “More like how
convenient for them to interrupt me at any
given moment that suits their schedules,” he
had muttered as he had watched his fellows
leap and twitch at the oddest and most awk-
ward of moments, fumbling for their phones
desperately as though not answering them
would be tantamount to ceasing to breathe.
He had seen this happen innumerable
times and at the most ludicrous of moments.
Old Dunmore Throop, 23rd Marquis of
Mayfield, had actually felt compelled to try
to take a call during a call while answering a
call of nature. It had resulted in his losing
his grip, literally, to disastrous consequences for the pair of handmade Church’s
standing next to him, which happened to belong to a chap named Brown. Lord Hillary
had never really known anyone to leap as
high from a standing start as Brown and he
had come to the conclusion that the fellow
must have been quite the athlete at school.
Hillary had never really been able to figure
out what that man did within those hallowed halls but had decided that his athleticism must have had something to do with
his going into contortions during question
time.
But time and pressure create diamonds
and crack the hardest walls, so Hillary had
succumbed. His foray into the mobile store
had been an exercise in reaching new levels
of dumbfoundedness. The array and the
multiplicity of options had rendered Lord
Hillary immobile in the middle of the floor.
The well meaning clerk had asked what was
to him a simple question, “Do you want a
smart phone?” Hillary had gaped at him
openmouthed and the train of thought had
throttled off to consider the kind of educational testing phones were subjected to.
The well meaning clerk had asked what was to him a simple
question, ‘Do you want a smart phone?’ Hillary wondered what
kind of testing phones were subjected to.
U.S. 1
39
What would the O level for a telephone be
like? Was there much competition among
phones for places at Oxford and would all
the other phones refuse to call a phone that
had been sent down for serving the Don’s
cat catnip laced with absinthe.
Hillary had replied stammering, “Yes,
quite, I’d rather not have a stupid one. Trinity or All Soul’s is fine.”
He had ended up with the small black
rectangle lying on the table in front of him.
After several hours of trying to make it say
something intelligent, Hillary was beginning to think that his phone was not as gifted and talented as the others. It supposedly
could respond to voice commands but the
only commands it seemed to be able to perform so far were “Sit” and “Stay.”
“My old Rufus could shake hands, fetch
my slippers, and ride a horse,” Lord Hillary
mused, remembering his beloved Manchester terrier who had had a marked propensity
to want to ride behind him on Widowmaker.
Brave Widowmaker, the mighty steed of his
youth, whose thundering tread at a walk
was due more to his weight than rippling
muscles in his flanks. Hillary had dreamed
of careering off along the roads within his
Grandmother’s estate, the drum of WidowContinued on following page
RO AND JULIE: A TWEET MODERN ROMANCE
Note: The author was challenged at last year’s summer
fiction party to create a story written entirely in the style of
the 140-character Tweets found on the popular social networking site, twitter.com. Accordingly, "Ro & Julie: A
Tweet Modern Romance" is a playlet based on “Romeo and
Juliet” composed entirely of mock Twitter postings.
Setting: Verona High School, Veneto, California
The Characters in This Family Feud:
Ro17: Roland Montague
JulieXO: Julie Capulet
merQTo: Mercutio Montague, Ro's twin brother
TybALT: Tybalt Capulet, Julie's nasty cousin
TheMan: High School Principal Escarole
Mr.M: Mr. Montague, English teacher
NurseC: Ms. Capulet, school nurse
The Montague and Capulet families are forever making
scenes . . .
SCENE 1: THURSDAY MORNING
TheMan Hurling insults at each other AGAIN, Capulets
& Montagues? A plague on all your lockers! Detention, today. BE THERE!
Ro17 All Monties have #detention!
merQTo @Ro17 But I'll miss #dramaclub! Come on,
@TheMan! We're doing Shakespeare! :- (
JulieXO OMG! All Caps have #detention? Tisn't fair! I
wasn't there! (Does anyone care?)
TybALT @JulieXO Blast!!! There goes #fencingteam
practice!!! @merQTo, you're to blame for this!
merQTo @tybALT Oh so glib, dear Tyb, but you
*know* that's a fib! ;- )
SCENE 2: THURSDAY AFTERNOON
TybALT Detention — what a waste of my valuable
time. Am I rehabilitated yet? . . .
Ro17 @merQTo Who's the goddess-like Capulet with
the golden hair, the Malibu Barbie complexion, the Pepsodent smile, the eyes like stars? . . .
merQTo @Ro17 That's *Julie*. (Ooo! SOMEbody's in
love-Love-LOVE!)
Ro17 @merQTo I never really cared til now! I've got to
meet her soon — and how!
JulieXO @TybALT I pray thee, who is that marvelous
Montague with the puppy dog eyes? . . . <3
TybALT @JulieXO That dog's backside? *Rollie*?! O
my guts, O my spleen, O my — bleechhhh! 8- C | #IHateMontagues
[Ro17 is now following JulieXO's tweets on Twitter.]
[JulieXO is now following Ro17's tweets on Twitter.]
SCENE 3: THURSDAY NIGHT
JulieXO @Ro17 Well. I'm home in bed. Are you in bed?
...
Ro17 @JulieXO Yep, I'm home in bed too. Guess you
could say we're in bed together! LOL
Ro17 @JulieXO Uh, Julie?
Ro17 @JulieXO Juuuuulie?
JulieXO @Ro17 O Ro, let's talk about . . . #love! <3
Ro17 @JulieXO Oh –– uh, . . .
JulieXO @Ro17 Yes, yes?
[Twitter Error! Something is technically wrong. Please
try again later.]
Ro17 @JulieXO Parting is such a sorrow . . . and here it
is, already tomorrow!
JulieXO @Ro17 *yawn* (sleepy) You say goodnight
first. : )
Ro17 @JulieXO No, you say it.
JulieXO @Ro17 No, U say it!
Ro17 @JulieXO No, U — OK. G'nite, Julie.
JulieXO @Ro17 Nighty-night, Ro.
SCENE 4: FRIDAY MORNING
Ro17 R + J = love. #Math finally makes sense! :- D
JulieXO Ro is my beau — let everyone know! <3 <3 <3
| #ILoveMontagues
*
*
*
TheMan Votes are in, people: Good judgment notwithstanding, the King and Queen, rulers of this Saturday's Junior Prom, are . . .
TheMan Roland Montague and Julie Capulet! (Yeesh!)
*
*
*
merQTo Ro and Julie, King and Queen, O glorious day!
| #JuniorProm
TybALT Ro with Julie? It's obscene — I'll make him
pay! | #JuniorProm
SCENE 5: FRIDAY LUNCHTIME
TybALT Well, well, well: it's Roland the Lover! Is it
true that red is the color of love?
Ro17 @TybALT Uh, yeah. So what?
TybALT @Ro17 I offer you a rare conceit: wear your
heart where all can see't!
Ro17 @TybALT Huh?
merQTo @TybALT Now, now, now, Tyb. Let's turn
that frown upside down! | #peace
TybALT @merQTo Butt out, "Cutie"! @Ro17, I squirt a
big red heart on your shirt with ketchup!!! Ha ha ha
haaaaa!!! | #war
merQTo @Ro17, you deflected his arm! My #SpongeBobRules T-shirt and genuine Squidward tie are RUINED!!! I HATE you!!! >:- #
TheMan Roland Montague, you are hereby suspended,
effective immediately!
TheMan No Junior Prom for you, Mr. Montague.
Ro17 @TheMan But I didn't DO anything!
merQTo RT @TheMan No Junior Prom for you, Mr.
Montague.
TybALT RT @merQTo RT @TheMan No Junior Prom
for you, Mr. Montague.
JulieXO RT @TheMan, via merQTo & TybALT No Junior Prom for you, Mr. Montague.
TheMan Enough with the retweeting already! Noses
back to the grindstone, people.
SCENE 6: FRIDAY AFTERNOON
NurseC @JulieXO Remind me again, O my lovesick
daughter, why we can't just . . . um, *talk*?
by Bill Waters
JulieXO @NurseC B/c it's, like, the 21st century now,
Mom. 'Kay? Hey, are those sleeping pills?
NurseC @JulieXO Never you mind about those, missy.
You're here why? . . .
JulieXO @NurseC Could I have an Advil, please? My
head hurts.
NurseC @JulieXO Your head . . . or your heart?
JulieXO @NurseC Now you're just being embarrassing.
thanxgottagobye!
SCENE 7: SATURDAY EVENING
TheMan Where's Mercutio Montague, our substitute
Prom King?!
merQTo Help! Tybalt locked me in the janitor's closet!
I'm Ro's bro, the "king pro tem"! Free me, free me . . . (sob)
| #LifeStinks
*
*
*
Ro17 Home alone and banished from the prom; nothing
to eat, nothing on TV, PC has a virus . . . (sob) | #LifeStinks
*
*
*
TheMan And where's Julie Capulet, our Prom Queen?
Come ON, people!
JulieXO @Ro17 If you can't go, then I can't make it. I
swiped a Lunesta, and now I take it. Goodnight, sweet Ro.
(sob) | #LifeStinks
O what a story
of ruin and woe
for Ro17
and his JulieXO.
EPILOGUE: SATURDAY EVENING
TheMan Please give a big Verona High cheer for our
NEW King and Queen of the Junior Prom!
TheMan He's a Montague, she's a Capulet, and they're
both available RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW — that's very
important, people!
TheMan I give you — Mr. M., English teacher extraordinaire, and Verona's own Florence Nightingale, Nurse C.!
*
*
*
NurseC @MrM Hmmm, I'm a single mom, you're a single dad . . .
MrM @NurseC We're dancing cheek to cheek (as it
were), the envy / embarrassment of all we survey . . .
NurseC @MrM High school was never this good the
first time around! LOL!
MrM @NurseC This might just be the start of something
#beautiful! :- D
TheMan Maybe now we'll finally have some peace between the Montagues and Capulets. Yeesh!
Bill Waters is a senior copywriter for Films for the Humanities & Sciences in Hamilton and lives in Pennington
with his wonderful wife Nancy and their three amazing cats.
You can find him on Twitter at http://twitter.com/Bill312,
where he posts his haiku. "I apologize," says Waters, “for
any sense of inaccessibility due to the conventions of Twitter. I'm hopeful that Shakespeare's timeless story of love
and loss, retold over the centuries in every conceivable
manner, will once again prove its adaptability — Twitterspeak and all.”
40
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
Limericks for Our Time
I
What’s a Kindle and how do you ride it?
Side-saddle or sitting astride it?
It’s a book without pages?
That’s simply outrageous!
How can a booklover abide it?
II
People are playing with Wii,
Opponents they can’t even see!
Look, that ball’s comin’ atcha,
Help, where is my catcher?
Go find a real partner for me!
III
You may ask what the hell is a Droid,
does that mean you haven’t yet hoid?
No, it’s not just a phone,
why its features alone
make my brain feel it must be a boid’s.
IV
I feel like an old brontosaurus,
confused by a world not made for us.
Not an app do I know,
here’s as far as I go,
I’ve no need to go searching for tsurus.
— Rice Lyons
Lyons leads “The Wonder of Wordplay,” a workshop in poetry
that she’s offered at the Princeton Senior Resource Center for the
past 10 years. She is a retired administrator from Princeton University, where she also taught “LAFF, Life After 45: Classes for
People Who Like to be Happy.”
know the most urgent and vital of
information about you without
which they cannot continue to live
maker’s hooves beating a dread
productive lives. You use a
tattoo, and having his faithful
strange new vocabulary to reduce
hound ranging far and wide in
the number of characters by which
search of danger. The reality was
you impart this critical informaRufus’s penchant for settling in
tion because you have only 140
for long, leisurely snoozes on
available. Apparently people are
Widowmaker’s broad rump.
riveted on what you have to say as
No, clearly this phone had the
long as you don’t take up much of
IQ of a newt and that was probatheir time saying it.”
bly an insult to newtdom.
“Tweet, you say. How do you
Hillary turned to Hermione and decline that? Tweet, twait, have
opined as such. She looked at the
twooten?”
screen of the phone that was wall“I suppose so, my love. Why
papered with application icons.
don’t you try it?” She pressed a
“Why did you get so many feabutton, not on the phone but on the
tures, my dearest? A few are usewall and Cyrus appeared.
ful, such as the one that lets you
“Cyrus, do you tweet?” she
find pizza in
asked.
the middle
“Occasionally,
of the Hemadam,” the stalBut, dearest, why would
brides. But
wart valet said,
I want to send a short
why do you
“but not if I can
need an apmessage to anyone via a
help it.”
plication that
“But it’s the
mobile phone? Imporgives you
rage
supposedly,”
tant information should
the shoe
said Hermione.
sizes of hisbe delivered face to
“The smart set is
torical perdoing it all the
face, such as ‘You’ve lit
sonages?”
time and I think
your mustache and not
“Well,
Hillary should try
darling, I
your pipe.‘
it.”
was listening
“But, dearest,
to the chap
why would I want
at the mobile store tell me how
to send a short message to anyone
clever this phone was and how it
via a mobile phone? Important inwould expand my ability to know
formation should be delivered
things. I thought how great it
face to face, such as ‘Fore!’ or
would be to have the knowledge
‘You’ve lit your mustache and not
of the world at my fingertips and
your pipe!’ I don’t think writing
fingers reminded me of feet and
out messages is efficient. I don’t
then I thought how a smart phone
think we would have won Trafalwould permit me to learn how to
gar if Nelson had had to send bird
leave a smaller carbon footprint
calls to his officers instead of roarand so I said ‘Step ahead’ and he
ing out ‘Hard about’.”
loaded down this shoe appliance.”
“Well, I agree, darling, but as I
“Application, darling, is the
said it’s considered quite smart to
term, I believe,” Hermione said,
do this.”
not wanting to show off her
“Cyrus, can you help me?”
knowledge of things cellular.
Lord Hillary asked
“Have you tried to tweet?”
“Yes, sir, immediately, sir.”
Hillary was stunned into siCyrus reached over and turned off
lence. He normally followed her
the phone.
train of thought as easily as she
“Quite smart of you, old chap,
did his. Hermione wanted bird
quite smart.” Hillary said, rolling
calls? At this hour?
on the floor laughing out loud.
“I haven’t felt the need to of
E.E. Whiting is one of U.S. 1’s
late, my dear, but if you insist, I
summer
fiction readers and a frecan try my meadowlark.”
quent
contributor
to U.S. 1. Lord
“No, no, sweetheart, tweeting is
Hillary
and
Hermione
have apthe newest thing whereby you
peared
in
several
Summer
Fiction
send messages to everyone and
issues.
anyone you want, letting them
The Marvels of Everyday Life
Mailboxes
S
by Darcy Cotten
ometimes to spice up my
dull morning commute, I decide to take as many back
roads to work as I possibly can. I
cut out all roads that have traffic,
and drive through back roads in
little residential neighborhoods. I
start in Mercerville, continue
through West Windsor and Plainsboro, until 40 minutes later I reach
my Princeton destination. I am
forever amazed at the creativity of
uncreative people and how they
try despairingly to put their personal stamp on their homes — via
the mail box. What they don’t realize is that the mailbox can speak
volumes about the person/s that
resides in the house. It’s a showcase of personal outdoor fashion.
Honestly, I can pretty much judge
a person by his or her mailbox.
Here is my personal critique of the
2010 mailbox roadway fashion:
The OPENED MOUTH
BASS mailbox. For this type of
mailbox the mouth of the fish is
actually the opening of the mailbox. One has to reach in the bass’
mouth to place any mail inside. A
joy for the mailperson, especially
if a woman, I’m sure. It’s the mailbox of a husband and wife who although live together, actually prefer to live their own separate lives
yet remain together.
For the man it clearly states “I’d
rather be fishing than spend time
with my wife.” From the women’s
perspective, “He can have his stupid mail box as long as he doesn’t
complain or question that I spend
$50 a month on my nails and $180
every other month on my hair.”
It’s a compromise from both sides.
The DARTH VADER mailbox. Believe it or not, there is a
mailbox that although it is made
from scrap pieces of metal, it
looks identical to the head of
Darth Vader. Certainly a Star
Wars fanatic — and obviously
single — this mailbox speaks of a
fanatic freak that has refused to
grow up. This person most likely
has one room in the house devoted
strictly to Star Wars paraphernalia
and collectible items along with
several other collections of action
figurines. It also states that this
person is single and will remain so
until a more grown up mailbox has
replaced the childhood fantasy
mailbox and all memorabilia has
been removed from all shelves and
sold at auction on eBay.
The TRACTOR mailbox. The
tractor mailbox is the manliest of
all mailboxes. All farmers, along
with their “farmers tan,” will always believe their tractors are the
only thing sexier than they are.
Male farmers, in particular, like
anything with a big engine and believe that it is a personal statement
of their manhood. This obviously
is a one-sided opinion. They also
believe that the only thing they
could love as much as their tractor
is a faithful dog or a wife that can
cook. Tractor, dog, wife-in that order. The good news is that the
good old girls they are married to
don’t mind because they find their
big engines sexy too. What better
way to advertise they are having
great sex? The mailbox says it all.
“Voom, vroom.”
The DOG mailbox. Man’s
most faithful companion is now in
the form of a mailbox. Like the
large mouthed bass mailbox, the
dog mailbox opens by way of the
dog’s mouth. These mailboxes be-
long to retired couples who are
now grandparents and who believe that the only thing cuter than
their grandbabies are their miniature lap dogs, which have now become their children, and are treated with as much care and love as
an actual baby. Along with their
“oh so cute” mailboxes, their
yards are adorned with every kind
of tacky plastic lawn gnome, frog,
flower pinwheel, and pink flamingo that the local dollar store sells.
Small children seem to gravitate to this yard to play with the
bright magical plastic wonders
that are changed according to the
season. Dog mailbox owners are
the happiest of all mailbox owners.
The BASKET mailbox. The
basket mailbox is the surest sign
that you are living next to a “country bumpkin wannabe.” This owner has removed all remains of the
standard post-n-mailbox and has
now fastened a woven basket to
the front door in hopes that their
home will now appear more
quaint. These individuals believe
they can convert their neighborhood into Mayberry RFD, and that
by making the mailman come up
the steps to deliver the mail, it is
actually giving the impression that
they live in a friendly small town.
Their homes are filled with cute
reminders of an era gone by. They
typically display baskets of eggs
on their kitchen counters, have
miscellaneous baskets hanging
from their kitchen ceilings, and
they use large wicker baskets to
The bucket mailbox is
usually owned by a
male who has recently
been divorced or
dumped. It’s apparent
that the female in the
relationship has taken
anything of value, including the artistically
decorated mailbox
carry their air-dried laundry in
from the clothes line. These individuals secretly hope that the
“Milk Man” will someday make a
“come back.” Beware of the “Basket Mailbox Person” — they tend
to be sentimental maniacs and will
drown you in home-baked goodies
and leave you feeling guilty for
having bought store brand items.
