One More Night In Gotham

Although our New York trip was six weeks ago, much of it has become jumbled in my memory, like what happened and when it happened. Right now, I am struggling to remember what we did for part of our final day there.

Read my previous post HERE. It will lead you to more.

I know that there were pockets when Wes and I were left to ourselves to explore while Taylor worked. I know that Wes made at least one more visit to Harbor Fitness while I slept in.

It could well be that the birthday cake for the twins from Mary happened on the last day, but I already wrote that it happened on another day. If it’s already on the internet like that, then it must be true.

I remember later having coffee and a pastry with Wes and heading into an organic/specialty grocery store to poke around. We think it was somewhere in Bed-Stuy or thereabouts.

I also remember a bunch of preteens sizing us up on the subway and trying to encircle us – acting like they were just chatting with each other as they moved closer. Wes and I stayed vigilant – eyes on each other’s pockets as we stood near one of the exits until they got off the train. Pickpockets in training, perhaps. You can call me paranoid, but Wes felt the same way. Something was up.

On this final night, we were looking forward to a meal at Gyu-Kaku Japanese BBQ in the East Village.

But we got around in the daytime also. I remember browsing at another bookshop with my twins and (maybe on the same day) ducking into Los Tacos No. 1 in the Times Square area.

Earlier, Wes asked Taylor about the Whole Foods bag he had left with her at Hartley’s the night before. She had no idea what happened to it.

Gyu-Kaku is a sprawling restaurant with personal grills at every table – and an endless array of meats for its patrons to cook – along with soups, salads and a variety of sides.

Seán was waiting for us when we got there, and it was good to see him again. The four of us were led to our table, and the feast ensued. We soon got the hang of the grill, and servers came by randomly to check the heat setting for us.

My hearing plays tricks of me in places like this and seems to go to the background noise instead of the people who are actually talking to me, but I managed. Wes and I sat across from Taylor and Seán, and it was interesting to see them interact. It was like they knew each other for years.  

I am particularly pleased with what I think is funniest photo of the trip. I don’t know what Wes said to Taylor, but her expression was priceless, like, “are you fucking kidding me…”

After Gyu-Kaku, Taylor and Seán felt like having a few more beers. We wound up at McSorley’s Old Ale House. The place was established in 1854 and it is said that Abraham Lincoln drank there once. The place oozed history and a bit of controversy. It wasn’t until 1986 that the tavern added a women’s restroom.

The men’s room had a bank of urinals that looked like upended porcelain sarcophagi without the lids, probably not as old as the bar itself, but ancient nonetheless.

Don’t expect hard liquor at McSorley’s. The place serves light and dark ale only, and you order it in pairs. I noticed a food selection on a chalkboard also. The place is about as no-nonsense as you can get.

We made our way to the subway, but Wes ducked into yet another pizza joint for a slice – proving his insatiability on this trip. We parted ways with Seán and headed toward South Slope. Even though Taylor was with us, I was proud of how easily Wes and I managed to navigate the MTA. While not pros by any means, we could get around.

Walking up Taylor’s street, the couch was still outside her apartment building, but most of the cushions had been scavenged. I noticed something odd, though. It was a brown paper bag. As we got closer, I could see the green logo: Whole Foods.

No way.

Don’t ask me how or why. It was Wesley’s food, now festering.

It was full circle – a hilarious bookend to our trip.

We hung out with Taylor and Mary. I was glad Mary was there and enjoyed our conversation. We were now homies. Mary was also kind enough to loan me her carry-on approved backpack, which was much more manageable than the gym bag I brought with me.

Early the next morning, Wes and I made our way onto the subway, took two trains to Penn Station, grabbed a New Jersey Transit train to the AirTrain and caught our flight home to Myrtle Beach.

Enjoy these posts? I’d love it if you would subscribe.

An Irish Pub Grows in Brooklyn

I might be beating this New York trip to death, but there are a few more memories I want to set down before they slip away…

For the first three installments, go HERE, HERE and HERE.

