My favorite shows are the ones in venues that are tiny. They’re most likely either really hard to find, or I’m just a really poor navigator. I know the latter is the truth.
I got my car at 16, and that’s the time I realized that not much beats a road trip to a show with a group of friends. Well, quite honestly, I have no problem flyin’ solo.
Since probably 14 or 15 I’ve been into independent, socially conscious hip hop (Aesop Rock, Atmosphere, Immortal Technique, Eyedea & Abilities, Brother Ali, Sage Francis, Mac Lethal … I could continue, but won’t), reggae, and slam poetry. Funk, jazz fusion, blues, folk … all of that fun stuff too. You can keep your rock, country and pop, I don’t need any of that.
Sage Francis show in Philly? I’m there. Soja in Allentown? You betcha. Mac Lethal in Buffalo? Of course.
When I was 17 my friends and I decided to drive to Tennessee to go to Bonnaroo, a music festival with some 90,000 people.
That was a fun adventure. Planned for it for months. But not really. I mean, we bought our tickets months ahead of time, and I saved as much money as I could. But I packed my things the day we drove off.
I went to Bonnaroo again the following year. More adventures, more memories, more music. It was a good time.
There were a couple folks I met that remain – in my experience – the kindest humans I’ve encountered in my 25 years. 110 degrees in the middle of a field in Tennessee: Barely any shade, no shower for days, and I had the pleasure of randomly meeting strangers who I still think of all these years later.
To the man over 60 in the big floppy half-deflated inner tube hat: I hope you’re still around, loving life. Thank you for being the epitome of a kind human.
At any rate, Bonnaroo was fun for a 17-year-old Ashley.
I still prefer tiny venues where you can still feel the vibe from the show the night before. The place that just reeks of live music.
My friends and I would realize that someone we listened to had a show in, say, Philly, in a month or two – and within an hour our tickets would be purchased and we’d have our “plan.”
That is, get in the car that day, make sure we have gas to get there and back, and (personally) enough money in my pocket to give to a homeless individual if s/he asked. (On the sixth grade safety patrol trip we were told not to give money to people on the street. I have ever since. It’s my money, I’ll do with it what I wish).
I’ve been to hip hop shows in basements of buildings in cities I’d never been to before. It’s taken me forever to get out of Boston at 3 a.m. following a show because I am horrible with directions. Coming back from a show in Buffalo once, I still swear we were mere inches from smoking a deer on the thruway (I wasn’t driving that time … If I were, I’m sure we would have hit it. I’m notorious for that).
Each show brings me something to look forward to. A reason to continue to be happy when I have days that bum me out.
“Ugh, today really was not so awesome. Oh! Only three weeks until the Soja show, I’m good.”
It’s similar to how I feel when I plan a trip to New Hampshire. Knowing there are escapes that will refresh my soul keep me going.
Life wouldn’t be all that fun if all I ever did was work. I need those fantastic adventures to be able to tell little tikes later on.
Anyway, I’m not entirely sure why I’m blogging about this. It’s just a stream-of-consciousness ramble.
Oh, that’s right … I was thinking about upcoming plans and got excited.
I’ll be spending a full week camping in the White Mountains in New Hampshire in June. It’s the first time I’ll be taking a vacation. It’ll be my second trip to the Porcupine Freedom Festival. Last year, I could only go for the weekend, this year I’ll be there the entire week.
I also just learned (and by ‘just’ I mean … 20 minutes ago), that Michael Franti, Soja, and Trevor Hall will be playing in New Hampshire in July. I’ll purchase my ticket as soon as they go on sale next week. I’ve seen them all before, but it’s been too long. And better yet, they’re playing in one of the most beautiful areas of the lakes region in NH. A region I’ve only seen when the leaves were bright orange, so I’m excited to see it in the summertime.
Ahh… live music. New Hampshire. Escape.
And on that note, it’s back to work.
Archive for the 'Evening Sun Headlines' Category
My favorite shows are the ones in venues that are tiny. They’re most likely either really hard to find, or I’m just a really poor navigator. I know the latter is the truth.