The only people that like “Basket
Mailbox People” are those that are
“basket cases” themselves.
The OVERSIZED mailbox.
One cannot buy this type of mailbox at a local hardware store. In
this case, the local mail person
would have had to replace standard mailbox with one that is the
size of a 32-inch square TV to allow enough room for the daily
mail to be delivered and inserted
into the mailbox, which does not
include the special deliveries that
come via the UPS man. The people who own an oversized mailbox
are agoraphobic shopaholics.
They never leave the house — only to go to work during the week
and attend church on Sunday
morning. Everything else in their
lives can be handled from their
computer by a single click of the
mouse, or by catalog shopping.
Rarely is this person ever seen
outside. When spotted, these people seem to be proportional to the
size of their mailbox.
The CONCRETE mailbox.
Concrete mailboxes are made of
solid stone from top to bottom
with a standard mailbox built into
its frame. The owner of a concrete
mailbox is a very insecure, pessimistic person. This person has a
subconscious fear that no area of
his or her life is stable. They also
have a great fear that the world is
out to get something from them ...
possibly to steal their mail. They
have protected their mailbox as
best as they possibly can from any
delinquent that might attempt to
destroy the mailbox itself.
These people will forever be in
therapy. They will personally
hand deliver all bills and letters
that do not have a proper PO Box
for fear that the recipient does not
have a secured mailbox. Take
note: these individuals are usually
OCD and germaphobics as well.
The inside of their house is comparable to an operating room in a
museum.
The PO BOX mailbox. The
PO box holder is a complex individual. There are several possibilities as to the personality types of
these individuals. They either (a.)
are too busy to check their mail on
a daily basis from constant travel
abroad, (b.) have downsized their
lives to living in an apartment
complex, (c.) live in a neighborhood feared by the Concrete Mailbox owner (where all mail has the
potential of being stolen), or (d.)
lead a secret life that they want no
one to find out about. The (d) type
PO Box holder may even be a
“dual mailbox owner” with a standard mailbox for “normal appearances” and have a PO mailbox for
mysterious mail. These people believe their secretive PO Box life
gives them an edgy, dangerous demeanor that makes others think
they are of high importance.
The BUCKET mailbox. The
bucket mailbox is usually owned
by a male who has recently been
divorced or dumped. It’s apparent
that the female in the relationship
has taken anything of value from
the relationship, including the artistically decorated mailbox,
where she probably found a love
letter addressed to the current
male occupant, and has packed her
bags, and left for good.
The abandoned male has become so depressed and distraught
by the flight of “the only woman
he has ever loved,” that he quite
frankly “no longer gives a shit”
about anything, and has replaced
his old mailbox with any old thing
that will “make do.” Thus, the
bucket duct taped to the wood post
where the once Standard mailbox
was attached. What the male does
not know is that female passersby
see this “lack of a real mailbox” as
laziness on the male’s part, and
will not even consider anyone
with a bucket mailbox for mating
or any type of relationship.
The MULTIPLEX mailbox.
The owner of multiplex mailboxes
thinks of himself as a cultured person. This person has a “standard”
mailbox next to two to three additional mailboxes that list the individual names of newspapers that
are delivered to that particular address, ie, The Times, The New
York Times, and The Philadelphia
Inquirer. (It’s the condo villa of
mailboxes).
This particular owner prides
himself in the self perception that
he/she is smarter than everyone
else in the neighborhood. The fact
that this owner has one or more
newspapers delivered on a daily
basis solidifies the fact that he/she
JULY 28, 2010
Summertime Treats
At a picnic, you’ll see
watermelon’s for me.
Ice cream flavors galore
leave me screaming for more.
For cobbler with peaches,
my hand always reaches.
Glazed doughnuts with jelly
would sure please my belly.
I can’t think of a sweet
not considered a treat.
But it’s time to confess
chocolate mousse is the best.
Summer brings fresh choices,
tempting treats with voices
luring me to ponder
of which one I am fonder.
A ripe strawberry tart
would, indeed, steal my heart.
A banana cream pie
is a joy to my eye.
Cherry crumble sublime
hits the spot every time.
Homemade raspberry ice
is also very nice.
The fruit pies I adore
thrill me right to the core.
To a parfait with flair
there is naught to compare.
Mixed berries with whipped cream
is indulgence supreme.
Cheesecakes are a pleasure,
all cookies, I treasure,
and for roasting outdoors
my beloved s’mores.
is cultured and up-to-date on the
most current events. Seldom does
this person have much in common
with others that live in houses with
only one mailbox.
The STANDARD mailbox.
The most common of all mailboxes is the standard white/black/metal mailbox on either a wooden or
plastic post. These home owners
are the ordinary people of the
world. The “norms” of society.
Their mailboxes state that they are
everyday, hardworking, middle
class people, who are not out to
prove anything to anyone. When
they do get into a creative vibe
they sometimes will decorate the
standard mailbox with hand painted pictures, or drape magnetic pictures over them to make it appear
that they too lead an interesting
life.
These are the sanest of all mailbox owners. The standard mailbox
owner views “out of the ordinary”
mailboxes as a sign of fun, but also as a sign of mental illness and
takes note of what type of mailbox
not to own, no matter how much
they enjoy looking at them.
Darcy Cotten, a graphic designer for Princeton University,
enjoys painting, cartooning, and
writing poems and literature. She
also volunteers for Mercer County
Special Services School District,
and is an active board member for
Riding High Farm (a therapeutic
riding facility for individuals with
special needs).
Reinventing the
(Cart) Wheel
T
by Chelle Martin
here’s an old friend,
George, who I run into from
time to time. Since retiring
— heck even before that —
George has been the epitome of
the backyard inventor. From selfwatering flower pots to ab busters,
George has claimed to have
“thought of it first.”
Now I’m not saying it’s not
possible that George might have
entertained these million-dollar
ideas, but I’ve yet to see him register a patent or provide evidence of
any compensation for his moments of brilliance.
Just this past week, I met
George at McCaffrey’s at the
Princeton Shopping Center and, as
usual, the conversation quickly
steered toward a new innovation
when he saw my cart with the wiggly wheel.
I’ve been thinking of late,
it’s a cruel twist of fate,
that a moose of a beast
bears the name of my feast.
— Barbara Nuzzo
Barbara Nuzzo lives with her husband Ray in
North Brunswick. She’s a founding member of Sisters in Crime-Central Jersey and writes mystery
stories that have appeared in US 1, Woman’s
World Magazine and other popular venues. Her
non-fiction stories and poetry have found their way
into several anthologies. She loves to travel and escapes to far off places whenever possible, which
fits well with her job as a travel consultant.
Church Bells
The church bells call
the local sinners to the
11:00 Mass.
If the wind blows Northwards
the few blocks to my
house:
I can hear their resolute
clang
calling for a visit.
I open the font door
and listen to the truth in its
sound.
With closed eyes,
“You know, Lily,” he began, “I
have an idea that would fix all
these carts once and for all.”
Knowing better than to encourage him, yet intrigued by the notion of not having to grind my
teeth while forcing an uncooperative cart through the store, I relented to my curiosity by uttering a
simple, “Oh?”
“Inflatable tires,” he said, and
then proceeded to describe some
doohickey or other that would prevent the wheels from becoming
stuck in one direction.
“And bumpers, so if the cart
gets loose in the parking lot, it
won’t damage your car.”
I was liking this idea, but of
course, I had to throw a wrench in
the works.
“What if the cart gets a flat
tire?” I asked.
George scrunched up his face.
My imagination drifted to
thoughts of the store manager calling for, “Tire repair, aisle 6, tire
repair needed in aisle 6.” To which
a store employee whose sole responsibility would be acting as the
triple A of shopping carts would
arrive in a miniature emergency
vehicle with flashing lights. Upon
assessing the situation, he’d then
procure a tiny jack and a spare to
get you on your way again. Heck,
maybe they’d even give you a
loaner cart and help transfer your
groceries to it. I wondered, would
there be much paperwork involved? Would you have to join
the Shopping Cart Club of America?
Tires aside, I asked, “What are
you making the bumpers out of?
Are they like little air bags?”
Again the face scrunch.
“Actually, I was thinking Styrofoam pads made from recycled
I stand and receive.
For eleven seconds
I’m redeemed, cleansed;
pure of soul.
The air is quiet and composed around me.
And the world is good,
transparent and decent.
The moment delivered.
I close the door and go
about
my purposeless life till
next week; when I’ll have
another
eleven seconds of faith.
— Darcy Cotten
peanuts. Just for the corners of the
cart. This is where the impact
mostly occurs.”
“And you’d be advocating being green,” I said.
“Green?”
“The recycled peanuts?” I reminded him. “Though I’m not
sure Styrofoam is really good for
the environment to start with. I’d
stay away from plastic, too.”
His face fell for a brief moment.
“How about cotton padding?” he
asked. “With snaps. You could
just attach it to carts currently in
use.”
“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of carts with inflatable tires?
I thought you were designing a
whole new product?”
George scratched his head.
Could I throw a wrench or what?
“Well, I better go,” I said. I
could feel my abs contracting as I
tried to move my cart along. I may
even have grunted a little. And my
feet hurt.
I turned around and said, “Hey,
George. Maybe you shouldn’t
worry about changing the carts.
Maybe you should come up with
an idea for supermarket conveyor
belts that bring the food to the customer. Like luggage at the airport.” Oh God, did I really just say
that?
George’s eyebrows shot up. I
could see the wheels in his head
turning, moving in unison in a new
direction. Unlike my shopping
cart.
Chelle Martin belongs to Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in
Crime, and Romance Writers of
America. Her short stories have
appeared in numerous anthologies, and she’s currently working
on a humorous mystery novel.
U.S. 1
41
Praises for Vanilla Ice Cream
Vanilla ice cream, you are like a woman,
Sweet, pure, and wholesome throughout.
And like a woman, you enjoy your chameleon-like
colors and forms.
Who would recognize you all dolled up as a
Good Humor for kids,
Or round as a ball dipped in chocolate
jimmies for youths,
Or as a he-man sandwich hiding between two
chocolate wafers?
For fatties, you transform yourself into a
luscious sunday, smothered with fattening
nuts, hot fudge, and whipped cream.
For lovers, you are ice-cream milk shakes and
sodas with two straws.
For sophisticates, you hide in a sexy parfait
glass, under brown Kahlua or green creme de
menthe, served in the dim candle light.
Vanilla ice cream, you are so sly,
You even go with apple pie!
— Norma Papier
Norma Papier is a retired registered nurse. She did private-duty
nursing at Princeton Hospital for 13 years and ran the
Lawrenceville School summer infirmary for four summers. Hobbies
include hiking, touring foreign countries, camping, aerobics, and
reading. She is married with three grown children.
Artistically Inspired
The Lilies of
Frida Kahlo
by Arlene Gralla
Feldman
D
iego Rivera kneels
at my coffin. A huge
man, he towers over
me even in this position. In
the crook of his left arm,
rests a cluster of calla lilies.
He removes one lily and
places it across my forehead; takes another for my
throat. He tries to press two
beneath my crossed hands.
Death helps me resist. I hear a
whispered:
“Niña, chiquita, Frida.”
His tears flood my coffin. I
am drowning.
I relent as I always do.
“Mi niño, Dieguito —”
My tears slide to the sides
of my temples, meander
among my braids, over the silver, filigree ornaments and I
remember other lilies.
“Niña chiquita,” he says as
he places lilies to my scars.
A cluster of three bound
with a narrow
red, satin ribbon
surrounds the stump of my
right leg,
one across my abdomen,
one pressed between my
thighs
“La maja vestida.”
I laugh and place one between his thighs,
stigma above stigma.
I am the lily— corolla, labia,
style,
pistil, clitoris. He is the lily as
well.
“La maja desnuda,” he
purrs,
moving the stem along myAngeline, Marevna,
Guadalupe, Paulette,
Helen, Cristina, and Louise
enter the room
and I pull away.
“Frida, pata de palo —”
And then, his mouth to the lily
of the thighs,
he croons, “Niña chiquita.”
He told me I was his diamond among inferior jewels
but he would not — I turn
from his tears.
He is into the canvas
Laughing and shaking his
hips
Pressing the brush to my
breast
encircling the areola in cadmium yellow.
He is into the canvas,
Painting lilies in women’s
baskets —
on the shoulders of menpainting us
into the canvass.
“We will have our flower
days again, Diequito,” I whisper to his sobs. He presses his
lips to mine.
I watch him leave, the remaining lilies in his hand to
be painted, perhaps, in the
background of a canvass or
placed upon the thighs of another corolla.
Feldman is a retired NYC
High School English teacher.
She is presently working on a
novella and short stories and
seeking an agent. Three short
stories have appeared in past
U.S. 1 Summer Fiction issues.
42
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
Parent & Child
A Prayer for
Mother
H
by Hugh Adams
e surprised himself saying
“Yes” when the priest
asked if he would like to
pray. He knew Lillianne was surprised when he accepted, but she
didn’t say anything. She looked at
him out of the corner of her eye as
she took his hand and bowed her
head. The priest put a hand on
each of their shoulders and tightened his grip just enough to let
them know they were in the hands
of God.
His agreement perplexed him
even as the priest intoned:
“Lord”...
He hadn’t prayed in years, in
fact wasn’t sure that he had ever
prayed in a meaningful way, with
that certain faith and fervency.
Even his youthful mind had
doubted the accuracy, veracity
and reliability of rote reading out
or repetition of dried text and images. It was something he had
long borne because he felt that
most people, his mother especially, had expected him to declare for
the priesthood. Instead, he became
the last disappointment for his
mother when his other bothers and
sisters had moved on in their lives
and he was the last, best hope.
“... we lift up ...”
Barry had helped him to get off
the floor where he had fallen. Lillianne had hold of him by the arm,
but couldn’t hold him upright
when he had lost his balance. Barry had asked him:
“Dad, are you okay ?” over and
over before he sat heavily on the
bed and mumbled:
“I’m okay,” before drifting off
to sleep again. He hadn’t given
any thought to being naked in
front of his son but idly wondered
if Lillianne had had a chance to
cover herself.
“... in prayer ...”
His mother prayed, lifelong devout and prayerful even as life
dished up one let down upon another. It saddened him to think that
he most likely was one of those
setbacks. Not only the forgone
priesthood, but after the usual
falling out between parent and son
in the teenage years, they had nev-
er really reconciled, never reengaged that special bond, mother to
youngest son.
They had been holding hands,
softly, gently, when the priest had
walked in. He had known Father
Jonathan off and on over the last
few years, interestingly enough, in
groups advocating for anonymous
group prayers for community residents who were ill. His participation, strictly professional, amused
him even then, since he was singularly non-devout. Lillianne was
sitting beside the hospital bed, quietly reading one of her mysteries
while he was musing about how
they’d come to this moment. Their
quiet was natural, as they both
He thought about his
complete reversal of his
mother’s devotion and
how it meant, at bottom, that one was right,
the other wrong —
there was no middle
ground.
worked with people all day and
craved silence when alone or together, although it often meant
that they missed out on important
conversations between themselves
in their pursuit of calm.
“ ... (Name person prayed for)
...”
He remembered Lillianne calling his name over and over in concern as he had jumped out of bed
yelping in pain. She took hold of
his arm. He remembered turning
to her as he jumped up and down
on the cramping leg, and then
caught the other foot on the chair
near the chest of drawers and lost
his balance to his right, cracking
his head against the window molding and sliding down the wall,
suddenly unaware of anything but
Lillianne calling his name over
and over again.
“We ask you to take him in the
palm of your hand and grant him
the calm of your loving embrace.”
Another hospital room, his
mother withering away as he held
her hand. She was drugged against
the terrible pain, semi-conscious,
occasionally rattling off words and
phrases, just sounds, that held no
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coherence when he tried to rehear
them later. His inability to give
value to these words, the last
things he heard his mother say,
cast him as Stephen Daedulus,
who would not kneel in prayer at
his dying mother’s behest. At the
close of that evening, he had leant
over and kissed her on the cheek
and brow. They never “spoke”
again and she had died within the
next few weeks.
“Embrace also the medical
staff, doctors and nurses and grant
them the knowledge and learning
that they may recognize his ailment and free him from those effects ...”
At first they thought about concussion, but it was his heart. Allowing for the — “accident” he
called it — last night, his doctor
was not worried about the concussion, but the “flutter” — he called
it — in his heart. The nurse would
come and put the stethoscope, then
her hand on his chest and, after a
moment, say: “Can’t you feel
that?” She motioned with her other hand, opening and closing her
fist rapidly while moving the
whole hand up and down in another rapid motion. When he shook
his head, she grabbed his hand and
placed it on his chest, then hers on
top, asking again:
“You still can’t feel that?!” with
a look of wonderment.
He had made a half-hearted reference to their hand and heart
holding, but, beyond a wry smile,
she wasn’t going there.
Several doctors and nurses had
mentioned waiting for a natural
conversion or they would have to
shock him. He had responded that
he’d had enough shock for now.
He’d smiled and said:
“I’ll wait for my heart to convert, but it might be a long wait.”
“... so that he may continue to
enjoy living life to the fullest ...”
Once his sister had asked him
about his abandonment of the
faith. He didn’t feel defensive, but
had gone into some of the reasons,
mostly having to do with complete
disillusionment with the church
leadership but it was a refusal to
accept faith in the face of empirical, obdurate facts to the contrary.
He told her that he sometimes
thought about his complete reversal of his mother’s devotion and
how it meant, at bottom, that one
was right, the other wrong — there
was no middle ground — and that
he loved her enough to hope, almost pray, against her final disappointment. But he also knew that
no matter the final reality, he and
his mother would never cross
paths again.
“... and singing your praises.
We ask this in your name ...”
And that remembrance knifed
into his heart as the first sob
quaked through his body, then
quickly came more. Gasping and
weeping, he shuddered into
speechless collapse, breath gone
and mouth swollen with unspoken
words of pity and sorrow, surprising Lillianne and the priest, but
most of all, himself.
“Amen.”
Hugh Adams lives in Trenton
and works at a nonprofit organization in Ewing that promotes and
sponsors voluntarism by mature
adults, 55 and over.
The Oldest Child
by Carol MacAllister
T
he oldest child is an experimental spawn. That’s what I
was with lots of aunts and
an inexperienced mother.
I remember lying in bed with a
slight fever listening to Mother
and Aunt Margie discuss buttermilk.
“Merilyn,” Aunt Margie said,
“Buttermilk is great for sick kids.
It brings down
fevers.”
“But Margie, I
don’t have any butterTwo boys spot my puppy
milk. And, the stores
and barrel from the laundromat,
are closed.”
complicate the sidewalk,
I drifted off to
ring me with their muscle shirts
sleep as pans rattled.
and cut-offs,
The two sisters, like
Can I pet your dog
Shakespearean witches, busily concocted
is it a boy or girl
an elixir: a pot of milk
is it a pit bull or rottweiler
with a stick of melted
can I hold the leash
butter brewed. They
does he bite —
awoke me. Mother
The stocky one stands straight,
helped me sit up and
Aunt Margie handed
reciting as if memorized
me the cup.