After Wes and I finished our pie at John’s of Bleeker Street, we headed off via subway toward Bed-Stuy and Hartley’s Pub for “trad night” – a regular session of traditional Irish Music where Taylor slings Jameson.

Hartley’s (From Facebook)

Hartley’s is a welcoming place. It doesn’t put on airs, and the vibe is chill. It’s a small place. The pub’s website cites it as “Brooklyn’s homiest Irish bar,” and it sits on the border of Bed-Stuy and Clinton Hill.

Taylor told us that a table was reserved for her group, and that’s a good thing because the place soon filled up to elbow-to-elbow status – with the musicians taking up residence at a regular table just across from us.

But Wes and I were early, and hung around outside for a bit until Taylor texted us and said to go in and claim the table. She and boyfriend Seán were en route. The place started to fill up. Before it did, we met bartender Milo, who pointed out the waiting high-top after I shook his hand about 2.5 million times. Sometimes I astonish myself.

Soon, Taylor came in with Seán, and she introduced us. I found him to be calm and kind – and conversation came easily. He is also a tall and a good-looking fellow. Did I mention he was Irish? Did I have to? I enjoyed meeting and speaking with him, and Wes did too – the pair talking about sports and fitness and, for both of them, an early decision to reinvent themselves through physical training.

How many times can you use the word “did” in a paragraph? See above.

Of course, we playfully roasted Taylor, but if you know her, that could be a slippery slope. I am happy to report that we survived.

I met a regular, Ms. Ronnie, and we ducked outside for a vape (me) and a smoke (her). She was born and raised in the area and ascended the municipal ranks from clerk to civil engineer. What a fantastic story.

We also met LG, the chef. About that time, Taylor took Wesley’s beloved Whole Food bag and brought it downstairs to store in the kitchen.

Later, Seán and I would pop out for a vape. Our conversation was relaxed and easy – and I was glad to get to know him.

It’s funny that as soon as Taylor was sure I was coming to New York with Wes, she sent me a selfie with Seán and said something like, “Unfortch, you’re going to meet this guy.”

Maybe it’s because I’m her father and she was about to introduce me to her boyfriend, but I found her choice of words hilarious. I get it. I took it to mean that there was no stopping a runaway freight train.  But I asked her why she would say “unfortch,” and she told me Seán asked her the same thing. At any rate, I am glad he knows about it.

When I met him, I told him that “Unfortch” should be his nickname.

Taylor with Seán aka “Unfortch”

There was soon no room at the table – and some of their friends crowded around. Some of them I knew – Deniese, Kaja, Jacob, Mary – and it was great to meet the others. I am heartened that my daughter has a wonderful group of people in her life.

Wes doesn’t drink and has never had an interest in it. Maybe that’s because of my alcoholic incidents over the course of his young life. Taylor is another story, although I have rarely seen her completely shitfaced – rarely being the key word. Because I have been sober for nearly ten years, I never had the chance to drink with her. I mentioned that to her once. Believe me, she’s perfectly OK with that.

But the drinkers were well on their way that night. Come on now, it’s an Irish pub after all.

The music was awesome. No singing. This wasn’t “Dirty Old Town” or “Danny Boy.” It was just as it was supposed to be: Traditional. Instrumental. I seem to remember an Irish whistle, acoustic guitar, a fiddle and either a mandolin, dulcimer or bouzouki. I’m probably missing something. At any rate, the music component contributed to a great vibe – but soon the place was so crowded that the chatter threatened to drown out the musicians, who were strictly acoustic.

Wes and I decided it was time for us to head to Taylor’s apartment. We asked about the Whole Foods bag, and Taylor told us she would bring it home with her later. She also ordered a Lyft for us.

When Wes and I got there, we decided we were still a bit hungry – so we took a short walk in the neighborhood, around the corner to Brothers Pizza for a couple of slices. It’s a small place, the pizza was good and the guys who were working that night were friendly. It’s strange, but we seemed to be getting in more together time than we normally do at home in Myrtle Beach.

