CT-208 APRIL  30   ‘13

 

Hi all and welcome to another exciting and thought provoking issue of this bi-weekly newsletter, The CORNERSTONE TRAVELER.  Also available at www.cornerstonetraveler.com.

 

mid-Hudson Valley news:  I read recently that the Black Bear  population is decreasing here in the mid-Hudson Valley.  Why?  The New York Forestry service in unsure.  They believe it may      be due to a shortage of acorn nuts.  A favorite diet for young  Black Bear cubs.  The Forestry service has noted that the  average weight of Black Bear cubs has dropped from between                50 – 60 pounds to 12 – 20 pounds.  Why this drop in weight?  Here again the Forestry service is not sure.  A drop in the  number of edible acorns?  Or it may be due to the fact that people are better at securing their garbage cans and even bird feeders. I do wonder how this drop in the Black Bear population will affect other animal species.  And in particular the coyote.  Will the coyote population increase because of the decrease in competition for food with the Black Bears?  I don’t know.  But I do know that in the last few years coyotes are becoming a more persistent pest to humans and our pet  dogs and cats.  What can be done?  I have no clue and neither does the forestry service.  Maybe we should just watch as natures balances herself with respect to the animal population.

How long will this take and what are the consequences?  Especially in regards to the coyote.  The Black Bear is essentially timid of humans.

my political commentary:

By now everyone knows of the tragedy at the Boston Marathon bombing that killed 4 and injured and maimed 200 more by two shit head brothers who incorrectly thought they were doing Allah’s will.

I am pissed off about this because my son, Justin, was only five minutes from being one of those killed or maimed.

What really bothers me is the continual drivel spewing from the mouths of the likes of Limbaugh, O’Reilly, Hannity etc.  They seem to want to blame all Muslims for this tragedy.  I personally liken the shitheads to the likes of the devout Christians of the KKK, Neo-Nazis, the Aryan Brotherhood of Texas (ABT) and other like minded militias.

O’Reilly and Hannity kept referring to the suspects mother when she cried Allah Akbar.  As if she was mouthing some Muslim terrorist rant, when in reality she is just saying “Allah (God) is great.”  Is there something wrong with saying that?  Does it have any terrorist connotations?  I’m sure Limbaugh, O’Reilly,  Hannity and other conservative blow hards think this is so, when in reality it is not.

I am personally more afraid of the pretend soldiers in the many private militias scattered throughout our country.

These pretend soldiers will fire their not so pretend assault rifles at pretend targets, not caring that the bullets will keep traveling until it hits something or someone.  Now that is frightening.  Muslim, KKK, Neo-Nazi, ABT doesn’t matter because a bullet fired by any will kill a person as easily and quickly as the bullet fired by the other terrorist group.

Just think about it.  Please!

sports:

The first round of the NBA Championship between the Knicks and the Celtics stands at  3-1.  The Knicks will be able to take this round of this playoff series with a win Wednesday at MSG.

Between the Nets and the Bulls is at 3 -2  With the Bulls on top.  The 6 th game is in Chicago.

I personally think the Knicks will go all the way to be the ultimate winners of the NBA championship.

Rangers are in the post season in the NHL playoffs with their first games against Washington.

The Yankees are  behind their hated rivals, the Red Sox, by 3 games in the AL East.  Their record is 15-10

The Mets are 4 games back in the NL East.  With a record of 10-13.

other:

As with all previous issues of this newsletter, everything written here id either copyright protected or copyright pending.

The history of P&G’s follows this newsletter.  This history is from the mid 1900’s tp almost the present

The short story I decided to include in this newsletter is called GYPSY MAGIC  I hope you like it.

Thank-you  – Rik McGuire

 

History of P&G’s continued to the present

From 1925 – 1945 a number of diverse businesses occupied the building.  These included Carols Clothing Store, Atkins Drug Store,  Schaffert Real Estate Office, Marie Shop and Dicks Bar and Grill among others.

In 1947 Dicks Bar and Grill was purchased by two Lake Mohonk employees, Pat Cafferty and George Jayne.  Legend has it that neither told their wives of their intention to purchase the business.  They immediately changed the Grills name to Pat and Georges.  Among it’s loyal customers it was simply P&G’s.