You got to give them lots of love
“Drink this. It’ll
so never hit them and always talk
make you feel better.”
(baby-coo) like this,
I obliged, thinking,
they only bite cause they’re teasing
chicken soup.
so don’t ever hit them,
After a sudden
what they really like is a bowl of
shudder, the warm
milk,
greasy liquid rumbled
that puppy will love you forever
back up and burst out
if you just hug him
of my mouth.
They glared at me!
and give him a bowl of milk.
It was their magic that
A big man in undershirt comes out.
didn’t work!
I told you to git inside and stay inFrom that time on,
side,
like Pavlov’s dog, I
did you bring in them baskets like I
was conditioned for
doom. Two weeks
told you,
later, while riding in
and the boy who knows about pupUncle Bill’s car
pies disappears.
snaking down a
— Maxine Susman
bumpy mountainous
road near Long ValSusman’s poems have appeared in US 1
ley, I read a road sign:
Worksheets, Poet Lore, Paterson Literary
Stop here! Oatmeal
Review, Alehouse, Dogwood Journal, and
and warm buttermilk.
elsewhere. Chapbooks are Gogama (2006),
Whoops!
Wartime Address (2009), and Familiar
Mother and Aunt
(2009). She is a professor of English at
Margie didn’t care for
Caldwell College and a member of US 1
the looks of my
Poets and the Cool Women poetry perforstraight brown hair.
mance group.
Shirley Temple copycat curls were all the
rage. Announcement:
boil and bubble. When shall we
“We’re going to give you a perma- three meet again? Never, would be
nent.” A what?
too soon.” Cinders festered up and
They washed my hair and
out, but the direct blast of peroxide
worked a smelly liquid through it,
was like a sudden side trip to the
then rolled the small strands onto
nether world. Athlete’s Foot?
little cardboard curlers with ends
They dunked my foot into a bowl
that folded back to hold them in
filled with blistering iodine-laced
place. Small bottles of potions
CN. The same stuff used to disinwere opened.
fect latrines at Sacagawea Girl
I knelt on the bathroom floor
Scout camp.
pressed against the bathtub
I’ll never forget the day Mother
stretching over the edge as far as
and Aunt Margie sat me down in
my short neck could reach. They
the parlor. I was apprehensive behanded me a towel. “Hold this
cause the parlor was forbidden to
tight against your face so you
children. With Dr. Spock’s book
don’t burn your eyes.” It was
in hand, not Star Trek’s navigation
POW torture. The gut-retching
smell and smothering scratchy
towel didn’t fall under my categoThe next time I got sick,
ry of Sacrifices for Glamour. Who
Mother and Aunt
cared about Shirley Temple or was
Margie dropped gobs of
this Aunt Margie’s way of punishing me for cleaning the toilet with
Vicks Vapo-Rub into a
her toothbrush?
cauldron of steaming
I held the towel against my face
water. My head was poas they doused each curler with
ammonia. “Hold that towel tight!”
sitioned directly over
It took forever. The last step, neuthe rising vapors to
tralizer, was finally applied. They
catch the cure-all fumes.
unrolled the curlers and my frizzy
hair stank for days. Mr. Bauer, our
old neighbor, pinched my cheek.
“Your hair looks like an explosion officer, but it might as well have
in a mattress factory, kid.” Part of
been, they calmly followed the
his remark was retaliatory for the
guidelines for “How to tell an only
time he’d bent over and I bit him
child that a sibling is on the way.”
on the behind.
I made a low, long sigh. The two
Towels and gross smells belooked at me with doleful, sympacame fiendish instruments of exthetic glares. Little did they know
perimentation. The next time I got my sigh was that of relief. Yes!
sick, Mother and Aunt Margie
Someone else’s turn!
dropped gobs of Vicks Vapo-Rub
Mother stared at me thoughtfulinto a cauldron of steaming water.
ly. “Is something wrong, dear? Do
My head was positioned directly
you have a tummy-ache?” She
over the rising vapors and draped
glanced towards the kitchen.
with that same towel to catch the
No! Not buttermilk! I backed
cure-all fumes. My first pangs of
out of the room and retched.
claustrophobia. My eyes burned
Carol MacAllister has placed
even with their lids shut. The
numerous short stories in trade
fumes were more intense than that collections. The latest is in ChickShirley Temple perm.
en Soup for the Soul, “Happily
Skinned knees filled with cinEverafter.” She has recently comders provided another opportunity pleted an historical novel, God
for experimental hocus-pocus:
Only Watches. Three of its chapStraight from the brown bottle —
ters have recently won writing
hydrogen peroxide dumped into
competitions and she hopes to
the open wound. “Fizzle, foam,
place it with a publishing house.
Expert
JULY 28, 2010
Bingo
Hawaiian Fruit
Punch share space
with packets of wild
by Adele Polomski rice and non-caffeine teas. I jostle
muffle a wet cough with my
past teenagers who
fist and step inside Franklin’s
travel in packs for
Variety Store looking for
strength and mutual protection
something to relieve congestion,
from past-their-sell-by-date adults
sinus pain, a sore throat, achy
like me. I give up and head for a
head, runny nose, and coughing.
huge rack of the latest issues of
Symptoms of an ugly end to an
women’s magazines. I pay for half
eight-year-long relationship. Or
a dozen, throwing in a metal tin of
the flu.
cough drops, a travel-size-packet
Tarot cards in different patterns of ear swabs, a lurid purple feather
are in aisle five with Formula 1
boa, and a pack of cigarettes.
race car model kits, pop star
When the gallery where I work
posters, modeling clay and sets for calls to see why I haven’t shown
collecting rare stamps and coins.
up, I give the marabou boa around
Jeffrey didn’t have any hobbies.
my neck an extra turn and tell DarThis may be the one reason for our lene, “It could be chicken flu.”
break up. A lack of common inter- What’s a marabou anyway? A gloests. Things to talk about besides
rified ostrich?
my job and his. How many lipoYou mean “bird flu?”
suction stories could I listen to?
“Okay.”
Furniture is in aisle six. A Chip“When have you ever been near
pendale highboy, payment for a
live birds?”
prescription drug bill run up by an
I light a cigarette. The first puff
unemployed police chief’s wife,
sears my lungs. “Darlene, I’m getrests beside a low glass-topped
ting that you really enjoy this powwrought iron table surrounded and er you have over me. I’m in the
topped with plaster animals. The
country. I was visiting my aunt.”
highboy story is a rumor, and like“I thought you were spending
ly true. A chandelier has been in
the weekend with Jeffrey.”
residence as long as the highboy.
“Yes, but my aunt is in Paris or
Beneath it is a crate of imported
Amsterdam or in Europe somesugar bowls. Everyone, including
where with my uncle who likes to
me, steps reverently over the
travel. They went to Turkey last
rolled up mosque-size prayer rug.
year. I’m sure I’ve mentioned my
Other religious artifacts are
aunt.” I detect a note of skepticism
grouped together. Rosaries, a
in the silence that stretches bepainting of the Buddha, a Florentween us. Remember? She bought
tine crucifix, an olive wood
an inn with a petting zoo in the
mezuzah and Shabbat candles.
back. With sheep and goats for litJeffrey is Jewish. I could tell my
tle ones who want to commune
friends that we broke up over reliwith nature up close and personal
gious differences, but everyone
but in a non-committal way.”
knows I have no religious affiliaDarlene isn’t interested.
tions. I would have adopted some
“It’s not for everyone,” I say.
for a baby, but Jeffrey wasn’t sure
“Will you be in tomorrow?”
we were “into” kids.
I mash the cigarette into the lid
A whole aisle is dedicated to
of the cough drop tin, pluck a copy
stationery. I think about writing
of Jane from a tower block of
Jeffrey a note. The problem is
magazines and open it to “The
what to say. “I’m glad you’re hap- Five Questions We Always Ask.”
py now,” seems appropriate, but
“Darlene, what secret urge do
not in good taste considering he
you have but never act on?” I
can’t be happy. He loves his cat.
don’t tell her mine is to kill JefNow missing because of me.
frey. “Humor me. I’m sick.”
Moth-proof fur-trimmed coats
Darlene says nothing.
are at the end of the aisle nine,
“Okay, that question’s too protucked between a collection of
saic. How about, ‘What’s the
fuzzy peach covers for the toilet
worst you’ve ever screwed anyseat and used books including one
one?’ And this isn’t a sexual quescalled What the Odds Are: The A- tion.”
to-Z Odds on Everything You
“Hmmm.”
Hoped or Feared Would Happen. I
It surprises me to hear her stop
pick this one up and put it down in to really chew this one over. “I
favor of yellowed copy of Coping
don’t want to say,” she finally
with Difficult
says.
People. I should
I don’t either.
I can’t tell Darlene
purchase this for
“Okay, who is
my desk at
on your ‘celebs
that I took revenge for
work. Instead, I
to make out with
finding Jeffrey with his
troop to the
list’ right now?”
hand down his recepfront of the store
“Johnny
and the cashier,
Depp.”
tionist’s blouse by
“Do you carry
“Ah, that
driving his cat to the
throat lozenges
guardian of culcountry.
and a sinus
ture.”
spray that isn’t
“Wait! Are
habit forming?”
you reading
I ask.
Jane?” She doesn’t wait for an anThe teenager sports enough silswer. “Before you ask about fakver trinkets to pass for an arcade
ing an orgasm and my one coveted
gypsy. The bracelets tinkle as she
superpower, tell me who they inidly straightens a display of plastic terviewed this month? No, never
whistles marketed for use over the mind. Isn’t Jane a tad young for
telephone in response to obscene
you?”
calls. “Have you tried aisle six,”
Darlene, my boss, is a Princeton
she offers hopefully.
graduate 10 years my junior. This
“That’s furniture.”
places me squarely in my period of
“Really?”
decay and decline. Soon, I’ll be
“Been there,” I say and survey
clipping coupons and stocking up
the cigarette display. Near the dis- on Depends. This must be why I
play case, someone’s tacked the
don’t understand the slogan on
winning entry in the local high
Drew Barrymore’s tee-shirt: “Polschool’s “Smoking Stinks” poster
itics is like sex. Protect
contest. A burning cigarette hangs yourself.Vote.” What does this
off the lower lip of a squinting,
mean? Vote to have sex? Vote not
surly teenager. I read the caption.
to have sex? Keep a condom
“Smoking is not as cool as it
handy when you head for polls
looks.”
manned by ancient people with
“Aisle eleven?” the cheerleader phlegmy voices and dry loose skin
says with a certitude that makes
on the back of their hands?
me a believer.
Darlene is telling me how much
In aisle eleven, large cans of
she likes the new resident artist at
I
I thumb to the
next page. I can’t
tell Darlene that Jeffrey has a problem
with commitment,
and that I took revenge for finding
him with his hand down his receptionist’s blouse by driving his cat
to the country. “I could win a free
trip to Alaska,” I announce,
cheered by prospect of a vacation
to any port of call.
“Really?”
“No! Pay attention, Darlene.
It’s mine to win. I haven’t won it.
When I do win something we can
break out the champagne and tap
dance on the table.”
“Have you seen a doctor?”
My doctor isn’t half bad looking. With more hair and a flatter
stomach ... I close the magazine.
The young woman on the cover of
Allure looks like one of those new
party girls referred to in Jane, a
group of college co-eds being
Feline Intuition
the gallery, a vaguely French guy
with an urban edge. “Working
with him as an exhibiting artist
this summer should be a lot of fun.
He’s so innovative and has incredible PR. He’s got his finger on the
pulse of the city.”
“Isn’t that expression a tad dated?” I say.
“You’re in a foul mood. Did
something happen?”
A story about Pam Anderson
grabs my attention. Nothing about
Pam Anderson is intrinsically interesting, but I am about to learn
about the men who sucked her
soul dry. “Gawd, isn’t that something we could all relate to,” I say
with a sigh worthy of a martyr.
“What is?”
U.S. 1
43
wiped out by a drug epidemic. I’m
sick of doctors and not interested
in drugs. It’s a good sign. I care
about something.
I decide I like the heavily eyelinered vampirish girl smiling
from the cover. She’s not exposing
canines, but I can imagine those
teeth two inches long like the
fangs on a stray dog or a fox. Do
they have foxes in the country?
“Darlene?”
“Yes?”
“I haven’t asked the question
yet. Are you reading my mind?”
“No.” I hear her laugh.
“Is it possible to find comfort in
a C-cup?”
“How would I know the answer
to that?”
“Never mind. Thanks for calling. I mean that. I’m going to lie
down now.” I disconnect the call
and read an article about making
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
OFFICE SPACE FOR LEASE
FULL FLOOR (22,844 SF)
821 Alexander Road, Princeton
Available units:
For more information call
• 22,844 SF – Entire 2nd floor
with monument signage.
• 4,219 SF
• 3,403 SF – Includes furniture
(609) 921-6060
or email [email protected]
• Class A building
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• Walk to Princeton Junction
Train Station
• Corner of Alexander
and Vaughn Drive
• Fitness room with showers.
www.hiltonrealtyco.com
3,403 SF
“easy snuggly pillows” out of your exboyfriends’ “comfy old sweaters.” It didn’t
occur to me to shred Jeffrey’s clothes. I didn’t take anything from his apartment except
for Bingo. A stupid name for a nice, indoor,
declawed, helpless-in-the-wild cat. I hate
myself because the receptionist wasn’t the
first of Jeffrey’s indiscretions. There had
been clues. A cigarette butt with tiny pink
marks in the shrubbery outside his townhouse. An extra wine glass in the sink.
Long blonde hairs in the shower drain. If
Jeffrey had two cats, they’d both be fox
bait. I am me. A spiteful cat killer. I hate
Jeffrey.
I turn the page and find a recipe. Jane is
not Good Housekeeping, and this isn’t a
recipe for a bread pudding or the perfect
muffin. It’s for a Vodka Red Bubbly. I
don’t have “Cranberryraz” vodka or cranberry juice. I’m not in the mood to open a
bottle of champagne or whip up a batch of
simple syrup. I close the magazine. “You
are not silver, gold, or platinum,” advises
the ad on the back. “You are you.”
And you should find that cat, I finish. I’d
already spent two hours tramping the side
of that road yelling, “Bingo!” at the top of
my lungs. Cats don’t listen.
I call Jeffrey and thank God he doesn’t
answer. Neither does his receptionist. I’m
certain they’re off together pursuing sexual
congress on an examining table, paper crinkling, what’s her name working hard to
lower her panty hose, Jeffrey fumbling with
his zipper. When was the last time I’d made
love with reckless abandon? “Jeffrey?” I
say to the answering machine. “I’m sorry.”
The line clicks open. “Sorry? For what?”
his voice demands.
“Temporary insanity. I’m deeply
ashamed of myself.”
“I knew you’d come around.”
“Are you home?” I ask.
“Yeah, why? You coming over?”
“Is Bingo there?” I ask hopefully. It’s
not possible, but why can’t I dream for a
miracle?
“What does the cat have to do with a
booty call?” Jeffrey sounds harassed, like
Temerity
I like the random absurdity
of this performance
-Kenneth Koch
In Peter & The Wolf, we may recall Leonard Bernstein
asking “and who is this low character?”
Well, it was the cat.
But this poem is not about an ordinary cat:
There is trouble today in Princeton
A cadre of dogs from the neighborhood
bark at Penelope and her cat.
Prone to bad behavior they create
havoc.
The cat sits down
serene
deliberate
stealing their fire away
like Prometheus.
–– Shirley Wright
Shirley Wright’s poetry has appeared in Kelsey Review, Connecticut
River Review, and several other poetry
publications. She lives in East Windsor.
this conversation is going on too long.
Worse, he doesn’t realize his cat is missing. “Goodbye, I say.” “You’re ending
this?”
“Bingo,” I say.
I disconnect the call and fire up my laptop. Not for lovebrowse.com,
metrodate.com, or getiton.com. Not for singleswithscruples.com, animalpeople.com
or even greatexpectations.com. I search for
local animal shelters. There’s no hope for
Jeffrey, but I’ll be happy with Bingo. He
and the man of my dreams are out there
somewhere. The hunt is on.
Adele Polomski is a writer who lives and
works in Ocean County. She has a masters
in English and is working on a novel.
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Conversation
With Hal
I
by Jack Foster
t was somewhat reminiscent of Kafka — you know, “The Metamorphosis.” I was at the bathroom sink
about to trim my beard, when from behind the hot water knob, there appeared
a stink bug, just as casually and confidently as anybody I’ve ever seen. Now
unlike in the Kafka story, it remained
the normal size for stink bugs, with no
threat of sudden enlargement. I don’t
know if it was aware of me at first, but
eventually we engaged in a conversation, not vocal but mental. At least, that
was my impression.
After a proper greeting of good
mornings, it said to me, “I would appreciate it if you would please clean up the
beard hairs in the sink when you’re
done. I prefer to live in a neat environment.”
To which I responded, “You mean
you live here? You’re not just passing
through?”
“No, I’ve been here all winter.
Haven’t you seen me around?”
“Well, certainly I’ve seen a lot of
stink bugs through the winter, but you
all look alike to me –– no offense intended.”
“And, by the way,” it said to me, “we
don’t like to be called stink bugs. Both
stink and bugs are very demeaning. We
prefer our Latin name of Halyomorpha
halys. But you can also refer to us as either Halyo or I, personally, find just
plain Hal quite acceptable.”
“Okay. Sorry. That’s all I’ve known
you by –– stink bugs that is. But just for
your information, I’ve actually told
people that you resemble miniature flying turtles. How do you feel about that?
That puts you up the creature scale a
few notches, don’t you think?”
“Frankly, it doesn’t impress me.
It’s not that I have anything against
turtles, of course. I haven’t seen that
many of them, but as far as I can
tell, they are fine, dignified creatures in their own right. But so are
we. We don’t need to be compared
to anything else in order to be an acceptable and decent living entity on
this planet.”
Well, of course, the incredulous
nature of this so-called mental conversation with a stink bug (aka Halyomorpha halys) seemed quite inconceivable. Was it really happening? Still, it seemed very definitely
to be taking place because the connected train of thoughts was so
vivid and flowing. What strange
zone had I passed through? And to
those who may have an element of
doubt regarding this, consider the
fact that those cosmic thinkers at
the Institute for Advanced Study
have proclaimed there to be 12 or
more dimensions to life. I’ve never
heard the explanations of what they
were and how one might experience
such a thing, but I’m a believer.
“So, Hal,” I said, attempting to
bring an air of familiarity to our
chat, “I have to confess that when I
was a boy or, for that matter, even
just a decade or so ago, I don’t remember the likes of you. What’s up
with that? Did I miss a memo or
something? Did they neglect to include you in one of those PBS nature specials?”
I detected a bit of a sigh. There
was some hesitation in its response.