We still had one more day to explore.

Enjoy these posts? I’d love it if you would subscribe.

This Slope, That Slope

Tromping around New York with Wes and Taylor was just what I needed for a reset. My twins were about to turn 30, and my son and I got to spend a few days up there thanks to my daughter-in-law, my daughter and, as I came to find out, my daughter’s boyfriend, Seán.

We were to meet Seán later when we were to return to Hartley’s for “trad night” – a couple of hours of traditional Irish music where Taylor tends bar.

That morning, Wes was up with the chickens to drop in at a local gym called Harbor Fitness in Park Slope, according to my daughter the fancier neighbor of South Slope, where she lives. By the time I woke up, he was back – getting ready to move a couch out of the apartment with Mary, Taylor’s friend and roommate.

Typically, a piece of furniture doesn’t last long once it is put out on the street. It’s an interesting phenomenon. By the time we headed off to check out Strand Book Store and the Union Square Holiday Market, some of the cushions had already disappeared.

But that couch was to play a role in our lives again later. Come to think of it, maybe the couch was moved out the day before. Dammit. I don’t remember.

But that day, we also celebrated the twins’ 30th birthdays early with a cake and candles thanks to Mary. This is a moment I will always cherish. Also grateful that Mary snapped some photos.

I could have stayed the day at Strand Book Shop, exploring its boasted “18 Miles of Books,” but we stayed a good while. This visit, I passed on perusing the stacks out on the sidewalk, but I regret that now. I could have stocked up and asked Taylor to ship the used books to me later.

Catherine and Taylor at Strand Book Store

The holiday market was wonderful – a sprawling bazaar with artisans, food vendors, retailers, music and much more – a feast for the senses, for sure, with the hum of bustling humanity. Taylor bought me a red winter beanie with a patch that reads, “Don’t Be A Dick.” I am proud of that hat, and love wearing it. I am sorry more people don’t actually read what it says, though. I might effect meaningful change if they did. Sometimes I make sure folks can see it, especially my friends.

I was happy that we got to see Catherine – a longtime friend of Taylor’s going back to the sixth or seventh grade – and a young lady who also struck out for NYC after college. She’s family. I always wax nostalgic when I see her and I am proud of both of them. Catherine influenced me and Wes to try the awesome empanadas from a vendor at the holiday market.

Taylor and Catherine

Wes ducked across the street to grab some takeout from the hot bar at Whole Foods. I was glad – because, here I go again, there was a restroom. Armed with what he wanted, we parted ways with Catherine – and Taylor accompanied us around as we made our way toward Greenwich Village – walking through Washington Square Park on the way.

@rograt1

Just following my twins on a recent trip to #NYC #twins #twinlife #twinbirthday

♬ original sound – Roger Yale

I love seeing the twins – my babies – interacting as adults. If I live long enough, I’ll probably be the same when they are 50.

Wes was intent on trying as much New York pizza as he could – I call it “Pizzaquest” – and we were on our way to John’s of Bleeker Street. Taylor planned on leaving us there so she could scope out a bar called Peg’s Cavalier in Queens, which was to be the site of her 30^th birthday soiree. Unfortunately, Wes and I would already be back in Myrtle Beach by their actual birthday.

Soon, it appeared before us as we walked. On the left corner of their burgundy awning were the words, “No Slices.”

Whoops.

Thank Goodness those empanadas were small.

After some debate, Wes and I decided to go in for a whole pie and Taylor took off. We “split” the pizza, meaning Wes had four slices and I had two – more than enough for me. Wes later told me that it was the best pizza he ever had.

 All the while, the Whole Foods bag was with him.

More to come.

Enjoy these blog posts? I’d love it if you would subscribe.

On the Town: A Whirlwind Trip

In three days, we packed as much adventure into our visit to New York as we could.

Only just a month later, I am having trouble piecing it all together. Memory is a funny thing.

Wes and I arrived in New York just days after KISS played their two final shows at Madison Square Garden, and if you looked, you could see evidence of the band’s “NYC Takeover.”