One of the best things to happen to P&G’s occurred in 1961.  An ex Dodger player named Stormer Nickerson became a bartender.  Stormy as he was affectionately known became something of a legend.  His heart, quiet good humor and generous spirit made P&G’s the one place that welcomed all from the harsher outside world into a refuge for college students, business people, local characters and even for a while, in the 1960’s, bikers.  According to one source.  “They weren’t as rowdy a crew as you might expect because although he was quiet, Stormy commanded and got respect.”  His professional baseball background made him a natural to pitch batting practice for the New Paltz College teams and he did so for a number of seasons.  One college fraternity considered P&G’s their private domain.  The scene of everything important, news, views, camaraderie and especially humor was always evident at P&G’s.

After the St. Helens volcano erupted and news reports discussed the possibility of ash fall out across the U.S., Stormy came to work to find the staff dressed in garbage bags and metal kitchen colanders on their heads.  Since no ash was reported on anyone, Stormy reasoned the

attire had been affective by making everyone laugh their ash off.

In June 1991, after 30 years, Stormy retired from P&G’s.  He died in June of 1994.  From his casual humor that lingers, to his Chile recipe that is still served and the kind memories often repeated by his many friends, Stormy is still here.

In 1969 Edwin Beck bought P&G’s.  His first weekend as owner was completely successful.  The following weekend, however, the place was deserted.  A disheartened Beck couldn’t understand what he had done to alienate everyone so quickly.  He was relieved to learn it was simply a matter of poor timing.  Everyone was away and wallowing in a farm in Bethel NY.  A music festival or something.

Ed Beck never spent time worrying.  He looked across Main Street and up Platekill Avenue, seeing thousands of thirsty college students who, for the most part remained on campus.  Taking a good supply of liquid refreshment, Beck went to the campus and gave the students (all legal in those days) a new place to call home.  He transformed P&G’s from a neighborhood bar into a local institution.

The face of Beck’s personality had much to do with the continued success of P&G’s, the place was fun.  One oft quoted story about Beck concerns a young P&G’s enthusiast who wanted to be just like Beck when he grew up.  It is reported that Beck in all humility replied.  “Well you can’t do both.”

The name Pat and Georges was officially changed to P&G’s in the 1980’s by Ed Beck and his son Mike.  In 1985, Mike bought out his fathers interest.  In 1994, he undertook extensive renovations, making the building exterior appear as it did in 1900, when it was the Casino.

GYPSY  MAGIC

Alan had been driving his “work” van for more than two days looking for work in upstate New York.  He was a finish carpenter and had been for over five years until the housing market went into the toilet and he found himself on the outside looking in.  He had worked in the Hamptons and when he lost his job, he had to move to cheaper residences because of the high cost of living on Long Island.  He thought he could live cheaper in upstate New York and maybe even find a job.  If not in the construction industry then maybe on an apple farm, picking apples or doing anything to earn money.  He knew his unemployment would end in a few weeks so he was desperate to find work somewhere, anywhere.

He pulled off the Thruway near the Catskills, where he knew there were a number of apple farms along with dairy farms.

He went to the first apple farm on the list he received through the internet and went directly to the barn and asked for the owner or head guy.

He was shown to an office in one corner of the barn and met the man who hired all the apple pickers.

The man behind the desk stood up, stretched out his hand and said.  “My name is Burt Olsen.  You are looking for work?  Correct?”

Alan nodded.  “Yes sir.  I am.  Can you use me?”

Burt Olsen smiled.  “What experience do you have in the orchards?”

Alan still stood and shook his head.  “Very little.  I am a finish carpenter from Long Island.  I lost my job because of the housing down turn and I thought I could work on the farms in upstate New York to keep me clothed, sheltered and fed.”

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Burt shook his head.  “I don’t have much lodging for my migrant workers so you will

have to take whatever I have.  Are you willing to accept this arrangement?”

Alan could only smile.  “I have a van that I can live in and have enough in terms of cooking apparatus to let me live relatively comfortable.”

Burt beamed.  “Great.  I have a group of migrant gypsies that are encamped by a house.  They only use the house for the toilet and showers and for smaller children.  Are you willing to set up near them?”

Alan smiled.  “No problem.  As long as they as they don’t use their magic and turn me into a toad.”

Burt shook his head.  “Of course not.”  He said as he pushed some forms across his desk to Alan.  “Just fill these out and you can start tomorrow morning at 6:00.”

Alan filled out the forms for his employment and asked.  “Where should I park my van?”

Burt pointed to the road.  “Leave the parking lot, go right and less than a half mile on your left is a house where you will see a caravan of cars and trailers.  Park your van there and you’re all set for the duration.”