“The truth is,” said Hal, “I have no
idea. All I know is that I’m here
now, although some Halyomorpha
halys experts claim that our ancestors were first seen in Pennsylvania,
and others go back further and point
to Japan and China as our place of
origin.”
Hal flew to my arm and began
walking up toward my shoulder.
Then I wondered how many other
creatures have been trying to communicate with us human beings?
Other insects? Birds? Household
pets? Plants-what about plants?
These thoughts were rushing
through my brain at such an amazing
rate that I began to feel dizzy.
Hal said, “Are you okay? You look a
little pale. Maybe you should sit down.”
Which I did, but all the while, sitting on
the edge of the tub, I thought, how can I
possibly share this experience with anyone? And Hal responded, “You can’t.
But just do it anyway. Maybe there’s
just one person who will believe you
and that will be enough.”
The phone rang. Hal flew off my
shoulder as I went into the bedroom to
answer it. It was a telemarketer wanting
to tell me that I had been especially chosen. I said, “You don’t know the half of
it. I just a conversation in the bathroom
with a Halyomorpha halys, also known
as a stink bug.” She hung up. Hal had
inadvertently given me a new line for
when I get calls like that.
I went back into the bathroom –– no
Hal. I looked everywhere –– around
things, under things, behind things. No
sign of him. I even went so far as to call
his name aloud. No Hal.
I’ve seen stink bugs with whom I’ve
tried to communicate since, but with no
success. Once my wife caught me in the
bathroom saying, “Hal! Are you here?”
She knocked on the door and said,
“Are you alright in there? Who’s Hal?”
“Oh, I was just saying out loud,
‘How?’ Meaning, how can I get this
plastic wrapper off the mouthwash bottle. That’s all.”
Jack Foster is a retired United
Methodist minister, having served the
Cranbury United Methodist Church for
25 years until 2009. Now living on a
farm in Lambertville, he spends time
writing, hiking, and playing guitar.
Foster says that he has “a great deal
more respect and sensitivity to all living
things that I encounter. Humans are not
the only important creatures on this
planet. And maybe not always the
smartest either.”
I’ve Just Heard
a Song
I’ve just heard a song
and cranked the volume up to sing
along
It wasn’t written yesterday
But as it is, I’ll probably push replay
mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm
mmm
Had it been another tune
I might have curbed the urge to
croon
But these four lads from Liverpool
Make singing silly love songs sound
so cool.
la di di, da di di
Was it their fresh melodies
Or perfect three part harmonies
The fervor they would generate
What other bands could only imitate.
la di di, da di di
Cuban heels and Nehru jackets
Moptops swathed in pristine packets
Hamburg lost its teddy boys
And cellar clubs made way for other
toys.
la di di, da di di
‘Round the world they played the
role
But years of touring took some toll
Their leader flagged for blasphemy
The “handsome one” confessed to
LSD.
la di di, da di di
U.S. 1
Abbey Road became their shelter
Innovating helter skelter
Still they chose to end the game
Some critics swore a woman was to
blame.
la di di, da di di
One set forth to spread his Wings
One shaved his head –– the one with
rings
One said all good things must pass
So went the hero of the working
class.
la di di, da di di
New York City cold December
Painful now just to remember
Can’t remember if I cried
But that’s the day dreams of reunions died.
la di di, da di di
I’ve just heard a song
It backed a Nike’s ad, it seemed so
wrong
At least it wasn’t Yesterday
But as it is, I’ll throw those shoes
away.
la di di, da di di
— Grace Walter
Walter, originally from northern New
Jersey, moved to the area 20 years ago.
Married with one college age daughter,
Walter is employed in Newtown, Pennsylvania, as a medical biller. She is an avid
Beatles fan.
Of the poem above, she says, “the piece
sort of stands on its own. However, it is
much more ‘catchy’ if sung to the tune of
‘I’ve Just Seen a Face’ by Lennon/McCartney.”
45
46
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
Opportunities
Vocal Auditions
Cantus Novus, a 35-voice
chamber chorus based in Yardley,
PA, has auditions for tenors and
basses on Sunday, August 8, 4 to 5
p.m., at St. Andrew’s Church, 47
West Afton, Yardley, PA. Rehearsals are Sunday evenings at the
church. Visit www.cantusnovus.org or call 215-968-3414.
Sharim V’Sharot, a 24-voice
Jewish choir is seeking new members. The largely a cappella choir
has openings for sopranos, altos,
tenors, and basses. Auditions will
be held from August 10 through
September by appointment only.
For more information call 609371-9036, E-mail [email protected], or visit www.sharimvsharot.org.
Stage Auditions
Pierrot Productions has auditions for “Chess” at Mercer County
College, West Windsor on
Wednesday and Thursday, July 28
and July 29. Schedule an appointment by E-mailing [email protected]. Applicants are asked to present a song
from any stage musical, a one to
three-minute monologue, and be
prepared for basic movement.
Playhouse 22 has auditions for
Arthur Miller’s “The Crucible” on
Monday and Tuesday, August 9
and 10, at 7 p.m, at the East
Brunswick Community Arts Center, 721 Cranbury Road, East
Brunswick. E-mail [email protected]. Bring an updated theater resume and head shot
and be familiar with the script.
PRINCETON GROOMING
Dogs and Cats
•
•
•
•
Experienced, professional master groomer
Full-service grooming in your home or ours
Stress-free for your dog or cat
Specializing in older or sick animals that
require special, tender care
• Specials for two animals
We offer pick-up and drop-off locally with no
extra charge, if you prefer the service outside
your home.
By appointment only –– 609-658-6164
[email protected]
Princeton Junction
August 7
For Families
Honey Harvest, Howell Living
History Farm, Valley Road, off
Route 29, Titusville, 609-7373299. www.howellfarm.org. Meet
the queens, drones, and workers;
help uncap and extract honey;
see the insides of working hives.
Visitors should avoid wearing perfume, cologne, or hairspray. 10
a.m. to 4 p.m.
For Teens
The School of Rock, West Windsor Library, 333 North Post
Road, 609-799-0462. www.mcl.org. Concert. Inside if it rains.
Free. 6:30 p.m.
Family Theater
Aladdin and His Wonderful Magical Lamp, Bucks County Playhouse, 70 South Main Street,
Live Music
Summer Social, Grounds For
Sculpture, 18 Fairgrounds Road,
Hamilton, 609-586-0616. www.groundsforsculpture.org. Music of
the 1950s. Workshops for dancing and creating art with reclaimed vinyl 45s and LPs. Enjoy
a malt, root beer float, and sundaes. Free with park admission.
11 a.m. to 4 p.m.
Mikey Junior Duet, Halo Pub,
4617 Nottingham Way, Trenton,
609-586-1811. 7 p.m.
Snake Eyes, Halo Pub, 5 Hulfish
Rock and blues. 7 to 10 p.m.
Somerset Valley Players has
auditions for “The Curious Savage” on Tuesday, August 31, and
Wednesday, September 1, 6 to 9
p.m. Readings will be from the
script. Bring a current resume. 689
Amwell Road, Hillsborough.
www.svptheatre.org or call 908369-7469.
Yardley Players has auditions
for “Annie Get Your Gun” on Saturday and Sunday, August 28 and
29, noon to 4 p.m. Children ages 7
and up as well as adults. Call
Marge Swider at 215-968-1904 for
an appointment.
For Creative Women
Cranbury Station Galleries
offers “Women Watercolor Workshops by the Sea” on Thursdays
and Friday, September 23 and 24,
and September 30 and October 1.
The two-day workshops are available with and without accommodations. $300 to $400. Call 609-9210434 for information.
Call for Art
New Hope Sidetracks Art
Gallery is accepting submissions
for “Naked in New Hope” featuring artwork in any medium or
style. Mail or drop off a disc with
up to 12 digital images with a
check for $10. Deadline is Saturday, September 11. 2A Stockton
Avenue, New Hope, PA 18938.
Call 215-862-4586 or E-mail [email protected].
Phillips’ Mill Art Exhibition is
accepting art from artists living
within a 25-mile radius of New
Hope, PA. Download entry forms
The Doughboys, The Record
Collector Store, 358 Farnsworth
Avenue, Bordentown, 609-3240880. www.the-record-collector.com. $12. 7:30 p.m.
California Dreamin’ Summer
Music Tribute, Grover’s Mill
609-716-8771. www.groversmillcoffee.com. Sounds of summer
presented by an array of area
performers. 8 p.m.
Outdoor Action
Butterflies in Your Garden,
Stony Brook Millstone Watershed, 31 Titus Mill Road, Pennington, 609-737-7592. www.thewatershed.org. Adult event presented by a teacher-naturalist includes a tour of the butterfly
house and catching butterflies in
the field with sweep nets. Register. Free. 10:30 a.m. to noon.
Family Nature Programs, Plainsboro Preserve, 80 Scotts Corner
www.njaudubon.org. “Specimen
of the Day,” a hands-on experience to uncover the secrets of
plaster casts, fur, feathers, skins,
and skulls. Register. $5. 3:30 to 5
p.m.
Family Night Hike and Campfire,
Stony Brook Millstone Watershed, 31 Titus Mill Road, Pennington, 609-737-7592. Night
hike for ages six and up followed
by a campfire and toasted marshmallows. Children must be accompanied by an adult. Register.
$12. 8 to 10 p.m.
Night Hike, Washington Crossing State Park, Visitor Center, Titusville, 609-737-0609. Naturalist-guided hike and campfire.
Bring a flashlight. Register. $5 per
car. Enter the park from the Bear
Tavern Road entrance. 8:30 p.m.
Politics
Community Roundtable, Lartigue 2010, Marriott, Lafayette
Yard, Trenton. Register by E-mail
to [email protected]. 11
a.m. to 1 p.m.
at www.phillipsmill.org or call
215-862-0582. Deadline is Friday,
September 10.
Arts Council of Princeton
seeks works from artists who are
current members of the arts council
for “People and Places,” an exhibit
in all media pertaining to the theme
of “Portraits.” Works will be accepted Thursday and Friday, September 2 and 3, 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.;
and Saturday, September 4, 9 a.m.
to noon. Entries must be ready for
display. 102 Witherspoon Street,
Princeton.
www.artscouncilofprinceton.org or call Maria Evans
at 609-924-8777, ext. 105.
Artworks seeks submissions
for “Made in Metal,” a juried exhibition focusing on forged, welded,
and cast works. Deadline is Sunday, August 1. Submit entry image
on CD with a $20 check. Maximum of three entries per artist. Details at www.artworkstrenton.org
or call 609-394-9436.
For Kids
Arts Council of Princeton
seeks entries and contestants for
ARTbox Derby on Saturday, September 25, at 2 p.m., Greenway
Meadows Park, Rosedale Road,
Princeton. Build a coaster car with
functional built-in steering and
brakes, no larger than three by nine
feet. Prizes will be awarded for creativity, sustainability, and speed.
Contestants must be seven or older; drivers must be 10 or older. All
drivers and riders must wear a helmet and protective eyewear. Visit
www.artscouncilofprinceton.org
for entry and liability forms. Deadline for entry is Friday, September
17, with a $20 fee.
Singles
Strategies for Online Dating,
Center for Relaxation and Healing, 666 Plainsboro Road, Suite
635, Plainsboro, 609-750-7432.
Register. $22. 1 to 3 p.m
Sports
Princeton Bicycling Event,
Princeton Free Wheelers, Mercer County College, 1200 Old
Trenton Road, West Windsor,
609-882-4739. The club’s touring
extravaganza gives bikers a
choice of seven tours through
central New Jersey ranging from
16 to 100 miles, from easy, flat
terrain to rugged hill climbs. Anyone who rides a bicycle safely
and wears an approved helmet is
invited. All rides begin and end at
Mercer County College. Register.
$30 includes a post-ride lunch. 7
a.m.
609-394-8326. www.trentonthunder.com. Binghamton Mets.
$9 to $12. 7:05 p.m.
Sunday
August 8
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
Play Ball!
$9 to $12. 5:05 p.m.
Classical Music
Summer Carillon Concert
Series, Princeton University, 88
College Road West, Princeton,
609-258-3654. www.princeton.edu. Kim Schafer of Princeton on
the fifth largest carillon in the
country. Free. 1 p.m.
JULY 28, 2010
U.S. 1
At the Movies
Mainstream Movies
Confirm titles with theaters.
Cats & Dogs: Revenge of Kitty
Galore. Animated tale with voices
of Bette Midler and Neil Patrick
Harris. Opens Thursday, July 29.
AMC, Regal.
Charlie St. Cloud. Romantic
drama with Zac Efron in title role.
Opens Thursday, July 29. AMC,
Regal.
Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky. French film that traces the affair between Chanel and the composer in Paris in 1920, the year that
Chanel No. 5 was created. Montgomery.
Cyrus. Comedy with John C.
Reilly, Jonah Hill, and Marisa
Tomei. AMC, Montgomery, Multiplex.
Despicable Me. Computer-animated film about the world’s
biggest heist — to steal the moon
— starring Steve Carell. AMC,
Destinta, MarketFair, Multiplex,
Regal.
Dinner for Schmucks. Comedy with Steve Carell and Paul
Rudd. AMC, Regal.
Elvis on Tour: 75th Anniversary Celebration. One night only.
Thursday, July 29. AMC, Multiplex, Regal.
The Girl Who Played with
Fire. Also known as Flickan som
lekte med eiden. Montgomery.
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Also known as “Man som
hatar Kvinnor.” Montgomery.
Grown Ups. Comedy with
Adam Sandler, Kevin James, Chris
Rock, and David Spade. AMC,
Destinta, MarketFair, Multiplex,
Regal.
I Am Love (Io Sono L’amore).
Italian drama about a wealthy family set at the turn of the millennium.
With Tilda Swinton. Montgomery,
Multiplex.
Inception. Action with Leonardo DiCaprio. AMC, Destinta, Garden, MarketFair, Multiplex, Regal.
The Karate Kid. Action remake with Jackie Chan. AMC, Regal.
Khatta Meetha. Romantic
comedy filmed in India. Multiplex,
Regal.
The Kids Are All Right. Drama
with Julianne Moore and Annette
Benning focuses on teenagers conceived by artificial insemination in
search of their birth father. Garden,
Montgomery.
Knight and Day. Adventure
with Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz. AMC.
The Last Airbender. Animated
adventure fantasy film by M. Night
Shyamalan based on TV series
Avatar: The Last Airbender. AMC,
Destinta, MarketFair, Regal.
Mademoiselle Chambon. A
spark between a teacher and one of
her students’ fathers. Montgomery.
Predators. Action with Adrien
Brody. AMC, Destinta, Regal.
Ramona and Beezus. Family
comedy based on Beverly Cleary’s
books. AMC, Destinta, MarketFair, Multiplex.
Salt. Action with Angelina Jolie
and Liev Schreiber. Opens July 22.
AMC, Destinta, MarketFair,
Multiplex, Regal.
Art
Broadway in Concert
Art Exhibit, Artists’ Gallery, 18
Bridge Street, Lambertville, 609397-4588. www.lambertvillearts.com. Opening reception for “Visions of Summer,” a group show
featuring works of all 18 partnering artists in watercolor, acrylic,
oil, mixed media, photography,
clay, glass, and wood. On view to
September 5. 2 p.m. to 5 p.m.
Highlights Tour, Princeton University Art Museum, Princeton
campus, 609-258-3788. http://artmuseum.princeton.edu. Free.
2 p.m.
The World Goes Round, Washington Crossing Open Air Theater, 355 Washington CrossingPennington Road, Titusville, 267885-9857. The songs of Kander
and Ebb. $10; $7 for children.
Blankets, seat cushions, and insect repellent are recommended.
Picnic welcome before show.
Food available. 7:30 p.m.
Drama
$29.50. 1:30 p.m.
for property, custody, and survival. $16. 2 p.m.
Here, Kitty, Kitty: Tab Lazenby, left, voiced by
Roger Moore, and Lor, voiced by Neil Patrick Harris in ‘Cats and Dogs: The Revenge of Kitty Galore,’ opening Friday, July 30.
Film
Kingston Lane, Monmouth Junction, 732-329-4000. Screening of
“Broken Embraces.” Free. 2 p.m.
Farmers’ Market
The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.
Fantasy adventure film starring
Nicolas Cage. AMC, Destinta,
MarketFair, Multiplex, Regal.
Toy Story 3. Animated sequel
with voices of Tom Hanks and Tim
Allen. AMC, Destinta, MarketFair,
Multiplex, Regal.
Twilight Saga: The Eclipse.
Violent thriller returns with Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson.
AMC, Destinta, MarketFair,
Multiplex, Regal.
Venues
AMC Hamilton 24 Theaters, 325
Sloan Avenue , I-295 Exit 65-A, 609890-8307.
Destinta, Independence Plaza,
264 South Broad Street, Hamilton,
609-888-4500.
Garden Theater, 160 Nassau
MarketFair-UA, Route 1 South,
Montgomery Center Theater,
Routes 206 and 518, Rocky Hill,
609-924-7444.
Multiplex Cinemas Town Center
Plaza, 319 Route 130 North, East
Windsor, 609-371-8472.
Regal Theaters, Route 1 South,
of Princeton, Bainbridge House,
609-921-6748. Two-hour walking
tour includes stories about the
early history of Princeton, the
founding of the University, and
the American Revolution. $7; $4
for ages 6 to 12. 2 to 4 p.m.
Airplane Rides
Princeton Airport, Route 206,
609-921-3100. www.princetonairport.com. Get a bird’s eye view
of the Princeton area. Weigh in
pay 20 cents a pound, minimum
of $10 and maximum of $25. Pilots are flight instructors or commercial pilots. 3 to 6 p.m.
Lawrenceville Main Street, 11
Gordon Avenue, Lawrenceville,
609-219-9300. www.LawrencevilleMainStreet.com. Vegetables,
fruits, flowers, herbs, meat, poultry, baked goods. Music, art, and
good causes. 9 a.m. to 2 p.m.
Health & Wellness
Zumba Master Class, Can Do
Fitness Club, 121 Main Street,
Forrestal Village, Plainsboro,
609-514-0500. Free. 9 to 10 a.m.
History
Living History Theater, Pennsbury Manor, 400 Pennsbury
Memorial Road, Morrisville, PA,
215-946-0400. “West Jersey
Quaker: James Wills” focuses on
a trial for a man accused of beating his slave to death. $7 for
adults; $4 for children. 1 to 4 p.m.
Walking Tour, Historical Society
(609) 882-YOGA (9642)
New Location:
Suburban Square Shopping Plaza
Suite 27, Ewing, NJ 08618
Also at: 405 Rt. 130 North, Lower Level
East Windsor, NJ 08520 (609) 918-0963
OPEN HOUSE, SUNDAY, AUGUST 1, 11 AM - 3 PM
Ewing location. Meet teachers, check out space, and register for classes.
GRAND OPENING CELEBRATION Yoga Classes Now in Two Locations - for All Levels!