Taylor handed us a couple of MTA passes with KISS emblazoned on them in full makeup.

I wish I had been able to see the Empire State Building’s tribute to them, the structure alive with video and lights – paying tribute to the “local boys made good” in larger-than-life relief, a fitting farewell indeed.

But we already said our goodbyes to KISS in Raleigh a while back. You can read about that experience HERE.

After we got to Taylor’s apartment in South Slope, we regrouped. Thankfully, Taylor and her friend and roommate Mary let us stay with them.

Mary wasn’t home, but we caught up with her later.

I was happy to finally have unfettered access to a restroom.

We headed out and took the subway to Bed-Stuy with Taylor, en route to her job at an Irish pub called Hartley’s. I like to say she is slinging Jameson now, and the job is a logical fit for her because she was first a regular there. One of her concoctions actually made it onto the menu – she originally called it a “Guinn and Tonic” but it’s on the menu as a Guinness and Tonic.

When we walked into the little place, folks greeted her like on ”Cheers.”  After meeting the manager, Aidan, and chitchatting with one of the regulars (who had some very kind things to say about Taylor), we took off in pursuit of pizza.

This was one of the first adventures as a duo with Wes on the subway system. Taylor gave us some pointers, and I was impressed by the sheer detail of Google Maps when it came to navigating public transit in New York.

The first place on Wesley’s pizza quest was Prince Street Pizza in SoHo. We had both been there before, but this time we knew the place was KISS-centric.

We had seen photos of Gene Simmons there with his son, Nick. And there were cutouts of the band at the front of the place. For folks ordering whole pies, the boxes displayed KISS on them also.

We enjoyed the thick, square slices outside. Thick? Square? What? This is New York. I told Wes that the challenge was to eat them before they got cold, because it was something like forty degrees then. There is a counter against the wall inside the narrow place, but it’s usually elbow to elbow.

Wes and I walked around for a bit, and again I was forecasting about when I would need to find a restroom. We ducked into a pastry shop, but couldn’t find a restroom there – but it wasn’t urgent. Wes ordered a pastry and we continued on, deciding to head back to Taylor’s place for the night.

Taylor and Mary live in a cute apartment in an old building with vertical, floor-to-ceiling pipes in every room. I didn’t realize what they were until I got close to one of them. It was old-school boiler heat. I’m 60, and I had never encountered that before. When they heart up, it sounds like somebody is hammering a piece of sheet metal. In fact, I thought somebody was working outside the building when I first heard it.

Reminds me of “I Love Lucy” episodes where Fred Mertz had to go downstairs to check on the furnace.

Mary was home when we got there. Buzzed us in a’la “Seinfeld” – and we had the chance to catch up with her before turning in.

Enjoy these blog posts? I’d love it if you would subscribe.

Holding it In

I just got back from what you would call a couple of whirlwind trips. One by air, the other by car. In rapid succession, I visited Brooklyn and New York City and then the mountains of Southwest Virginia.

I knew that my son was heading up to New York so that he could be with his sister/my daughter ahead of their 30th birthday. As soon as I found out about that, I knew I wanted to go too. Three decades in, and the bond among us remains strong, thank God.

Imagine my surprise when I got a group text from daughter Taylor and daughter-in-law Leigh that I was going with Wes. They gifted me a flight to and from New York. Wes was on the thread too, and he said, “You’re in, Jonna” – the words Malcolm Young used to welcome Brian Johnson into AC/DC.

This was to be my Christmas present from Leigh and Taylor (more in later posts). It was one way up on Delta and one way back on Spirit – on the same flights as Wes. The fact that we wound up sitting together on both flights was a bonus, with no add-on fees or hassles.

The last time Wes and I flew together was to Miami was in 2013 to see the University of Miami beat the Florida Gators (thanks Frank) – so I was excited to travel with my son once again.

And thank you, Brenda for getting us to the airport very early. Myrtle Beach is a breeze as far as airports go, but it has come a long way in the years since my mother called it a “jerkwater airport.” But still, Wes didn’t want to mess around. I will say he might be a bit more “reasonable” than his sister about getting there early, but apparently not by much.