I don’t travel too often.
Scratch that. I don’t travel at all. Truth is, I rarely have the time or money to make the three-mile trip to the grocery store, let alone board a plane headed anywhere but here. That’s not to say I wouldn’t love to travel someday – to Rome, Beijing, Mumbai, or, as my wife suggests, Fort Worth, Texas. But my wallet holds more moths and IOUs than it does travel rewards, so you can imagine how often I see the world outside Chenango County. I imagine it lives up to the glitz and glamor of fairytale cities the likes of Oz or Wonderland.
Then again, some of the characters I meet right here at home bar a striking resemblance to those seen in an unconventional fairytale.
Traveling is near the top of my bucket list and I’m ready to take off any time. I have a vacation savings account started, several possible destinations pinned on a map, one of those plastic toothbrush protectors, and enough clean underwear to get me at least two weeks (three or four if I turn them inside out). Yes, barring threats of terrorism, civil unrest, plague of locusts or natural disaster, I’m ready to head off to wherever – probably Fort Worth, since that’s what my wife wants. And if there’s something I’ve learned in four years of marriage, it’s when the wife ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.
Nevertheless, traveling anywhere might still be a ways off. Fortunately there’s plenty to do in Norwich this weekend. On Friday, the curtain opens on this year’s production of “Damn Yankees” at the Norwich High School, the Chenango County Historical Society is unveiling their latest exhibit which celebrates the centennial of the City of Norwich on Saturday, and the Norwich Dollars for Scholars 5k takes off early Saturday. I look forward to all of them.
When I arrived at the Evening Sun for my first day as a reporter I had to sit in my car for a few minutes after I pulled into the parking lot. I wiped my palms on my pants because they were sweaty and made sure to take a few deep breaths. But as soon as I entered the office I relaxed because Ashley and Matt greeted me with warm and friendly smiles – even though I was interrupting their meeting. Matt asked me to sit and went into a break down of a typical day.
They both made me feel at ease and answered my questions, which were quite numerous considering the fact that I have never worked as a journalist before. Don’t get me wrong – I have enjoyed writing since I was little (just ask my mom). But I haven’t had much experience interviewing before (yikes!) and my note taking can get pretty messy. So please, dear reader, if I happen to interview you, I would greatly appreciate patience and understanding as I navigate my way through asking questions.
But I digress… After figuring out what story idea I should pitch for my first article the fun continued. I was introduced to Richard Snyder, owner of Snyder Communications, who was very warm and informative. Shawn offered to show me around and I was able to meet District Attorney Joseph McBride and Mayor Joseph Maiurano. He thought it best I meet them because I will be covering the cases that appear in the courtroom – a task I am excited to take on.
Overall, I feel lucky to have joined a fun team, I’ve started a career that will allow me to write and get paid for it (everyone in the journalism industry knows how rare a thing that is), and I get to interview the people that make up the area and home I love. I couldn’t ask for more than that!
In July I traded in my car. I got it from my father when I turned 16, and named it Saucey. It was a 2005 Chevy Cobalt. The first song I listened to in that car was G. Love and Special Sauce’s “Baby’s Got Sauce,” and therefore Saucey was the only appropriate name for him.
Yes, “him.” I name just about every object I cross paths with. Everything is given a male’s name, because I’ve always thought they were better options. Felix, Saucey, Victor, Toby … all these are names of things I own or am in contact with often.
“Hey, Shawn … did anyone water and rotate Victor today?” I named former Sports Editor Pat Newell’s 30-year-old tangerine tree Victor. And no, I don’t think he has been watered and rotated yet today.
At any rate, Saucey took me on thousand of adventures. He was a solid little car. His time with me was up, and I cried when I traded him in and purchased a 2013 Subaru.
I thought I’d never see my faithful pal ever again.
I’m happy to report that is not the case, and Saucey is alive and well, as of last Saturday.