Beginner Classes • Gentle Yoga • Hatha Yoga
SATURDAY, JULY 31, 7PM
Vinyasa Yoga • Pre-Natal • Kids’ Yoga • Meditation • Workshops • Reiki
Ewing Location. Live Music & Dancing.
Massage • Nutrition • Yoga Teacher Trainings
Special Offer for Ewing:
Drop-in Classes = $10
Unlimited Monthly Pass=$75
(valid for new students only,
1 time use through September 2010.
Please present this ad)
47
48
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
SINGLES
MEN SEEKING WOMEN
Chivalry is not lost. I am a nice-looking, humble, fun-loving single black man
with a good sense of humor; in search of
a good physically fit black woman with
some traditional values. I stand 5’9” and
weigh 196 pounds and I enjoy reading,
writing, good company, walks in the
park, beaches, and going to the movies;
in addition to other things you are free to
ask me about. I work out to keep in
shape and live between Princeton and
Trenton. With the summer underway I
would love to have an exciting, fun-loving, romance-filled escapade with that
special woman. If you are curious and
have something in common with me,
don’t let it get the best of you without giving me consideration. Box 236643
Jewish 62 devoted man - fluent in 6
languages, widower seeks: Jewish
beshert to save him from sin by keeping:
shabbos, kosher, purity? Box 236790
Well-known professional artist, retired art educator, 70s, 6 ft, 180 lbs.,
grandfather of five girls. Enjoys theater,
musical programs, art exhibits. Photo
and phone number appreciated. Box
236262.
PSYCHIC READER & ADVISOR
WOMEN SEEKING MEN
Mrs. Rossland
A good-looking woman, white, looking for a gentleman-type who is very
earthy as well. I am laid back, positive
love people, pets, laugh a lot, smile as
much as possible. I am a larger woman,
plus size, tall, attractive in my early 60s.
I am family-oriented with good moral
values. I am hoping to find a tall, white
man. I love the shore, quiet times, flea
markets, long drives, dining out. I have a
good sense of humor, am not materialistic, am real, honest, and affectionate.
Please send photo with your name and
phone number. Box 236268
Tarot Cards • Psychic Consultation
& Spiritual Meditation
Don’t be discouraged by other readers; Mrs. Rossland is well-known
for her honest and accurate predictions. For over 15 years, Mrs. Rossland
has helped hundreds live a healthier and stress-free life.
She assures you success by advising you in love, business,
marriage, divorce, health and family matters.
$25 Tarot Card Reading
with ad. Reg. $45
609-334-5057 • 2416 Pennington Rd., Pennington, NJ
JUNCTION
BARBER SHOP
33 Hightstown Rd., Princeton Jct.
ELLSWORTH’S CENTER (Near Train Station)
Hrs: Tues - Fri: 10am - 6pm
Sat: 8:30am - 3:30pm
609-799-8554
Happiness is always in season: Attractive, single, Jewish female with red
hair, blue eyes, physically fit, non-smok-
August 8
SINGLES BY MAIL
TO SUBMIT your ad simply send it by mail or fax or E-mail to U.S. 1.
Include your name and the address to which we should send responses
(we will keep that information confidential). We will assign a box number,
print the ad in forthcoming issues of U.S. 1 and forward all responses to
you ASAP. Remember: it’s free, and people can respond to you for just
$1. Good luck and have fun.
(Offer limited to those who work and live in the greater Princeton business community.)
TO RESPOND simply write out your reply, put it in an envelope marked
with the box number you are responding to, and mail that with $1 in cash
to U.S. 1 Singles Exchange, 12 Roszel Road, Princeton 08540.
(We reserve the right to discard responses weighing more than 1 ounce.)
WOMEN SEEKING MEN
WOMEN SEEKING MEN
er in her 60s. Seeking a single Jewish
male in his 50s or 60s who is 5’9” or taller
and is looking for friendship and/or a relationship. Blue collar Jewish men are a
plus and very welcome. Blue collar men
are very happy to see their woman at the
end of the day. Enjoy dining, dancing,
traveling, and exercise. Let’s make the
year 2010 a very special one. In your response, please include your name, age,
and telephone number. Box 236797
Write back, let’s exchange ideas and
see what happens. Box 236774
My birthday wish: DWF, pretty, curvy
“Leo” ISO attractive, available white
male, n/s, 5’10 to 6’1, 38 to 55 years old.
Help me to celebrate my mid-August
birthday. I am hoping to meet someone
who is looking for a dating, romantic relationship. Prefer cleancut, no hirsute
men. Photo please. Box 236082
SBF, early 30s, tall, attractive and
open-minded. In search of a summer
romance filled with fun, excitement, and
lots of laughs with a tall (5’9” and over),
attractive, white male 30-45 years old
looking for the same. I enjoy the usual
dining out, long walks in the park, etc.,
but would love to try something new.
609-570-3333. Presented by
Live Music
Kids Stuff
George Sinkler, The Stockton
Inn, 1 Main Street, Stockton, 609397-1250. Piano with guest vocalists and musicians welcome. 6
to 10 p.m.
NJ Chess Tournament, Hyatt
Place, 3565 Route 1, West Windsor. Open to kindergarten to 8th
graders. All Register online, $30;
on site, $40. 12:10 to 4:55 p.m.
Family Theater
Outdoor Action
Friends of Hopewell Valley Open
Space, Washington Crossing
State Park, Titusville. www.fohvos.org. Help rid natural areas
of invasive plants. All tools provided. Register by E-mail to [email protected] 1 p.m.
Chess
Doren Street, 609-275-2897. For
advanced adult players. 1 to 5
p.m.
Sports
$9 to $12. 5:05 p.m.
Monday
August 9
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
Golfing for Good
Golf Outing, Robert Wood Johnson University Hospital Foundation, Ridge at Back Brook, Ringoes, 732-937-8750. www.rwjuh.edu. Benefit for the children’s
hospital. Register. $500 includes
greens fee, golf cart, barbecue
lunch, snacks, cocktail reception,
buffet dinner, awards, and program. 10:30 a.m.
MEN SEEKING MEN
A very attractive-looking bi white
male, 49, clean, fit, and athletic. Looking to meet the friendship of a fun, fit
white male with a flexible daytime
schedule. All replies with phone number
will be answered. Box 236768
HOW TO ORDER
Singles By Mail: To place your free
ad in this section mail it to U.S. 1, 12
Roszel Road, Princeton 08540, fax it to
609-452-0033, or E-mail it to [email protected]. Be sure to include
a physical address to which we can
send responses.
HOW TO RESPOND
How to Respond: Place your note in
an envelope, write the box number on
the envelope, and mail it with $1 cash to
U.S. 1 at the address above.
Pop Music
Rehearsal, Jersey Harmony
Chorus, 20 Schalks Crossing
www.harmonize.com/jerseyharmony. Workshop series includes vocal lessons in four-part
harmony for women who love to
sing. New members are welcome. Free. 7:15 to 9:30 p.m.
Drama
Edison, 732-548-2884. Musical.
Film
Street, 609-924-8822. Screening
of “Jaws.” Free. 7 p.m.
Literati
New Jersey Writers’ Society
Meeting, West Windsor Library,
333 North Post Road, 609-7990462. 6:30 p.m.
Noodle Talk, Princeton Public
Library, 65 Witherspoon Street,
609-924-5584. Lightly structured
discussion based on personal
questions that embrace the human condition instead of flinching
from it. Led by Noodle Talk’s creator Alan Goldsmith. Free. 7 to
8:45 p.m.
Poetry Reading, Delaware Valley
Poets, Borders Books, Nassau
Park, West Windsor, 609-2036800. www.delawarevalleypoets.com. Readings by John Baldwin
and Louis Slee. Open mic follows.
Free. 7:30 p.m.
History
Historic Tours, Prallsville Mills,
Route 29, Stockton, 609-3973586. www.drms-stockton.org.
Docent tours of the complex and
the John Prall Jr. house. Free. 1
to 4 p.m.
JULY 28, 2010
ART
FILM
LITERATURE
DANCE
DRAMA
U.S. 1
49
MUSIC
PREVIEW
Singles
Literati
Lectures
Coffee and Conversation,
Grover’s Mill Coffee House, 335
Windsor, 609-716-8771. www.groversmillcoffee.com. Coffee,
tea, soup, sandwich, or dessert.
Register at www.meetup.com/Princeton-Area-Singles-Network.
6:30 to 8 p.m.
Writers Anonymous, Barnes &
Noble, 869 Route 1 South, North
Brunswick, 732-545-7860. www.bn.com. Monthly workshop for all
levels. E-mail [email protected] for information. 7 p.m.
Birth of the Movies, West Windsor Library, 333 North Post
Road, 609-799-0462. “Before
there was Hollywood, there was
New Jersey” presented by Gate
Gallison, author of “The Edge of
Ruin,” a tale of movie-making in
Fort Lee that she wrote under the
name of Irene Fleming. 7 p.m.
Princeton Macintosh Users, Stuart Hall, Princeton Theological
Seminary, Alexander Street, 609258-5730. “Cool Stuff Found for
Mac and iPhone” presented by
Dave Hamilton, president of the
Mac Observer. 7:30 p.m.
Food & Dining
Gardening Talk, West Windsor
Senior Center, 271 Clarksville
Road, West Windsor, 609-7999068. “Veggie Tasting” presented
by Trish Verbeyst, master gardener. Register. 10:30 a.m.
Princeton Eats: Cooking with
Local Ingredients, Princeton
Street, 609-924-9529. www.princetonlibrary.org. Chef Denis
Granarola of Witherspoon Bread
Company shares tips for creating
meals using fresh, local ingredients. Register. Free. 10 a.m.
Sports for Causes
Gardens
Golf Outing, Robert Wood Johnson University Hospital Foundation, Ridge at Back Brook, Ringoes, 732-937-8750. www.rwjuh.edu. Benefit for the children’s
hospital. Register. $500 includes
greens fee, golf cart, barbecue
lunch, snacks, cocktail reception,
buffet dinner, awards, and program. 10:30 a.m.
All About Fall Home Lawn Care,
Master Gardeners of Mercer
County, 930 Spruce Street, Trenton, 609-989-6830. www.mgofmc.org. Register. $3. 7 to
8:30 p.m.
For Seniors
Tuesday
August 10
In The Spotlight:
Food For Thought
Princeton Eats: Cooking with
Local Ingredients, Princeton
Street, 609-924-9529. Chef Denis
Granarola of Witherspoon Bread
Company shares tips for creating
meals using fresh, local ingredients. Register. Free. 10 a.m.
Classical Music
Carillon Concert, Princeton University, 88 College Road West,
Princeton, 609-258-3654. Concert on the fifth largest carillon in
the country. Free. 6:30 p.m.
Outdoor Concerts
Greenway Amphitheater at 202
Carnegie Center, 609-452-1444.
Free. Noon to 1:30 p.m.
Concerts on the Landing, Patriots Theater at the War
Memorial, 1 Memorial Drive,
Trenton, 609-984-8400. Keith
Franklin Trio performs. Food
available. Free. Noon to 2 p.m.
Drama
High School Musical, Plays-inthe-Park, Capestro Theater, Roosevelt Park, Route 1 South, Edison, 732-548-2884. Musical.
Film
Movie Series for Seniors,
Princeton Senior Resource
Center, Spruce Circle, Princeton,
609-924-7108. Screening of “The
Young Victoria.” Refreshments.
Limited parking. Register. Free. 1
p.m.
Dancing
Tuesday Night Folk Dance
Group, Princeton, 609-655-0758.
www.princetonfolkdance.org. Instruction and dancing. No partner
needed. Call for location. $3. 7 to
9 p.m.
Health & Wellness
a.m.
Yoga Workshop, Shreyas Yoga,
Chicklet Books, Princeton Shopping Center, 301 North Harrison
Street, 732-642-8895. Yoga in the
Himalayan tradition with Acharya
Girish Jha. Register at
[email protected]. First
class is free. 8:15 a.m. and 6
p.m.
Low Vision, Residence at Forsgate, 319 Forsgate Drive, Monroe, 732-656-1000. Dr. Bethany
Fishbein, clinical director of the
Low Vision Center of Central New
Jersey, presents information
about technologies available to
help with macular degeneration,
glaucoma, cataracts, diabetic
retinopathy, and age-related condition. Register. Free. 10 a.m.
Alzheimer’s Association, Clare
Bridge of Hamilton, 1645 Whitehorse-Mercerville Road, 800-8831180. www.alz.org. 10:30 a.m.
Beginners Yoga Class, Onsen
For All, 4451 Route 27, Princeton, 609-924-4800. www.onsenforall.com. Basic instruction for
those who are new to yoga. Props
used, discussion of the basic principles of alignment. Register. $15.
6 to 7 p.m.
History
Airport Tour, Princeton Airport,
Route 206, 609-921-3100. www.princetonairport.com. Guided tour
focuses on the daily operations of
the airfield as well as the past,
present, and future of the 99-year
old airport. Free. 10:30 a.m.
Kids Stuff
Live Music
Open Mic Night, Grover’s Mill
609-716-8771. 7 p.m.
Outdoor Action
Family Night, Lawrence Nature
Center, 481 Drexel Avenue, Lawrenceville, 609-844-7067. www.lawrencenaturecenter.net. “Storytelling Campfire” presented by
Mike Erdie and Rick Dutko. Rain
or shine. Free. 7 p.m.
Socials
Men’s Circle, West Windsor, 609933-4280. Share, listen, and support other men and yourself. Talk
about relationship, no relationship, separation, divorce, sex, no
sex, money, job, no job, aging
parents, raising children, teens,
addictions, illness, and fear of aging. All men are expected to commit to confidentiality. Call for location. Free. 7 to 9 p.m.
Sports for Causes
Golf Classic, Joshua Harr Shane
Foundation, Mercer Oaks, 725
Village Road West, West Windsor, 609-936-9603. www.joshuaharrshane.org. Golf, lunch, dinner, awards, and auction. Harr
was a volunteer at Princeton
Medical Center, and a member of
FIJI fraternity at Rutgers. Register. $170. 11 a.m.
Wednesday
August 11
Ramadan begins at sundown.
IN THE SPOTLIGHT:
Clear Your Mind
Guided Meditation, Center for
Relaxation and Healing, 666
Plainsboro Road, Suite 635,
Plainsboro, 609-750-7432. www.relaxationandhealing.com. Silent
and guided meditation. Register.
$15. 7 to 8:30 p.m.
Read & Pick on the Farm, Terhune Orchards, 330 Cold Soil
Road, 609-924-2310. www.terhuneorchards.com. Story time,
craft activity, and fruit or vegetable picking. Register. $7. 9:30
and 11 a.m.
Pop Music
For Families
Drama
Yoga and Creative Movement,
The Infinite U, Center for Relaxation and Healing, Plainsboro,
732-407-2847. www.theinfiniteu.com. For families touched by
autism. Register. $42 per family.
5:15 to 6 p.m.
Silver Screens, Starry Nights
John Padovano performs his solo
repertory. Free. 7 p.m.
No Man’s Land, Shakespeare
Theater of New Jersey, F.M. Kirby Theater, Drew University,
Madison, 973-408-5600. www.shakespearenj.org. Dark drama
by Harold Pinter for mature audiences. $31 to $54. 7:30 p.m.
Good Hair Day: Julie Christie and Warren
Beatty star in the 1975 film 'Shampoo,' which
screens on Thursday, August 5 at the Princeton University Art Museum. Bring seating.
609-258-3788. This year marks the museum’s
first outdoor summer film series. All films begin at dusk outside the museum’s main entrance. In case of rain the film screens in
McCormick 101.
Musical. $22. 8 p.m.
High School Musical, Plays-inthe-Park, Capestro Theater, Roosevelt Park, Route 1 South, Edison, 732-548-2884. Musical.
Film
and refreshments to discuss ethical issues with a Harvard professor. Topics: “Arguing Affirmative
Action” and “What’s the Purpose?” Free. 1:30 to 3 p.m.
Dancing
609-924-6763. Instruction followed by dance. $8. 7:30 to
10:30 p.m.
Good Causes
Motorcycle Cruise,
Allentown/Upper Freehold Municipal Alliance, Byron Johnson
Recreation Area, Ellisdale Road,
Allentown, 609-570-5376. www.ufadrugalliance.org. American
stock, metric stock, American
custom, antique, and people’s
choice trophies. Food, vendors,
music, door prizes. Rain date is
Wednesday, August 18. Donations to benefit drug and alcohol
prevention programs invited. 5 to
9 p.m.
Food & Dining
Wherever the Olive Grows,
Mediterra, 29 Hulfish Street,
Princeton, 609-252-9680. www.terramomo.com. “A Celebration of
California.” Register. $45. 6 p.m.
Farmers’ Market
609-298-0604. www.cityofbordentown.com. 4 p.m.
Health & Wellness
Multi-Level Yoga Class, Onsen
For All, 4451 Route 27, Princeton, 609-924-4800. Register. $15.
7 to 8 p.m.
History
609-924-8144. Tour the restored
mansion, galleries, and gardens
before or after tea. Register. $15.
1 p.m.
Live Music
50
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
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Laboratories
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www.princetoncorporateplaza.com • 732-329-3655
Life in the Fast Lane
L
iquid Light is a very-early-stage, venture-backed green
chemical company focused specifically on the conversion of carbon
dioxide to fuels and industrial
chemicals.
“The term is ‘artificial photosynthesis,’” says Kyle Teamey,
COO of Liquid Light, based at
Princeton Corporate Plaza. “Doing
what a plant does, but doing it with
a totally inorganic system.”
The technology that Liquid
Light is trying to scale up was developed at Princeton University
and involves applying catalysts to
carbon dioxide and water, using either electricity or direct sunlight to
drive the process of converting
them back to fuel.
Teamey says the technology is
far enough along to make the leap
from laboratory to marketplace in a
reasonable time frame — which
means about three years. But of
course scaling up comes with its
own set of obstacles. “Anytime
you have a new discovery, there is a
lot of challenge to taking it from
the size of a coffee mug to something that will produce billions of
tons of whatever you are producing,” he says.
But the potential for this technology as an alternative fuel is big
and the cost is right. “This is something that could be competitive
with existing fossil-based fuels,”
says Teamey. “We want to take carbon dioxide out of the smokestack
and convert it to something useful.”
Because energy drives our entire economy, Liquid Light’s primary focus is on fuels. But Teamey
says its products will be important
for the chemical industry as well.
“Everyone thinks of the chemical
industry as separate from oil and
gas, but to a large extent they are
the same,” he says. “Most organic
chemicals are produced from oil
and gas, and the production of fuels
is just a very large chemical
process.”
The technology was created in
the laboratory of Andrew Bocarsly,
a chemistry professor at Princeton
University who works part time for
Liquid Light and advised the doctoral thesis of Emily Cole, a researcher at Liquid Light focused
on scaling up the process.