We flew into LaGuardia. I had only done this once before, but the flight was uneventful, pleasant and quick – I think with just over an hour in the air. And as we headed down an escalator, there was Taylor, holding up two signs like a limo driver – BRUDDER and DAD.

Taylor is very good at these cute and funny moments. (Don’t get me started about Leigh’s hilarious sign for Taylor when she arrived in Myrtle Beach once. “Welcome Home From Prison, Taylor…”)

I was relieved to see Taylor. Otherwise, Wes and I would have to navigate the MTA system, which included a bus and a train from Queens to Brooklyn. In retrospect, the process was simple, but having our own guide was a definite plus.

On the bus to the eventual subway stop, I had to pee – and I indicated to Wes and Taylor that I was reaching critical mass. We continued to the subway and got on the appropriate train, When the twins realized that it was becoming painful for me, we got off the train in the middle of who-the-fuck knows – somewhere between Queens and Brooklyn. It was raining and cold, but after some slogging, we found a small bakery with a tiny bathroom available for customers.

It was then that I realized that I would face a particular challenge for the remainder of the trip. Wherever you go in and around The City, bathrooms are scarce. And with my propensity to relieve my bladder frequently, this would prove to become an issue, with me on high alert for options.

Bladder aside, this trip was chock full of memory-making.

Much more to come.

Enjoy these posts? I’d love it if you would subscribe.

Thankful Indeed

Here’s a little something about Thanksgiving from my daily writing discipline. I say “daily” and “discipline,” but a couple of writing assignments recently supplanted it.

I had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Low-key, with excellent food from Brenda – traditional fare. Her nephew Christian came early to help her while the Macy’s parade was on TV. I woke up a bit later and was ready to help with my usual cleanup duties in the kitchen – and I also tidied and vacuumed.

Wes, Leigh and Anderson showed up before six, which was to be our start time. There was a knock at the door – and when I opened it, Leigh had put Anderson down to examine the little lit tree Brenda set up outside. She gave him a plastic Christmas ornament to hold for a moment, but as soon as he wanted to taste it, she gently took it back, picked him up and handed him to me.

That was all I needed. I held him and carried him around for a bit – and I was to hold him a lot during the evening. I even had the honor of feeding him from a plate of Brenda’s awesome food, making sure everything was bite-sized for him. He ate like a champ – and it was the most rewarding experience of the evening.

Xavier and Xavion showed up not long after the Yales did. Xavion is in the eighth grade now. He’s tall and quiet. A good kid, and someone I have known since he was a baby. Time flies.

Xavier and Wes have been the best of friends since middle school. He is a fantastic father.

But Anderson was the star of the show that night. He’s such a happy little guy.

For a little while during and after I fed him, we were at our little dinner table with the guys – Wes, Christian and Xavier (Xavion was quietly on his phone at the other side of the room and Leigh and Brenda chatted on the couch). It seemed like Anderson was soaking in all of the banter – and every now and then he’d say something. It doesn’t matter that we couldn’t understand his language. He knew what he was talking about, and was like he wanted to contribute to the conversation.

He says “hi,” though – sometimes with a little wave – and that’s the cutest “hi” I ever heard.

After everybody left, Brenda and I did some touch-ups in the kitchen. She put the remainder of the feast away while I washed the remaining dishes. Thank God for paper plates, though.

I put away Anderson’s playmat and toys, and as I did, I felt his energy in the things he played with. I get that same feeling when I go to his house. His things. His vibe.

Enjoy these blog posts? I’d love it if you would subscribe.

‘Twas the Season

Photo by Leigh Schwartz aka Mommy

Brenda outdid herself this Halloween.

Brenda outdoes herself every Halloween.

I know she would like her Halloween décor to stay up all year. The witches’ hats dangling from the ceiling, the slim Halloween tree (well, it’s a Christmas tree, but she uses it for Halloween – all done up with orange and black garland and dangling jack-o-lanterns), the lights inside and out, the plaque beside the front door advertising her “Dead and Breakfast” and much, much more.