Alan found the house and the gypsy caravan, parked his van and walked around surveying the surroundings.  He saw and waved to several men from the caravan until one young beautiful woman came up to him and offered her had.

“Hello.”  She said and smiled.  “My grand mere foretold a person like you would arrive at our encampment.”

“Did she now?”  Alan asked.  “And how did she know I would arrive?”

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The young woman only smiled.  “My grand mere can see the future because she has

special gifts.”

Alan smiled.  “Burt Olsen, who hired me and told me to park here said you are gypsies.  Is that correct?”  He asked.

The young woman only smiled and nodded.  “My name is Tabita.”  She said.  “And you are?”

“Alan.  Alan Scarlet.”

“Welcome Alan.  Let me show you around and you can meet the men you will be working with.”  Tabita said taking his hand.  Alan naturally had to follow.

Tabita introduced Alan to all the men in the caravan and finally to her father, Zeb.  “Father.”  She said.  “This is the man grand mere said would arrive at our encampment.”

Zeb looked suspiciously at Alan after he shook his hand.

“How do you do sir?”  Alan asked.

“I’m still waiting.”  Zeb said gruffly.

“I’m not sure what you mean sir?”  Alan said sheepishly.

Zeb smiled gruffly.  “Tabita does.”

Tabita said. “Come Alan and I will introduce you to my grand mere.”  She took him by the hand and led him to a tent that was in the center of the gypsy encampment.

“Grand mere?  It is I, Tabita.  Can we come in?”

Alan heard a gurgle of a yes and Tabita led him through the tent flap.

Sitting on several rolled up rugs was an old woman who Alan estimated was at least

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ninety years old.

“Grand mere, this is Alan.  Alan this is my grand mere, Rosa.”  Tabita said.

“How do you do ma’am?”  Alan said.

Grand mere, Rosa patted the rolled up rugs next to her indicating that she wanted Alan and Tabita so sit down.

Alan went immediately to Tabita, held her hands so she could sit down comfortably on the rugs. He went to the other side of Grand mere, Rosa and sat down heavily on the rugs.

“May I see your hands, Alan.”  Grand mere, Rosa asked.

Alan turned to face her.  “Of course.”  He said, holding his hands out to her, palms up.

“They are very rough and calloused.”  Grand mere, Rosa said.

“Yes ma’am.  Up until several weeks ago I was a finish carpenter.  Then the housing market went belly up and I was out of work.”  He explained.

Grand mere, Rosa traced her finger on his palm.  She then said.  “You have seen a lot of life and a lot of death.”

Alan could only nod.  “Yes, I’ve seen a lot of life and death.  I was in the military for six years and I saw many comrades die needlessly in an unnecessary war in Iraq.

Grand mere smiled.  “Yes.  I know, I also know you will marry my granddaughter, Tabita.”

Alan sat back.  “Whoa.  Wait a minute we only just met.”

Grand mere, Rosa only smiled again.  “Trust me.  I saw it in your palm and I am right all of the time.

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“How?”  Alan had to ask and Tabita giggled.

“It was a gift passed on down to me through both your God and my God.”  Grand mere said with confidence.

“You saw all this by the lines n the palms of my hands?” Alan asked

Grand mere, Rosa nodded.  “That and more.”

“More?  How much more?”

Grand mere only smiled.

“You and Tabita will have three children and one will be like me a teller of the futures.  Her name is not important, but she will live through your marriage.  Trust me.”

Alan was perplexed.  Sure, he thought, he was attracted to Tabita because she was a beautiful woman.  But to be married to her was completely out of his mind.  He didn’t know how to respond.

Grand mere responded for him.  “You will be happy together for years to come.  But you will see poverty and loss because of mans greed.”

“I have been arguing about that since I came back from Iraq.”  Alan almost stormed.

Grand mere, Rosa nodded and smiled.  “Yes.  That is the reason why you have been chosen to join our caravan.  And it is no choice of yours.”

The next morning, he went to the orchard by 6:00 as instructed by Mr. Olsen.  He learned that the men from the gypsy caravan had been in the orchard since four that morning.

He learned from Zebidiah, a gypsy man who would become his best friend next to Tabita

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in the caravan, that everyone was paid by the bushel and not the hours.  Therefore all the men rose early to pick that many more bushels for the day.

Zebidiah was also essentially the foreman of the work crew.  He assigned each man a section of the orchard with about fifty trees per section.  He gave Alan a bunch of green and white ribbons to tie on the surrounding trees of his section to identify the trees within as his area to pick.