Teamey found out about the research in Bocarsly’s lab almost by
Edited by Scott Morgan
Light, On Its Feet: Left to right, Nety Krishna
(CEO), Narayanappa Sivasankar (senior scientist), Andrew Bocarsly (founder), Emily Cole (senior scientist), Kyle Teamey (COO), Thomas Mallouk (scientific advisory board), Shaaban El Naggar (advisor), and Fouad El Naggar (board member) of Liquid Light in Princeton Corporate Center.
accident in the course of his work
investigating clean technologies
for California-based capital investment firm Redpoint Ventures,
which he still does part time. He
‘We want to take carbon dioxide out of the
smokestack and convert it to something
useful.’
and Bocarsly founded Liquid
Light, whose CEO, physicist Nety
Krishna, works at Redpoint Ventures.
Liquid Light licensed the technology from Princeton University
and signed a sponsored research
agreement for additional research
and development by a postdoctoral
fellow and a couple of doctoral
candidates. Company research is
also done on site at Liquid Light’s
offices on Deer Park Drive by Cole
and Narayanappa Sivasankar.
Cole earned a bachelor’s degree
in chemistry at the University of
Texas in Austin, which pressed its
undergraduates to get involved
with research. She worked with
Keith Stevenson on trying to create
layers of nanomaterials for sensing
devices. When Cole was visiting
Princeton University, Bocarsly
told her about a carbon dioxide reduction project begun by a previous graduate student but had lain
dormant since 1994. When she arrived in the fall of 2005 she got the
project going again, using energy
from sunlight to make carbon dioxide into methanol.
Sivasankar, after earning his
doctorate in India, where he focused on catalysis, has done postdoctoral work at two well-known
research laboratories. At ETH in
Zurich he worked on hydro-treating oil to purify it by taking out organic nitrogen and sulfur. He came
to the United States, for a simple
reason. “Most of the frontier research in science happens in the
United States,” he says. He did a
second postdoc at the Lawrence
Berkeley National Laboratory,
where he worked on artificial photosynthesis using nanocatalysis.
Teamey grew up in Klamath
Falls, Oregon, a town of 17,000
people whose livelihood revolved
around lumber. “The only time it
makes the news is when there is an
environmental
crisis,”
says
Teamey of Klamath Falls. His
mother was a sixth-grade teacher
and his father a dentist who also
worked for county health boards.
Oregon’s timber industry went
belly up in the late 1980s and early
1990s, devastating the town’s
economy. But because the lumber
industry was so intertwined with
the physical environment issues,
Teamey was exposed to environmental challenges from an early
age.
What brought things to a crisis
point in Klamath Falls was the regional fight over endangered status
for the spotted owl, which lives in
old-growth forest. Once it got the
endangered designation from the
Environmental Protection Agency,
the lumber companies could not
cut down any more old growth.
This decision derailed the industry
— even though by that time only 5
percent of old-growth forest was
left in the state, because the timber
industry had been harvesting wood
at an unsustainable rate.
For young Teamey, the demise
of the timber industry made a big
JULY 28, 2010
impression. “You could see how
private business decisions can degrade the environment in a way
that makes your business go bankrupt,” he says. “The whole sustainability issue was front and center.”
Luckily his hometown has recovered. “Even though it hurt the
town in the short run,” says
Teamey, “it caused the economy to
diversify.” People started doing
value-added work on doors and
windows and technology firms
moved in.
When Teamey went to Dartmouth he studied environmental
engineering. After graduating in
1998 he joined the army to repay
the ROTC scholarship that had put
him through college. He was assigned to a tank unit and spent a
year in Iraq, during a period of relatively low violence when the
army was able to build schools and
develop the local economy and infrastructure.
T
eamey’s interest in energy
began with his work as an undergraduate in a lab that did biofuels
research on cellulosic ethanol. This
research eventually developed into
Mascoma, a company started by
Dartmouth professors that builds
energy projects primarily in the areas of solar, wind, and biomass.
In 2003 and 2004 Teamey
served as an army captain in military intelligence in Ramadi, Iraq.
As a colleague of John Nagl,
whose doctoral work explored
counterinsurgency, Teamey cowrote the counterinsurgency field
manual ordered by General David
Petraeus; the manual was used as a
basis for his strategy in Iraq and
Afghanistan.
As army doctrine, explains
Teamey, “a field manual is sup-
posed to give advice to people on
how to conduct that form of warfare. Instead of fighting tanks,
you’re fighting people with improvised explosive devices.”
When Teamey left the military,
he was a consultant to the Defense
Advanced Research Projects
Agency, which, he explains, “is the
arm of the Department of Defense
that does ‘out there’ technologies.
It literally invented the Internet and
is responsible for pretty much all
major innovation in satellites and
aircraft.” Teamey’s work at the organization mostly involved information technology.
Teamey returned to his engineering roots with an energy startup named Switch, where he gained
experience in the design aspects of
energy products and the finances of
putting them together.
While at Switch he earned a
master’s degree in energy policy
and international finance at Johns
Hopkins.
In 2007, after about three years
with Switch, Teamey left to help
set up a consulting company,
Dunia Frontier Consultants. Dunia
means “earth” in Arabic, Swahili,
Hindi, and 10 other languages, and
the company works with private
equity funds to invest in energy
projects focused primarily on
emerging markets; it is now headquartered in Dubai.
Teamey left Dunia when offered
the opportunity to set up Liquid
Light. He lives in the District of
Columbia, where his wife works,
and he stays over in Princeton several days a week.
Because the company is so early-stage, Teamey is circumspect
about making predictions for Liquid Light’s future.
“If we can reach all of the technical milestones, if we can scale up
effectively, we will have something very interesting,” he says.
“The focus of our effort is still on
scaling the technology, and I would
like it to be up to a pilot scale in the
next two or three years.
But given the Liquid Light’s
short existence, it has been making
a lot of progress. The company has
filed multiple patents for making
more products out of carbon dioxide than originally anticipated.
And for the moment Teamey has
found his niche, bringing together
his early interest in the environment, his engineering background,
and his expertise in working with
start-up companies.
“I’ve always wanted to work in
what I’m working on right now,”
he says.
— Michele Alperin
Liquid Light, 7 Deer Park Drive, Princeton Corporate
Plaza, Suite F, Monmouth
Junction 08852; 732-2742215. Kyle Teamey, COO.
Home page: www.llfuels.com.
U.S. 1
51
Office Opportunities
Pennington, Route 31, Corner
2300 SF-Immediate Occupancy
William Barish - [email protected]
For Sale - Titusville, NJ
4 Bldgs. on 1.42 acres. C-1 commercial/retail.
410 ft. frontage on Rt. 29. All serious offers.
Acquisitions
Johnson & Johnson (JNJ),
One Johnson & Johnson
Plaza,
New
Brunswick
08903; 732-524-0400; fax,
732-214-0332. William C.
Weldon, chairman & CEO.
www.jnj.com.
Johnson & Johnson will acquire
Micrus Endovascular, a San Josebased manufacturer of minimally
invasive devices to address hemorrhagic and ischemic stroke, in a
cash-for-stock deal worth roughly
$480 million. The boards of both
companies have approved the
Al Toto - [email protected]
Office - Pennington Point
450 - 4,400 SF Office
FREE RENT and FLEXIBLE LEASE TERMS.
Immediate occupancy.
Al Toto [email protected]
Visit www.penningtonpointoffice.com
Hopewell Boro, Office/Professional/Records
500-30,000/SF Office & low priced storage, warehouse
William Barish [email protected]
Tree Farm Village - 23,000 SF
1,500-4,500 SF Retail Available Immediately, Liquor License
Available, New Building, Great Location, Flexible Terms
Al Toto [email protected]
www.cpnrealestate.com
For more information and other opportunities, please
call Commercial Property Network, 609-921-8844
52
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
OFFICE FOR LEASE U.S. 1 Classifieds
Ewing Township - 1900 SF
Reception • 3 Large Offices • Conference Room
Kitchen • Storage • Bull Pen Area • First Floor Location
$2600 Per Month - Includes All Utilities
Contact: Al Toto, Senior Vice President
609-921-8844 • Fax: 609-924-9739
[email protected] • Exclusive Broker
Commercial Property Network, Inc.
We Have a Place For Your Company
HOW TO ORDER
Phone, Fax, E-Mail: That’s all it takes
to order a U.S. 1 Classified. Call 609452-7000, or fax your ad to 609-4520033, or use our E-Mail address:
[email protected]. We will
confirm your insertion and the price. It
won’t be much: Our classifieds are just
50 cents a word, with a $7 minimum. Repeats in succeeding issues are just 40
cents per word, and if your ad runs for 16
consecutive issues, it’s only 30 cents
per word. (There is a $3 service charge if
we send out a bill.) Box service is available. Questions? Call us.
OFFICE RENTALS
FOR LEASE
Medical/Professional Office
Princeton, NJ - N. Harrison St.
2200 SF (will consider subdividing)
Convenient to Current and New Hospital
dD
Contact – Phone: (609) 658-9259 - Debra
Fax: (609) 921-0775
Email: [email protected]
COMMERCIAL
DIVISION
186 Princeton-Hightstown Rd.
Windsor Business Park. Two small
suites of 915 & 1030 SF available immediately; please call 609-921-6060 for details.
192 Nassau St. Single office of approx. 400 SF. Available immediately.
Please call 609-921-6060 for details.
194 Nassau Street, 953 sq. ft. office
for lease. Also a 510 SF two-room suite
available. Reception area, three offices,
kitchen, storage, private restroom.
Please call 609-921-6060 for details.
1st Month FREE on select offices:
Princeton Route 1. Single Offices, Office
Suites, Virtual Offices, 50MB High
Speed Internet, Great Reception Team,
Instant Activation, Flexible Terms. Call
609-514-5100 or visit www.princeton-office.com
East Windsor, Route 130: Office in
professional building: 240 SF @ $395.
PREMIER PROPERTY
Ewing Twp - Medical Office. Turnkey 2200 sf medical suite
conveniently located just 3 miles from the new capitol health
facility and I-95. Excellent signage in an attractive and well maintained building. Ready for your occupancy.
OFFICE SPACE
Ewing - Premium finished 1300 SF office space, partially furnished, having
3 private offices and large clerical staff area, kitchenette and storage.
Favorable lease rates.
Ewing Twp. - Economical 1,200+/-SF suite with seven offices, reception,
secretarial area and 1/2 bath. For Sale or Lease.
Ewing - Office - Attractive 4 office suites. 620 SF to 1,368 SF. Close to I-95,
U.S. 1 & Princeton. LOW GROSS RENT.
Montgomery Twp. - Economical office suites, 550 SF, 204 +/- SF
& 211 +/- SF, which can be combined for 1,335 +/- SF. Lease. On 206.
North Brunswick - 3,315 SF single story building office/retail. Available
for lease.
Pennington - New construction. Suites available from 1,000 SF to 4,660 SF.
Still time to provide your input for interior finish.
Pennington - Two (2) suites available for lease. 1,584 +/- SF. Rt. 31 near I-95.
Princeton - Central business district, opposite library. Second floor, front,
single office with private bath. 312 SF.
Princeton Junction - User or Investor Opportunity. Two story masonry building
containing 8 suites from 400 SF to 3000 SF FOR SALE. PRICE REDUCED!
Suites – 400, 600 and 1,269 SF available FOR LEASE.
RETAIL SPACE
Ewing - 2400 SF end cap retail. Located in a neighborhood shopping center
on the corner of N. Olden and Parkside. Available for lease.
Ewing Twp. - Ideal for food use. 1,000 SF to 2,000 SF available for lease
located in neighborhood shopping center.
Montgomery Twp. - Just outside of Princeton on Route 206, 1200 SF for lease.
COMMERCIAL BUILDINGS
Ewing Twp. - 4,530 SF shop/warehouse - sale or lease.
Hamilton Twp - Community Commercial zone. Allows retail and office use.
Located on a 4 lane highway close to 295. 2 lots, 1 with a residence
and 1 vacant. Being sold as a package.
Hamilton Twp. - 3,840 SF warehouse space available for lease.
Hamilton Twp. - 2000 SF building suitable for office or retail. Parking for 21 cars.
1 mile to full interchange of I-95. Available FOR SALE.
North Brunswick - 3,315 SF of space available for your use in this 8,315 SF
single story building. Office/retail, zoned C-1. Available for sale.
LAND
Hamilton Twp - Community Commercial zone. Allows retail and office use.
Located on a 4 lane highway close to 295. 2 lots, 1 with a residence
and 1 vacant. Being sold as a package.
Hamilton Twp - Development opportunity includes Engineering drawings
for development of 15,200 +/- sf, 1.9 acres in Mercerville section.
Ewing Twp. - 2.07 acres FOR SALE in professional, research, office zone,
one mile south of I-95, Merrill Lynch facility and Capital Health’s new $400
million hospital. Ideal for medical group.
Lawrence Twp. - .2.28 +/- acres in professional office zoning.
West Amwell Twp. - 5.4 +/- acres zoned highway commercial, conceptual plan
with some permits for 15,592 +/- SF bldg.
Weidel Realtors Commercial Division
2 Route 31 South • Pennington, N.J. 08534
609-737-2077
CCIM
Individual Member
Certified Commercial
Investment Member
transaction, which now must be approved by stockholders.
The news comes on top of a July
15 announcement that Johnson &
Johnson will lay off hundreds of
workers at its manufacturing plant
in Fort Washington, Pennsylvania,
as a result of a major Tylenol recall
that has idled that plant.
On the other hand, this is the
pharma giant’s second foray into
the stroke technology market. Last
year, Johnson & Johnson expanded
its neurosciences division to form a
new business unit named Codman.
Management Moves
MISTRAS Holdings Group/Physical Acoustics Corp.
(MG), 195 Clarksville Road,
Princeton Junction 08550;
609-716-4000; fax, 609-7160706. Sotirios Vahaviolos,
CEO. www.pacndt.com.
MISTRAS, a manufacturer of
acoustic emission, ultrasonic and
eddy current testing instruments
has named Francis Joyce its new
CFO. He replaces Paul Peterik,
who retired in March.
A 30-year veteran of executivelevel business, Joyce most recently
OFFICE RENTALS
OFFICE RENTALS
AREA OFFICE RENTALS
Princeton,
Trenton,
Hamilton, Hopewell,
Montgomery,
For All Your
Commercial
Real Estate
Needs
Ewing,in
Hightstown,
Lawrenceville
and
other
Mercer,
Mercer and Surrounding Area.
Somerset & Middlesex Communities. Class A, B and
Sale orAvailable.
Lease • Office • Warehouse
C Space
Retail and Business Opportunities
For
For details
ondetails
space on space
rates, contact:
and rates,and
contact
Weidel Commercial 609-737-2077
www.WeidelCommercial.com
Call 609-730-0575.
otherwise. Call or E-mail Henry at 609497-2929; [email protected].
Large office available. Kingston Professional Buildings, 4499 Rt. 27, Village
of Kingston. Close to Princeton and Rt.
1. Outdoor patio, quiet area. Ideal for
single practitioner attorney, accountant,
therapist, nutritionist and others. Utilities
and common area charges included
$975/mo. Please reply to: [email protected] or call 609-915-4095.
Lawrenceville: Psychotherapy/ Professional Service Office Space for Rent.
3rd Floor Office Suite in Lawrenceville, 2
offices available with shared waiting and
group therapy rooms. Handicapped accessible. Copier, fax machine and
kitchen included. High speed internet
available. Great location on Princeton
Pike. Immediate availability. Contact
Rosemarie at 267-391-7351.
Montgomery Knoll: Skillman address. CPA with 1,500 SF space wishes
to sublet 12’x12’ ground floor windowed
office. $400 to a CPA or attorney, $500
served as CFO of the Macquarie
Infrastructure Company, which
provides services in the general
aviation, bulk liquid storage, gas
utility, district cooling, and airport
parking industries.
Prior to the Macquarie Group,
Joyce was CFO of IMAX Corporation and TheGlobe.com. He started
his career in public accounting at
KPMG in New York.
Joyce holds a bachelor’s in accounting from the University of
Scranton and an MBA in finance
from Fordham.
Leaving Town
Gannett Fleming Inc., 3575
Quakerbridge Road, Hamilton. www.gannettfleming.com.
Gannett Fleming, an environmental engineering firm headquartered in Camp Hill, Pennsylvania,
and which has dozens of regional
offices in the U.S. and Canada, has
left its Hamilton location.
The firm remains in New Jersey
and can be reached at its South
Plainfield office at 908-755-0040.
Quantum Integrators Group
LLC, 3371 Route 1 South,
Lawrenceville. www.quantumintegrators.com.
Pennington - Hopewell: Straube
Center Office from virtual office, 12 to
300 square feet and office suites, 500 to
2,400 square feet. From $100 per
month, short and long term. Storage
space, individual signage, conference
rooms, copier, Verizon FIOS available,
call
609-737-3322
or
e-mail
[email protected] www.straubecenter.com
PENNINGTON. Furnished private office in a five-office suite. Fax, copier and
kitchen. $500/month. Call Frank at 609896-1125.
Plainsboro - 700 SF to 3,000 SF Office Suites: in single story building in
well maintained office park off Plainsboro Road. Immediately available. Individual entrance and signage, separate
AC/Heat and electricity. Call 609-7992466 or E-mail [email protected]
Quantum Integrators, an IT firm
that provides consulting, support,
outsourcing, and software for managing business data, appears to
have left its office in Lawrence
Commons.
The company’s phone lines no
longer connect to a business or are
out of service. There is no forwarding information.
The company also had an accounting office on East State Street
Extension in Hamilton that could
not be reached.
N.L. Garlic Law, 197 Berg Avenue, Hamilton.
Nicole Lemire Garlic appears to
have left her real estate and construction law practice in Hamilton.
Her company’s phone and fax
numbers have been disconnected
and its website no longer exists.
Deaths
Sandra Eastmead, 63, on July
20. She was an executive secretary
for the state Department of Human
Services and a longtime employee
at P.C.F. Distribution.
Jennifer Ross, 40, on July 18.
She was the director of marketing
at Gallup Organization.
WOODSIDE AT THE OFFICE CENTER
Plainsboro, New Jersey
Available for Immediate Occupancy.
Suites from 750 to 2,000 Sq. Ft.
Also, Medical Office with 2 Exam Rooms.
Modern, One-Story Office Buildings
•
609-799-0220
Park-Like Setting
JULY 28, 2010
OFFICE RENTALS
HOUSING FOR RENT
FINANCIAL SERVICES
Princeton Junction: Prof. Office
space in highly visible spot near trains,
Princeton Hospital, highways. Reasonable rents. Units from $450 to $6000 per
month. Call Ali at Re/Max of Princeton
609-452-1887 or cell 609-902-0709.
Hamilton Square: one bedroom, living room, dining area and kitchen on private treed lot near MCCC $773, heat included, available August. 609-5295891.
Are you having a problem with your
mortgage? Is your mortgage in trouble?
Ask me how: 732-438-0347.