It’s a lifestyle for her. As for me, an introvert pretending to be an extrovert, I follow Brenda’s lead and jump on her bandwagon. This year, I reprised my previous role as Severus Snape of Harry Potter fame when we handed out candy at work. She went as a hippie. No big surprise, since she is a hippie at heart.

Brenda gets nervous if Halloween decorations aren’t up by September first. She was particularly antsy this year because September blew by and she finally had everything up and out by the beginning of October.

We hit up the usual Haunted Trail, handed out candy from Tinder Box Myrtle Beach, the cigar shop where we work. Kids came out of the woodwork at Broadway at the Beach from 4:30-6:30. (No, we didn’t hand out puros to the youngsters when the candy ran out.)

Because we do this every year, Brenda knew that there would be stragglers, and she saved a half-bag of bite-size candy bars for the random latecomers – especially the tiny ones all dressed up like ballerinas, princesses, vampires and monsters whose parents either didn’t know or didn’t care about the trick-or-treating hours.

WELCOME, GREAT PUMPKIN

But it was The Great Pumpkin who stole our hearts.

Earlier in October, my daughter-in-law entrusted Brenda to take the reins for a planned trunk-or-treat at grandson Anderson’s daycare. Of course she was up to the challenge and hit the ground running.

The event was to take place on October 30^th, which would give Brenda and Leigh enough of a runway to get the ball rolling.

Brenda has a distinct talent for putting together things like this. She was the brains behind Wes’ and Leigh’s rehearsal dinner, which took place at their home.

Like a military operation, Brenda and Leigh were in constant communication, both women running errands and coordinating things like supplies, decorations, meetup times and more.

When the day came, Leigh’s vehicle was transformed into a pumpkin patch, the hatch wide open with pumpkins, string lights,  leaf garlands and more – with the gang from Peanuts set behind the Telluride with ghost sheets covering precut tomato cages at the perfect height. My nephew’s wife helped with the cages – scoring and cutting them to size and drawing the iconic mask worn by Lucy in “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.” Brenda fabricated Shroeder’s coonskin cap.

You’d think the Peanuts gang was standing there, and you could almost hear Charlie Brown exclaim, “I got a rock….”

There was a table alongside the car, with goodies to give away – and the pumpkin patch extended onto the ground, in anticipation of The Great Pumpkin’s arrival.

And he arrived, dressed by his mother in the cutest pumpkin getup I have ever seen.

Photo: Leigh Schwartz

Enjoy these blog posts? I’d love it if you would subscribe.

Life “Off the Mat”

My son came over with my grandson yesterday.

I get as excited as a Jack Russell when its owner comes home from work…

It starts with a quick and purposeful knock at the door. My son also raps on the window of my office, which is adjacent to the front door.

I savor the moment, and take my time opening the door. First I stand behind it, peeking out with one eye before opening it fully.

My son with his son, standing there. My grandson in his arms, looking at me while taking pulls from his binky and smiling at the same time. You can tell he’s smiling because of his eyes.

Photo: Wes Yale aka Daddy

I melt.

And then, the handoff. Anderson knows I am about to grab him, and he acknowledges this with outstretched arms. He’s solid. Almost ten months old.

I give Wes a kiss on the top of his head. Anderson always notices this interaction. I wonder what he makes of it.

We show Anderson the Halloween decorations Brenda has done (it’s her specialty, Halloween). He takes it all in.

Brenda is jonesing to hold him. We make the transfer.

He sizes her up and proceeds to grab her cheek. And then he chomps down on her chin with his four front teeth – two up top and two on the bottom.

It probably hurts. She loves it. I’ve seen him do that to my daughter-in-law too. Somehow I’m jealous.

He “tells” us about how he is doing.

We set him on his playmat and he explores. In no time, he’s off the mat. He pulls himself up to standing position at any opportunity. Coffee table (protected by pillows), couch, chair. Proud as can be.