It was relatively easy to pick apples from the trees because they were all dwarf trees and required little climbing of ladders to pick apples from the upper branches, He had to use a ladder more often than most of the others in the group because he only stood 5’6″.  But  was able to use the ladder with relative ease.  After the over the shoulder drop bag was filled with apples, he had to dump them in a 4′ x 4′ crate carefully so as not to bruise the apples.  Each crate was marked with  individual identifying ribbons.  That was how Mr. Olsen calculated the number of bushels picked by the apple pickers.  Each crate held about fifty or more bushels.  Actually Alan later learned  that Mr. Olsen calculated the number of bushels in the crate by weighing each and from the weight he figured the number of bushels picked.  He would also inspect the apples to see if they had been haphazardly dumped the apples to save time.  Alan knew Mr. Olsen would have been hard pressed to find few if any bruises from his crate.  He was that careful when he released the apples into the crate.

By the end of the day he had filled two crates with apples and that amounted to just over fifty dollars.  Not exactly the pay he had earned as a finish carpenter, but it was enough that he could buy food and even go into the small town and have a few drinks.

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In fact that night after Mr. Olsen paid everyone in cash what was owed to each of the pickers, Zebidiah, Tabita and Alan went into the town to have a few drinks and talk.  Alan was

curious about gypsy life because according to grand mere, Rosa he was to become a member of the clan.

It felt good to be financially secure after all those weeks of unemployment which didn’t pay squat for a skilled craftsman.

They got to the local watering hole, sat down at a table and ordered beers.

Alan was talking to Zebidiah, asking how the gypsy men picked apples so early in the morning when it was dark.

He explained that they each wore a head band around their heads that had a small light mounted on the front.  In this way, Zebidiah explained they could see where they were walking and the apples to pick.

Alan was intrigued and asked where he could purchase this device.  Zebidiah smiled.  “We have  a few extra just in case one of us forgets to charge their batteries.  So I could let you borrow one.”

“I’ll pay for it.”  Alan insisted.

Tabita smiled and took his hand to stroke it.  And just then this holy roller, born again stood before the table cursing the gypsies.  “You people are heathens and will never be accepted into the kingdom of God.”

Zebidiah and Tabita remained silent and only smiled at the man which infuriated him even more.

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“You people are condemned to hell for all eternity.”  He screamed at them.

Alan had to stand up and face the holy roller asshole.  “Who are you to condemn us to

hell?”  He had to ask.  “I thought that only God can do this and unless I am incorrect, you are not on a talking basis with God.  So how can you preach the wisdom of God?”  Alan had him stumped and Alan knew he had no response to what had just been said.  He only looked from Alan to Tabita and Zebidiah then stormed out of the bar cursing them and everyone there.  They wouldn’t be surprised if he cursed God as well because He allowed people like them to exist.

Later that night, Alan and Tabita walked hand in hand among the apple trees telling each other their personal history’s.  Alan learned that Tabita’s mother had died when she was only nine years of age.  She was raised by her father who was very protective of her, maybe overly so.

Alan explained how he enlisted into the army and served two tours in Iraq, fifteen months each.  He told her he was essentially a heavy equipment operator, thinking the experience would land him a good paying job operating heavy equipment or tractor trailers.  But before he found a job operating heavy equipment he was hired to help with a job of finish carpentry in new housing.  He found that he enjoyed finish carpentry a lot and thought that he had found his niche in life.

Then the housing market went into the crapper and he was, no pun intended, shit out of luck.

Tabita giggled after Alan finished telling his life history.  “Don’t be offended.”  She said.  “But I’m glad you lost your job on Long Island or I would have never met you.”  She said as she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her.

They came to an apple tree and stood beside it looking at the stars.  After a few minutes,

Alan turned Tabita around so that she was facing him.  He put both hands on her shoulders,

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pulled her to him and kissed her hard on the lips.

When they finished, she gasped.  “Well it’s about time!”

Alan could only nod.  “I’ve wanted to since we first met, but I didn’t want to be too forward.”

TAbita giggled.  “Come.  It is time we get back.  My father will start to fret about my prolonged absence with you.”

Alan nodded.  I imagine he is pissed off at me or at least very angry that we have been away for so long and alone.”

“Don’t worry about my father.”  Tabita said.

Alan shook his head.  “I don’t know.  He didn’t seem to be too pleased to meet me yesterday.”