Princeton Office Space — Heart of
downtown up to 6 offices available with
shared conference, file storage and coffee rooms. Professional non-therapeutic uses only with low client traffic. 609252-1111
Princeton Office Suite for Rent 134
Nassau Street. Excellent central business district location. 2,000 SF with reception, conference, plus five private offices and spacious office gallery. Weinberg Management, 609-924-8535,
www.weinbergmanagement.com
Princeton Prof. Park, Rt. 1 / Raymond Rd. 600 sq. ft. 2-rm. office condo
Ideal CPA’s, Attorneys, Medical. Call
609-918-9182 or 609-647-6727.
Princeton-Nassau Street: Sublet 24 rooms, 2nd floor, includes parking/utilities. Call 609-924-6270. Ask for Wendy.
Single story office building available. 2100 s.f. Kingston Professional
Buildings, 4499 Rt. 27, Village of
Kingston. Ideal for law firms, accounting
firms, other professional groups. Quiet
area, outdoor patio available. $23/s.f.
Email [email protected] or call
609-915-4095
BUSINESSES FOR SALE
Hobby Shop For Sale 23 years in
business, prime location! Hamilton
Township, Mercer County N.J. Only serious inquiries. Call 609-586-2282, Mon.Sat., 10 a.m. - 6 p.m.
COMMERCIAL SPACE
Commercial property for sale,
Hamilton Township (Mercer County),
prime location! Call 609-586-2282, ask
for Harvey, between 10 a.m. - 6 p.m.,
Mon.-Sat.
HAMILTON & LAMBERTVILLE O F F I C E / F L E X / W H / C R E AT I V E
SPACES! 150 to 35,000 SF available.
Hard to find small spaces at CHEAP
pricing - from $395/mo! Hi ceilings, hispeed ready, loading docks, great locations. Brian @ 609 731 0378 or [email protected].
WAREHOUSE/office space 7,200
sqft & 2,500 sqft new construction can
modify to your needs. Dayton location,
Cranbury address, 12 ft drive-in door.
Best deal around. Call Russ 732-3296991, email [email protected].
INVESTMENT
PROPERTY
Prices are down, mortgage rates
are down, stocks are down. Now may
be the best time to invest in real estate.
Call Linda Feldstein, Investment Consultant, Weidel Realtors, 609-921-2700
ext. 227, [email protected].
REAL ESTATE
SERVICES
FREE Quick over-the-net Home
Evaluation
www.homevaluesbyphone.com. RE/MAX Tri County.
HOUSING FOR RENT
Adult Community Rental, Mansfield Township, 4 Seasons: Single
family, two bedrooms, two baths,
garage, two pools, total gym. Available
October 1. $1,900 plus utilities. 609-3241534. Open house August 1, 12-4 p.m.
Princeton: Executive 5BR 2.5 bath
home on 2 acres, pool, woods, Herrontown area. Available immediately.
609-924-2809.
CONTRACTING
Handyman/Yardwork: Painting/Carpentry/Masonry/Hauling/All Yard Work
from top to bottom. Done by pros. Call
609-737-9259 or 609-273-5135.
CLEANING SERVICES
Window Washing: Lolio Window
Washing. Also gutter cleaning and power washing. 609-271-8860.
HOME MAINTENANCE
Bill’s Custom Services: Residential
repairs and carpentry. Practical approach, reasonable rates, local references — 32 years in business. 609-5321374.
Handyman: A small job or big job will
be accepted for any project around the
house that needs a handyman service
with free estimates. Please call my cell
phone 609-213-8271.
robthehandyman- licensed, insured,
all work guaranteed. Free Estimates.
We do it all - electric, plumbing, paint,
wallpaper, powerwashing, tile, see website
for
more:
robthehandyman.vpweb.com [email protected], 609-269-5919.
Bookkeeping Services for Your
Bottom Line: Certified QuickBooks
ProAdvisor. Call Joan today at Kaspin
Associates, 609-490-0888.
TAX SERVICES
Tax Preparation and Accounting
Services: For individuals and small
businesses. Notary, computerized tax
preparation, paralegal services. Your
place or mine. Fast response, free consultation, reasonable costs. Gerald
Hecker, 609-448-4284.
HEALTH
U.S. 1
Office Condo for Lease
Montgomery Knoll, Tamarack Circle
1900 SF • Ideal medical setting
5 windowed offices • Bullpen
Reception • Bath
Private entrance • Ample parking
Call 908-281-5374 • Meadow Run Properties
SALE/LEASE 2,820 Sq. ft. Prof. Office Bldg.
Introductory Massage Special $60: at the Ariel Center for Wellbeing. Integrative, Swedish, Spiritual Mind Treatment. Four hands available with Krista
and Meryl. By appointment only. 609454-0102.
JAZZERCISE. is pure fun. Group fitness class combining cardio, strength &
stretch. All ages, levels and sizes are
welcome. You’ll burn 500 calories in a
60-minute Jazzercise class. For Special
Deals and Class info: www.jazzplainsboro-windsors.com, 609-890-3252.
ASKING: $495,000
OWN W/ TENANT
3673 Quakerbridge Road - former law office. Buy w/ 1,000 sq. ft. tenant
in place or lease 1,820 sq. ft. in move-in condition. 14 car parking, great
highway signage. Available Immediately.
ALL REASONABLE OFFERS CONSIDERED.
RIDOLFI REALTORS
609-581-4848
AVAILABLE FOR LEASE
DECKS REFINISHED
Cleaning/Stripping and Staining of
All Exterior Woods: Craftsmanship
quality work. Fully insured and licensed
with references. Windsor WoodCare.
609-799-6093.
www.windsorwoodcare.com.
BUSINESS SERVICES
A - 1 Message Center - Remote receptionist, 24/7, professional & courteous. Ideal for afterhour messages,
emergency patch throughs and appointment scheduling. Very reasonable
rates. Located in Mercerville. www.A1messagecenter.com or 609-587-8577.
Bookkeeper/Administrative Specialist: Versatile & experienced professional will gladly handle your bookkeeping and/or administrative needs. Many
services available. Reasonable rates.
Work done at your office or mine. Call
Debra @ 609-448-6005 or visit www.vyours.com.
Virtual Assistance @ Your Finger
Tips! Executives On The Go! pampering the busy executive, helping you
manage your life off and on the road. For
more info: 800-745-1166 www.executivesonthego.com
Your Perfect Corporate Image:
Princeton Route 1. Virtual Offices, Offices, Receptionist, Business Address
Service, Telephone Answering Service,
Conference Rooms, Instant Activation,
Flexible Terms. Call 609-514-5100 or
visit www.princeton-office.com
COMPUTER SERVICES
Computer repair, upgrade, data recovery, or maintenance. Free estimate. Call (cell) 609-213-8271.
CLASSIFIED BY EMAIL
[email protected]
53
650 to 6,000 SF — $900 to $8,000/mo.
Condos for SALE from $150/SF
168 Franklin Corner Road, Lawrence Twp.
Easy access to Rts. 1, 206 & I-295 • Ample Parking
dD
Princeton Township - Office/Retail
• 812 State Road (Rt. 206) 135-850 SF — $185-$1,200/mo.
Princeton Borough - Office/Retail
• 195 Nassau Street $600-$700/mo. Individual Offices
Princeton Junction - Office/Med/Prof
• 825-1872 SF — $1,250-$2,800/mo.
• Walk to Train Station 5 Minutes Max.
Lawrence Township - Office/Med/Prof - Lease or Condo Sale
• 2500 Brunswick Pike (Rt. 1) 422-1,600 SF — $465-$1,750/mo.
Rocky Hill - Office/Med/Prof - Lease or Condo Sale
• 1026 Rt. 518 500-9,700 SF — $1,400-$16,000/mo.
Hamilton - Office/Flex
• Whitehorse Commercial Park 600-2,500 SF — $700-$3,000/mo
• 2101 East State Street 3,300-9,900 SF
Bordentown - Retail/Office/Prof
• 101 Farnsworth 250-950 SF — $275-$1,000/mo.
• 102 Farnsworth 1,350-1,500 SF — $1,450-$2,850/mo.
• 3 Third Street 1,000-2,375 SF — $1,100-$2,500/mo.
Forsgate Exit A - Retail/Office/Prof
• One Rossmoor Drive 1,700-2,100 SF — $2,500-$3,000/mo.
Thompson Realty 609-921-7655
54
U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
U.S. 1 Employment Exchange
HOW TO ORDER
HELP WANTED
CAREER SERVICES
JOBS WANTED
Phone, Fax, E-Mail: That’s all
it takes to order a U.S. 1 Classified. Call 609-452-7000, or fax
your ad to 609-452-0033, or use
our
E-Mail
address:
[email protected]. We
will confirm your insertion and
the price. It won’t be much: Our
classifieds are just 50 cents a
word, with a $7 minimum. Repeats in succeeding issues are
just 40 cents per word, and if your
ad runs for 16 consecutive issues, it’s only 30 cents per word.
(There is a $3 service charge if
we send out a bill.) Box service is
available. Questions? Call us.
skills are required the rest we can
teach. Call Marc 609-631-0050 or
send resume to [email protected]
921-8401 or 732-873-1212 (License #2855)
Facilities and Warehouse
Manager: Experienced handson professional with expertise in
warehousing, shipping, receiving, purchasing, and inventory
management. Facility preventative maintenance, security & surveillance operations are also a
specialty. Strong analytical, negotiating, budgeting and recordkeeping skills. Extensive knowledge of and compliance with OSHA regulations. IATA & DOT
chemical certification. Please
call 609-273-1811.
Mall Marketing Demonstrator: Greet & Promote for National Award Winning kitchen company at local mall(s). Competitive hourly & unlimited bonuses.
Call Now 888-292-6502 ext. 86.
Marketing/editorial manager for sports business online
subscription market research
and publications database.
Excellent opportunity for the right
person. At least 2 years online
experience required. Journalism
experience helpful. Resume
should include your marketing
achievements. Princeton location, some travel. Send resume
with references to SBRnet.com
PO Box 2378 Princeton, NJ
08543.
HELP WANTED
Client Assistant: Part time
position in East Windsor. Start
out working 10 hours per week
with potential 20 hours after
training period. Bookkeeping experience, excellent organizational and communication skills and
business computer knowledge
are all required. Please email resume with salary requirements
and
references
to:
[email protected].
Property Inspectors: Parttime $30k, full-time $80k. No experience, will train. Call Tom,
609-731-3333.
Quality
engineer/technician: Princetel; Local fiber optic
component
manufacturer;
Adding full/part time quality staff;
Qualification: intensive experience with ISO process; Pennington currently (Hamilton summer
2011); More info: www.princetel.com/career.asp; Resume: [email protected].
Editor: Work from home and
proof federal court transcripts.
Will supervise a small team.
Work 25 hours per week during
business hours. Income to $35
per hour, plus bonuses. Must
have transcription experience, 4year college degree, and type 70
words per minute. Send resume
CAREER SERVICES
Local Hamilton NJ software
consulting firm seeks part time
telemarketer to prospect and
qualify companies. $10-$12/hr
plus incentive bonuses, 30-40
hours per week. Excellent people
Job Worries? Let Dr. Sandra
Grundfest, licensed psychologist
and certified career counselor,
help you with your career goals
and job search skills. Call 609-
JOBS WANTED
Job Hunters: If you are looking for a full-time position, we
will run a reasonably worded
classified ad for you at no
charge. We reserve the right to
edit the ads and to limit the number of times they run. If you require confidentiality, send a
check for $4 with your ad and request a U.S. 1 Response Box.
Replies will be forwarded to you
at no extra charge. Mail or Fax
your ad to U.S. 1 Jobs Wanted,
12 Roszel Road, Princeton, NJ
08540. You must include your
name, address, and phone number (for our records only).
Bookkeeping Newly retired
bookkeeper with years of experience is looking for clients who
are busy with other matters. Experienced in A/P, A/R, collection,
cash applications, and overall
bookkeeping needs. Organized
and honest. Will work from home
and at reasonable rates. You
may contact me at 732-3559686
or
by
email
at
[email protected].
Business Development, Licensing, Marketing Professional in Life Sciences and Software Industries. Particularly
adept in growing sales, creating
preemptive strategies, building
portfolios and relationships. I
bring in-depth experience, high
energy, resourcefulness and
leadership. E-mail [email protected] or call (908)
240-4430.
HELP WANTED
WeTheHOpportunities
ave
are You
What
Endless...
Need
J&J Staffing Resources, has been a leader in
the employment industry since 1972.
We specialize in: Direct Hire, Temp to Hire
and Temporary Placements.
Management professional
with over 15 years experience
looking for full-time position.
Experienced with an exceptional
track record in senior-level project management, process & procedure
design/development,
training delivery and analysis of
enterprise training and development initiatives. My specialized
expertise in corporate-wide software initiatives as well as advanced training, measurement,
technology, and methodology allows me to offer significant
added value in process and human resource performance improvement. I am unemployed
and could begin working immediately. Box 236799
Mechanical Engineer available for FT/PT employment. Experienced as an Engineering
Manager in a large manufacturing environment with heavy
process equipment. Supervised
both engineers and an hourly
unionized work force. As a Plant
Engineer I managed all aspects
of a 1/2 million sq. ft. facility, including process and design elements in the manufacturing
process. Call David @ 609-4484271.
HELP WANTED
Administrative
Assistants
ADMINISTRATIVE
• LEGAL
SECRETARIES
Executive
Assistants
CUSTOMER SERVICE • ACCOUNTING
Receptionists/Customer
Service
CLERICAL • WAREHOUSE
Warehouse/Light Industrial
J&J STAFFING RESOURCES
103 Carnegie
Center,
Suite 107
103 Carnegie
Center
Princeton,
N.J.NJ
08540
Princeton,
609-452-2030
609-452-2030
WWW.JJSTAFF.COM
EOE “Staffing Success Begins Here” NO FEE
JOBS WANTED
JOBS WANTED
Software Quality Assurance
Manager, who lives locally and
works in New York City, wants
to work locally. I’m looking for
the challenge of starting a software QA department for an area
company. I have more than ten
years of experience in writing
and execution of test cases and
test plans. I regularly set up test
environments, including virtual
machines, in addition to assigning software testing tasks to QA
staff based on their strengths
and current workloads. Please
call 609-223-9196.
HEALTH
MENTAL HEALTH
INSTRUCTION
MERCHANDISE MART
ANIMALS
Massage and Reflexology: The
benefits are beyond what we even fathom. Experience deep relaxation, heightened well-being, improved health. Holistic practitioner offering reflexology,
Swedish and shiatsu massage. Available for on-site massage at the work
place, etc. Gift certificates, flexible
hours. Call Marilyn 609-403-8403.
Having problems with life issues?
Stress, anxiety, depression, relationships... Free consultation. Working in
person or by phone. Rafe Sharon, Psychoanalyst 609-683-7808.
Lessons in Your Home: Music lessons in your home. Piano, clarinet, saxophone, flute and guitar. Call Jim 609737-9259 or 609-273-5135.
1966 Live Action TV series Batmobile Replica Only 2,500 made, retails
$250, now $180. Also comic books, variant covers, action figures. Send me your
wants. E-mail [email protected], 848-459-4892.
Dog Walking: Working late? Leave
the walking to us. Mydogwalks.com is a
private dog walking service, we keep
your pets happy and safe. $15.50 per 30
minutes and $4 for second dog. 877-87My Dog.
Computer P4 with XP: In good condition $120. Cell phone (609)213-8271.
PERSONALS
Massage Therapy: Upscale, classy
est. staff. Enjoy our hot pack service, an
oasis for your soul and spirit. Enjoy the
deep tissue and healing touch of our
friendly, certified massage therapists.
Call: 609-520-0050. (Princeton off
Route 1 Behind “Pep Boys Auto.”)
Oriental Massage Therapy: Deep
tissue, Swedish, Shiatsu, Reflexology
by experienced Therapists, Princeton
Junction off Route 1. Call 609-514-2732
for an appointment.
Reflexology massage by European
staff on Route 1 next to Princeton BMW
car dealership. 609-716-1070.
CLASSIFIED BY PHONE
609-452-7000
INSTRUCTION
ADHD COACHING- Adults, students,
& parents of children challenged with attentional issues, time management, procrastination, disorganization. Our experienced, certified coaching team will help
you find effective strategies and tools.
609.683.0077, [email protected], www.odysseycoaches.com
“A Mentor” Helping you be the best
person you can be. Mr. C. Free consultation. Cell 609-658-7588, 732-716-0904.
Bass Lessons Electric and Acoustic,
beginners through advanced. Former
faculty Berklee College, Rutgers jazz
department. Joe Macaro: 732-5458922, [email protected].
ESL, conversation for adults 609751-6615. [email protected]. http://www.saraspeaksenglish.com
COMMERCIAL REAL ESTATE
Math & Chemistry Tutoring: FullTime, Experienced High School Teacher
(20 years). Algebra through Pre-Calc;
Regular, Honors, and AP Chem. Call
Matt 609-919-1280.
Music Lessons - Farrington’s Music: Piano, guitar, drum, sax, clarinet, F.
horn, voice, flute, trumpet, violin, banjo,
mandolin, harmonica. $28 half hour.
School of Rock. Join the band! Princeton 609-924-8282. Princeton Junction
609-897-0032. Hightstown 609-4487170. www.farringtonsmusic.com.
Private knitting or sewing lessons
with experienced teacher. Call 609-7516615.
ENTERTAINMENT
One Man Band: Keyboardist for your
party. Perfect entertainment. Great variety. Call Ed at 609-424-0660.
COMMERCIAL REAL ESTATE
Available for Lease
Pennsylvania - Bucks County - Retail/Office/Prof
• The Gatherings 800-1,075 SF —
$1,200-$1,500/mo.
• Woodbourne Professional 100-1,925 SF —
$110-$2,000/mo.
• Hyde Park 2,696 SF — $19.50/SF/YR
Thompson Realty 609-921-7655
OLD TOWN CANOE, very light,
green, one seat. Best offer over $250.
609-921-2774.
MUSICAL
INSTRUMENTS
I Buy Guitars and All Musical Instruments in Any Condition: Call Rob at 609457-5501.
WANTED TO BUY
Antique Military Items: And war
relics wanted from all wars and countries. Top prices paid. “Armies of the
Past LTD”. 2038 Greenwood Ave.,
Hamilton Twp., 609-890-0142. Our retail
outlet is open Saturdays 10 to 4:00, or by
appointment.
Wanted: Baseball, football, basketball, hockey. 1900-1980 cards, autographs, memorabilia. Up to $1,000,000
available. Licensed corporation will travel. All calls confidential. 4thelovofcards,
908-596-0976. [email protected].
PAINTING
Free Classifieds for Singles: To
submit your ad simply fax it to 609-4520033 or E-mail to [email protected]. If you prefer to mail us your
ad, address it to U.S. 1 Singles Exchange, 12 Roszel Road, Princeton, NJ
08540. Include your name and the address to which we should send responses. We will assign a box number and forward all replies to you ASAP. People responding to your ad will be charged just
$1. See the Singles Exchange at the end
of the Preview Section.