There’s an old commercial where a guy tells a little girl that she can only ride her bike in a little squared off area. Her response is classic:

“You can’t really ride in this little space.”

Anderson embodies that statement.

Enjoy life off the mat, Anderson. As Sam Cooke sung, that’s where it’s at.

Like these blog posts? I’d love it if you would subscribe.

Hanging With Anderson

My grandson, Anderson, is growing by leaps and bounds.

He’s just shy of the six month mark. In just a half a year, he has made a huge impact on the lives of those around him.

His way of looking at you, “talking” about his day – and that smile. That incredible, magnetic smile.

Over the past few days, we were able to visit with him in several places: His parents’ house, the YMCA for a swimming session – and at our place.

Having him here was such a high point for us, and even now we can feel his energy when we look at his play mat – now folded in half by our fake fireplace and ready to be put away. There are a few toys out still – all indicators that he recently graced us with his presence.

We almost don’t want to put that stuff away.

Brenda and I work second shift and Anderson is in day care, so the most we have been able to see him is on our evenings off, but more like one visit per week. But the stars aligned to allow for three back-to-back visits.

We were thrilled to be invited to tag along to watch him in the pool at The Y with other parents and babies. My son was in the pool with him. The instructor/attendant was awesome, giving instructions and guiding everybody through assorted aquatic activities. My daughter-in-law was at work, but we took scads of photos and sent them to her in real time.

It’s wonderful that Wes and Leigh have started him so young – allowing Anderson to get accustomed to being in the water. This will make for a well-rounded young man.

Afterwards, Wes brought Anderson to our place. I am happy to report that my grandson was comfortable in this new atmosphere. He played happily on his mat, exploring (and tasting) the toys we had set out for him, but it was clear that he was a bit worn out from the pool.  Brenda fed him, I burped him and Wes put him down in the little crib we have set up in our bedroom (thanks to Leigh’s parents). I put a white noise video up on YouTube on my tablet and laid it near him – but it timed out somehow.

He didn’t really sleep. Instead, he kept looking out from the slats and fidgeting – flopping from tummy to back and “talking.” He’s also got a cute little growl. It’s a trip!

Soon, Wes grabbed him up as we were about to head to work. Their next stop was a visit with his mom, who works not far from where we live.

I’m not sure if he conked out for long, but Wes sent a photo of Anderson sleeping in his car seat. I need to find out how the rest of his day went.

If you are a grandparent, you know. Being around this little human is unbridled joy.

And I can’t get enough of him.

Enjoy these blog posts? I’d love it it you would subscribe.

I’ll Show Them Cute

Chris with HIM

I was playing a show with my brother at LuLu’s North Myrtle Beach last night.

Family is in town, and most of them showed up for the gig, and I am happy about that.

But something happened that topped it all.

My heart skipped a bit when I saw three people come in: My son, my daughter-in-law (hard to miss with her gorgeous red hair) – and I know they were pushing a stroller…

It was HIM!

Anderson, my grandson, came to his first Yale Brothers show!

When I play shows, I enjoy making eye contact and waving at people – sometimes to distraction – and I thought for sure I’d be running offstage every two minutes to see Anderson. But I kept my cool, never mind my excitement. Keeping my cool is different from other people keeping their cool. My face is not an ally in these situations. It tells on me, which is why I probably wouldn’t be a very good poker player.

My brother went to the table a couple of times while we were playing. He has the benefit of playing his guitar with a wireless connection. I am tethered to my stage piano.

Anderson stole the show! On break, I got to hold him. Some young ladies were there for a bachelorette party, and there were oohs and ahs when they saw him. I brought Anderson to their table, and the group let out a heartfelt “awwwww” – and another passing young lady said something like… “I can’t…even…”

I get it. Me either.

There was a commercial where two grandfathers were exchanging photos of their grandchildren from their laptops, and one of them said… “Cute? I’ll show him cute!”

That’s where I’m at.

Somebody pinch me.