Tabita giggled again.  “Don’t worry about my father. He is just overly protective of his only daughter.  And besides he is the head of our gypsy clan and protective of all in the clan.”

“Does your father think me as a member of the clan?”  Alan asked.

“Not yet.  You have to earn your way into the clan or be born into it.”

“How do I earn my way into the clan?”

“It will come when it comes.  That is the way of the gypsies.”  Tabita explained

“I’ll try my best.”  Alan promised.

“I know you will.”  Tabita said.  Little did either of them know that Alan would earn his way into the clan later that night.  And his actions would endear him to Tabita’s father.

Alan walked Tabita to the trailer that she shared with her father and Zeb was waiting

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outside sitting in a chair and glared angrily at Alan.

Alan gave Tabita a light peck on the cheek and waved goodbye to both Zeb and Tabita as he headed back to his van.  He climbed into his van, stripped off his clothes and fell into the cot where he would sleep the night or so he thought.

 

At two that morning, Tabita decided she needed to use the toilet in the house.  She slipped on a robe went to the house to use the toilet and emerged four minutes later.  As she walked down the steps of the front porch, a hand reached around and clamped against her mouth so she couldn’t scream or make a sound.  Another pair of hands grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to the ground.  Two men were holding her down on the ground.  One had her arms and another had her legs pinned down.

Alan woke to an imagined voice or so he thought.

Your love is being attacked by three evil men near the house.  The voice whispered.

Alan immediately threw on jeans with a t-shirt and jumped out of his van.  He trotted silently to the house when he saw Tabita being held on the ground by two men, one of whom had her legs spread.  Her robe had been ripped open, exposing her naked body.  There was a third man standing between her legs with his trousers and underwear at his ankles.  It was evident what his plans were with his erect penis.

Walking toward the rape, Alan found a small wooden bat, that the children in the caravan used to play ball and he grabbed it.  He came up from behind the man holding

Tabita’s legs and swung the bat at the back of the mans head.  The man crumpled to the ground

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unconscious.

The man with his clothing at his ankles was about to kneel to rape Tabita, but before he could do so, Alan brought the bat up hard between the mans legs, crushing the mans loose grapes and deflating any excitement the man had with the anticipated rape.  His hands went down to his damaged and crushed genitalia then walked hunched over to the porch to sit down and glare at Alan.

The man holding Tabita’s arms looked up to Alan, stunned, not knowing what he should do and Alan could only smile.  “Let her go or I will take a major league swing at your head and hit it into the next county.”  He said as he waved the bat up and down.

The man looked at Alan then to his buddies, one who was laying on the ground unconscious and the other sitting bared assed on the steps of the porch, gingerly rubbing his testicles.  He did the only thing thinkable and released Tabita.

Tabita rose from the ground, covered herself with her robe, called her father, Zebidiah and the other clan members.  All of them stormed out of their tents and trailers.

Zeb immediately stared at Alan with an accusing glare.  Tabita came between them, faced her father and said.  “Alan saved me from being rapped by those evil men.”

“Did you do that, young man?”  Zeb asked.

Alan could only smile and point.  “Look at the man lying unconscious over there and to the man holding his privates on the porch and to the man cowering under the tree and you will see my accomplishments.”

Zeb laughed, grabbed Alan by the shoulders and bellowed.  “You are now a member of

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the clan if you are willing.”

“Of course!”  Alan replied with glee then happiness when he saw Tabita smile.  “But what should we do with these assholes?”  Alan asked.  “Shouldn’t we call the police?”

Zeb shook his head.  “No.  We will let them go.  The police won’t do anything because we are Gypsies.  It is better that they go home and nurse their wounds.  Especially that one.”  Zeb said, pointing to the holy roller still massaging his crushed grapes.  “I have a feeling he is going to be hurting for a long time.  A very long time.”

Zeb ordered the men to leave their encampment immediately and they all left holding their injured bodies.

After they left, Tabita came up to Alan and said.  “You are now a member of our clan.  Are you satisfied?”

Alan turned to her and kissed her hard on the lips, not caring if her father saw, then said.  “Extremely happy.”  He brimmed.

Later that year after the clan traveled to the south and to the west for more farming opportunities, Alan and Tabita were wed in grandeur.  Typical of a gypsy wedding.  And they did see poverty and greed.  But Tabita gave birth to three children, two boys and one girl who became a seer of the future, as predicted by grand mere, Rosa

9:51 p.m.

10/08/08

@P&G’s