HOW TO ORDER
Call 609-452-7000, or fax your ad to
609-452-0033, or use our E-Mail address: [email protected]. We
will confirm your insertion and the price.
It won’t be much: Our classifieds are just
50 cents a word, with a $7 minimum. Repeats in succeeding issues are just 40
cents per word, and if your ad runs for 16
consecutive issues, it’s only 30 cents
per word. (There is a $3 service charge if
we send out a bill.) Box service is available. Questions? Call us.
PAINTING
Summer Painting
INTERIOR/EXTERIOR • POWER WASHING • REPAIRS
Power Washing • Perfect Preparation • Decks Stained & Sealed
Interior & Exterior Painting • Expert Carpentry Repairs
Certified - EPA - Lead Paint Renovating
and Licensed NJ State Home Improvement Contractor
“Professional Painting Pays!...In Many Ways”
A 2008 Historic
Restoration
Award Winner
Call 609-924-1474
Julius H. Gross, Inc.
A Princeton Business for Over 40 years
www.juliushgrosspainting.com • [email protected]
JULY 28, 2010
Albert would have found
the opportunity incalculable.
Throughout history, some of America’s most notable individuals
have chosen to call Princeton “home.” Now it’s your turn.
Introducing The Residences at Palmer Square, the first and only collection
of luxury homes in downtown Princeton. These one-of-a-kind townhomes
and condominiums put you right where you want to be.
Condominiums priced from $1.25m
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This is where luxury lives, in downtown Princeton.
Palmer Square Management, LLC
53 Hulﬁsh Street
Princeton NJ 08542
609.924.3884
Web: PalmerSquareResidences.com
Mobile: PalmerSquareResidences.com/mobi
Find us at
twitter.com/PrincetonLiving
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facebook.com/TheResidencesPalmerSquare
U.S. 1
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Opportunities...
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MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
Cheryl Stites
$429,000
HendersonSIR.com/555386
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HILLSBOROUGH TOWNSHIP
S. BRUNSWICK (Realtor owned)
CRANBURY
Margaret Coghlan
$479,900 Janet Stefandl
$499,900 Roberta Marlowe
$725,000 Cheryl Stites
$759,000
HendersonSIR.com/555105 HendersonSIR.com/555261 HendersonSIR.com/555333 HendersonSIR.com/555249
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EAST BRUNSWICK
HOPEWELL BOROUGH
$399,000
Fass/WierzbickiTeam $280,000 Donna Levine
HendersonSIR.com/555283 HendersonSIR.com/555270
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
CRANBURY
Fass/Wierzbicie Team $515,000 Roberta Marlowe
$650,000
EAST BRUNSWICK
Gayle Ciallella
$159,900
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
EWING TOWNSHIP
PRINCETON BOROUGH
WEST WINDSOR
$550,000 Kathryn Baxter
Shelia Graham
$309,000 Elisabeth Crowley
$425,000 Christina Phillips
$685,000
ROBBINSVILLE (2.74 acre lot)
Roberta Marlowe
$200,000
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
EWING TOWNSHIP
$435,000
Donna Matheis
$319,000 Cheryl Stites
LAWRENCE TOWNSHIP
PRINCETON TWP (includes house)
Matthew Henderson $589,000 Cheryl Stites
$690,000
HOPEWELL TOWNSHIP (condo)
Raymond Disch
$215,000
LAWRENCE TOWNSHIP
HOPEWELL TOWNSHIP
$360,000 Margaret Baldwin
$469,000
Kathryn Baxter
PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
Christina Phillips
$625,000 Valerie Smith
$739,000
Lorna Drummond
$220,000
PRINCETON BOROUGH
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
HOPEWELL TOWNSHIP
$645,000 Valerie Smith
$745,000
Martha Giancola
$374,500 Vanessa Gronczewski $499,000 Ronald Connor
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PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
Realtor® Owned
$789,000
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HOPEWELL TOWNSHIP
Susan Hughes
$234,500
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MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
WEST WINDSOR
MONTGOMERY TWP (10 acre lot) HOPEWELL TWP (30+ acres)
$750,000
Susan Norman
$374,900 Martha “Jane” Weber $499,900 Martha “Jane” Weber $649,000 Raymond Disch
= Open House
NL = NEW LISTING
NP = NEWLY PRICED
Visit HendersonSIR.com for personalized driving directions to this weekend’s open houses.
© MMX Sotheby’s International Realty Affiliates LLC. A Realogy Company. All Rights Reserved. Sotheby’s International Realty® is a registered trademark licensed to Sotheby’s International Realty Affiliates LLC.
An Equal Opportunity Company. Equal Housing Opportunity. Each Office Is Independently Owned And Operated. Subject to errors, omissions, prior sale or withdrawal without notice.
JULY 28, 2010
U.S. 1
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PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
HOPEWELL TOWNSHIP
PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
$2,250,000
$1,495,000 Kimberly Rizk
Susan Hughes
$909,500 Owen Jones Toland $1,195,000 Stephen Thomas
HOPEWELL TOWNSHIP
Margaret Baldwin
$775,000
He nders o nS I R. co m/5 5 5 0 3 6
ROCKY HILL (Commercial)
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
LAWRENCE TOWNSHIP
Carolyn Spohn
$910,000 Kimberly Rizk
$2,395,000
$1,195,000 Also available for rent. $1,600,000. Martha Moseley
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MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
Laurie Lincoln
$755,000
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HOPEWELL TOWNSHIP
Owen Jones Toland
$795,000
PRINCETON BOROUGH
PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
$1,695,000 Kimberly Rizk
$1,250,000 Ronald Connor
$2,595,000
Valerie Smith
$924,900 Kimberly Rizk
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HOPEWELL TOWNSHIP
Owen Jones Toland
$799,000
PRINCETON BOROUGH
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
$1,295,000
64 farm acres!
$995,0000 Peggy Henderson
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
Valerie Smith
$799,000
PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
LAWRENCE TOWNSHIP
PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
Kevin Smith
$995,000 Owen Jones Toland $1,395,000 Matthew Henderson $1,795,000 Peggy Henderson
$2,650,000
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
Margaret Coghlan
$839,900
PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
$1,425,000 Princeton address
Mary“Molly“ Finnell $1,050,000 Janet Stefandl
$2,945,000
$1,995,000 Lake Carnegie
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
Carolyn Spohn
$875,000
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
LAWRENCE TOWNSHIP
MONTGOMERY TOWNSHIP
HAMILTON TWP. (52 acre farm)
$8,500,000
Margaret Coghlan
$1,149,000 Mary“Molly” Finnell $1,465,000 Barbara Dressler
$2,100,000 Martha Giancola
HOPEWELL TOWNSHIP
PRINCETON TOWNSHIP
Sarah Strong Drake $1,760,000 Jane Kenyon
$2,600,000
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MONTGOMERY
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609.395.0444
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908.874.0000
609.737.9550
609.924.1000
© MMX Sotheby’s International Realty Affiliates LLC. A Realogy Company. All Rights Reserved. Sotheby’s International Realty® is a registered trademark licensed to Sotheby’s International Realty Affiliates LLC.
An Equal Opportunity Company. Equal Housing Opportunity. Each Office Is Independently Owned And Operated. Subject to errors, omissions, prior sale or withdrawal without notice.
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Cell: 609-915-0206
Office: 609-924-1600
[email protected]
253 Nassau Street
Princeton, NJ 08540
RobertaSellsPrinceton.com
60 Dogwood Lane, Skillman
NJ 08558 - 5 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, Exquisite mini Estate on 5 private acres surrounded by hundreds
of acres of preserved land. Inground
pool, 3 car garage. Montgomery
schools. $1,675,000
RobertaSellsPrinceton.com
Richard K. Rein
hen
the
words won’t come, when
another blank screen
beckons, when a character who
comes to life in your brain becomes
an awkward plot stopper on the
page, and when you know that all
your mental agony probably won’t
result in enough compensation to
cover your costs, let alone enable
you to quit your day job, what in
the world makes a writer stick to
the writing process?
The long, literary life of Ann
Waldron, who died July 2 at age 85,
might give us a clue or two. Waldron, born in Birmingham, Alabama, found a lot of her writing inspiration in the South. She graduated
with a degree in journalism at the
University of Alabama in 1945 and
promptly got a job at the Atlanta
Constitution, where she met her
husband, Martin (who later became a reporter for the New York
Times — he died in 1981).
After her husband’s death, Ann
Waldron soldiered on with her
writing, with credits that included
three biographies of southern writers and editors (Hodding Carter, also known as “Big Hod,” the father
of the man many remember as the
State Department spokesman suring the Iran hostage crisis, Caroline
Gordon, and Eudora Welty), as
90th anniversary
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[email protected]
well as six novels for young children, nonfiction books about art for
children, and reviews of children’s
books. Ann Waldron’s house on
Park Place in downtown Princeton,
Ann Waldron wrote
children’s books, nonfiction for young
adults, literary biographies, and murder
mysteries, and made it
all look easy.
two or three doors away from my
house, was a destination for scores
of children’s books that publishers
hoped would get a notice from
Waldron — she reviewed children’s books for the Philadelphia
Inquirer for 23 years. A lot of those
books eventually ended up as bedtime reading for my two kids.
At a “service of witness” to Waldron’s life at the Nassau Presbyterian Church I gained a little insight
into what kept Waldron engaged so
cheerfully in her craft. First off
Waldron genuinely liked people —
the raw material for any writer’s
word factory. Virginia Thomas, a
family friend since the Waldrons’
days in the south, talked about how
she and Ann exchanged letters
weekly — or more often — for
more than a half century.
Waldron was also enthusiastic.
Another longtime friend, Don Harrell, spoke of their frequent excursions to Broadway plays. They had
seen most everything from good to
bad. He remembered leaving with
Waldron after seeing “The
Starlight Express” and Waldron
declaring in one breath, “Was that
not the worst thing we have ever
seen?” and then, in the next breath,
“What’s next.”
While enthusiasm for a subject
might be necessary for a writer, it
was seldom sufficient. Unrelenting
hard work also factored in. In the
opening pages of her 1998 biography of Welty, the Pulitzer Prizewinning and bestselling author
from Jackson, Mississippi, Waldron quotes the author in a statement that lies like a gauntlet across
her path: “Your private life should
be kept private,” Welty said in
1972. “My own I don’t think would
particularly interest anybody, for
that matter. But I’d guard it; I feel
strongly about that. They’d have a
hard time trying to find something
about me.”
Waldron found out enough to
fill 340 pages of her book, “Eudora: A Writer’s Life.” But Waldron
certainly had a hard time gathering
all that information. Her book ends
with another 41 pages of notes and
acknowledgments. Welty never
cooperated with her biographer. At
the church service, someone noted
that the royalties from the book
might not have covered Waldron’s
costs. But, pointed out Justin Har-
North Brunswick Open House Sunday, 8/1, 1-4pm $249,900
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mon, a colleague from
Waldron’s “day job” at
Princeton
University,
“writing never paid
much. Ann wrote for the
satisfaction and she wrote because
she was endlessly curious.”
My neighbor dodged the bullet
of depression and alcoholism that
has plagued many practitioners of
our craft. In a much quoted 1989
Washington Post article, Waldron
reported on famous writers and
their liquid crutches. F. Scott
Fitzgerald,
Truman
Capote,
William Faulkner, Dorothy Parker,
John O’Hara, and many more writers were assessed from a liquor
bottle’s point of view. The prototype, Waldron wrote, was Ernest
Hemingway. Drawing on a biography by Kenneth Lynn, Waldron describes the scene:
“Hemingway had the same capacity for alcohol that his characters did, and in ‘The Sun Also Rises’ Jake Barnes and Brett Ashley
drank three martinis apiece before
lunch, which was accompanied by
five or six bottles of red wine.
“In 1939 Hemingway was ordered to cut down on his drinking.
He tried to hold himself to three
Scotches before dinner but he
couldn’t do it and, in 1940, he began breakfasting on tea and gin and
swigging absinthe, whiskey, vodka, and wine at various times during the day. He even let his boys
drink hard liquor when one of them
was only 10.
“His alcoholism brought on hypertension, kidney and liver diseases, edema of the ankles, high
blood urea, mild diabetes, mellitus
and possibly hemochromatosis, recurrent muscle cramps, chronic
sleeplessness, and sexual impotence. He shot himself to death at
age 62.”
When Waldron was in her 60s
she switched her writing focus
from children’s books to adult biographies. A decade later she made
what some might consider an even
greater transformation — from
nonfiction to her series of murder
mysteries set on the campus of
Princeton University. The heroine
of the series was a former journalist
teaching an undergraduate writing
course. As the New York Times
pointed out in its obituary: “The
nosey newspaperwoman was
something of a self-reflection.”
At the memorial service, Justin
Harmon recounted a visit with Ann
just a day or so before her death.
She was moving in and out of consciousness. But at one point she
turned to her good friend and
beamed, “I have just had a tremendous revelation.”
I never talked religion with my
former neighbor but at the service
Waldron was described as a good
and “critical” Christian. I doubt
anyone could imagine her sharing
a religious experience in a trivial
way. So I am sure people of faith
envisioned a revelation of a window into a new passageway, perhaps leading to a life after death.
My first thought was that maybe
she had just come up with the outline for a new series of books.
Either way, it was time to turn
the page in a remarkable story.
E
N
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E
Governors Pointe II. 2 story Townhouse
across from pool & tennis courts. 2010: new
gas hot water heater. 2008: carpets and
new ceramic tiles. New paint on interior
& exterior walls. All new Thermal windows.
Directions: From US1 to Commerce Blvd.
to Governor’s Point to 37 Clay Street.
www.37claystreet.com
Princeton Forrestal Village • 112 Village Blvd.
Princeton, NJ 08540-5760
Office: 609-951-8600 Ext. 144 • Cell: 609-509-0777
Each Office Independently Owned and Operated
CYRIL “CY” GAYDOS
REALTOR® ASSOCIATE
JULY 28, 2010
U.S. 1
Real Living®
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Choose Our Agents with Confidence.
Hopewell
$419,000
3BR, 2full, 2 half bath townhome with full
finished daylight bsmt incl. wet bar.
Fenced in patio area, deck off FR. 2-car
garage & fireplace.
Hopewell Twp
$500,000
The longest yard. A spacious custom built
ranch with flexible floor plan offering
4 bedrooms including 2 master suites or
in-law/home office. WOW!
Hopewell Twp
$419,000
Wellington Manor - 55+ Community.
Energy eff. Lincoln model on prem. lot
backs to wooded area. First flr mstr suite.
Across from pool/tennis/clubhse.
Princeton Office 609-921-2600
Pennington Office 609-737-9100
Kendall Park
$334,900
Updated 3 BR ranch on a tree-lined street.
Upgraded kitchen with maple cabinets,
double SS sink, Bruce hardwood flooring
in most rooms, updated baths.
Monroe
$699,000
See the difference between ho-hum and
wow! Beautiful, spacious 5 BR, 3 bath
home loaded with upgrades. Grand foyer,
fabulous sunroom w/ skylights.
Montgomery
$749,900
Beautiful 4BR, 2.5BA Churchill colonial
on cul-de-sac. Double sided fplc, fin bsmt,
hdwd throughout most of 1st fl., custom
deck & lush landscaping.
Montgomery Twp
$549,000
You will love this 3 BR 2 BA colonial
located on a cul-de-sac. The interior has
beautiful updated colors, hardwood floors
and updated kitchen.
South Brunswick Office 732-398-2600
South Brunswick Office 732-398-2600
Montgomery Twp-Rocky Hill $549,900
Stunning 2 story cedar sided post & beam
unique 3 BR home with many energy
eff. features on a 7 Acre lot. Upgraded kit.,
airy & bright huge solarium.
Plainsboro
$675,000
Great opportunity to live in one of the
larger 4 bedrooms, 3.5 bath models in
Walker Gordon. 2 story foyer w/custom
chandelier & ceramic tile floors.
Plainsboro
$415,000
Ready & waiting for lucky new family!
3BR, 2BA renovated home. New siding,
A/C, windows. Hdwd flrs, new baths,
new kitchen, wood burning stone fplc.
Princeton
$1,799,900
You've never seen new construction like
this before! Custom built 4 BR, 4.5 bath
colonial w/covered stone front entry &
blue stone steps.
Princeton Junction Office 609-750-2020
Princeton
$999,900
Rare opportunity to own one of only 4
free standing homes in Princeton's prestigious Enclave Governors Lane featuring
4 BR's, 3.5 bA. 4 level living.
Princeton
$849,900
GREAT INVESTMENT! Live in 1 unit & rent
out the other 2! This 3 family unit offers
lots of options-each unit with HW flrs,
renovated kit. & baths.
Princeton
$479,000
In town jem, newly improved! 3BR, 1.5BA
w/updated kit, stainless steel appliances,
new ceramic tile floor, hdwd flrs. throughout & freshly painted.
Princeton
$329,000
2BR, 1.5BA home with hdwd flrs, rear
porch & fenced yard. Freshly painted.
Close to Library, & Community Park pool,
YWCA & YMCA & Arts Council.
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Cranbury
$949,900
Truly gorgeous 5BR, 3.5BA home w/all
the bells & whistles any buyer would
want. Shows like a model. Library, parlor
& guest or au pair suite w/full BA.
#1 COMPA N Y IN MERCER COU N T Y IN BOT H U N ITS A N D
SA LES VOLU ME FOR 2009 .*
View thousands of homes at glorianilson.com.
Hamilton
609-890-0007
Monroe Twp.
609-395-6600
Princeton
609-921-2600
Princeton Jct.
609-750-2020
An Independently Owned and Operated Firm.
*Accordi ng to Trendgraphi x
Pennington
609-737-9100
South Brunswick
732-398-2600
59
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U.S. 1
JULY 28, 2010
Springpoint C
om
mu
n it
y En
Signature
Broadway Pops
brings you
rich
ment
Partner
ship
a WWII
Songbook
Concert
at the
Grounds for Sculpture
Seward Johnson, Unconditional Surrender ©2004, all rights reserved by The Sculpture Foundation, Inc.
Thursday, July 29th at 3:00pm
In celebration of J. Seward Johnson’s
“Unconditional Surrender” sculpture, the
Springpoint Foundation, in conjunction with
the Laurenti Family Charitable Trust and
Bloomberg LLP, present an evening of songs
written and performed during the historical
WWII era by Broadway’s Glenn Seven Allen and
Janine DiVita of Signature Broadway Pops, to
an audience at Grounds For Sculpture.
Join us
for this
free concert!
For more information
please contact the
Springpoint Foundation
Sponsored by:
at 609.720.7304.
*The Springpoint Community Enrichment Partnership provides lifelong access to art and cultural programs.

video - PrincetonInfo

Transcription

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