Shawn sent me a photo months ago of a blue Chevy Cobalt parked in the lot of a Norwich business and asked if it might be Saucey. It most certainly was. The broken antenna and the little spot of blue paint near the back left bumper where it was supposed to be black was a give-away.
That antenna got bent when I was living in Buffalo going to school for psychology. There was a snow storm in early October that dropped more than two feet of snow, and bent the antenna. That must have been 2006; I never got it fixed. I just periodically would have to “push and turn” and it’d go back to its original position, and it’d stay that way until I drove faster than 50 mph, in which case I’d have to fix it again.
It also poked many people in the eye. Those people need better observation skills when walking through parking lots.
Shawn said the antenna remains bent and that is how he identifies it as Saucey.
I’ve replaced Saucey with a car I call ‘Schino. He’s “deep cherry red” and the first song I listened to in that vehicle was an Aesop Rock tune that references maraschino cherries at one point.
‘Schino was just a baby when I bought him, and he just broke 10,000 miles. I did some math the other day, and realized that nearly 7,000 of those miles were built up traveling to, from, or within New Hampshire. That made me a very happy camper. I’m looking forward to thousands more journeys with my new pal.
Anyway, this blog is pretty much about nothing. I name things, including my cars, and I’m happy to know that Saucey is still around town.
To whomever acquired Saucey: Thanks for keepin’ him going. I hope he’s treating you as well as he treated me.
You’ve gotta love social media at it’s finest. It’s not a stretch of the imagination to say that we all, in one fashion or another, have played the role of the “Monday quarterback” or backseat driver, but the anonymity of the internet’s exploited overuse of emoticons, memes and avatars in a fictitious virtual world is more prevalent to some than good old fashioned face-to-face communication.
Recently a picture of a couple of Norwich City PD officers goofing off in the office re-surfaced on Facebook, and like clockwork the opposing forces collided like some sort of super hero battle of good versus evil. More than 100 Facebookers had strong feelings either for against the photograph from “alleged” locations as far as California.
Personally, I don’t think the act itself was especially heinous or cause for alarm. After all, People fool around all the time at work, and again – sometimes one falls through the cracks. At most is was just some inappropriate tom foolery that, I’ll admit didn’t even go all that far.
Now, you can choose to love or hate the guy over on Chenango County Memes – often known for his seemingly slanderous approach to all things disgraceful in the ‘Nango – for the content that he posts, but at the end of the day there is integral accountability associated with everything that he post. The administrator of that page is comfortable in his shoes and is transparent, rarely (if ever) does he seem to be offended by the slew of derogatory comments often channeled his way from people with differing onions.
Humans are fallible by nature. The one thing that people of all faiths and denominations can agree on is that people make mistakes. Heck, even the anarchists admit that.
You have made mistakes. I have made mistakes.
Four years ago I was arrested and charged with a DWI… I blew a .08%… so I was the legal definition of intoxicated, which for a man of my size really doesn’t seem like much. What was more detrimental for the outcome of my situation was that I “fled” the police and hit two parked cars. My explanation, I panicked – plain and simple.
Needless to say, it cost me greatly. It cost me a marriage, a $35,000 car, at least $5,000 in legal fees, restitution and eventually a short stint in county jail. No fun.
As embarrassing as the entire incident is, I owned it… and I still do. I don’t hide from the fact that I did something callous and stupid, and I never will. It’s in the past and I have moved on. No one died, thankfully. Some will always argue “Someone could have died,” and I’ll always counter, “did they?”
Where the “cop-selfie heard round the entire city of Norwich” ties into my story is when I commented on the Facebook post something along the lines of “Anything shared on the internet is permanent and never goes away,” something that the officers in the photo probably understand well and clear.
Where this story gets interesting is that an unidentified individual with an anonymous profile begrudgingly posted a link to the ES story that a former reporter wrote of my shortcomings four years ago. It was news, and it was his job, and I can now respect that.
This anonymous person basically tried to throw me under the bus and humiliate me.
Did it work? Absolutely not.
In response, I sent a message to this “masked man” (or woman… which I like to assume is the case since the sex of the person in question is listed as “male” on the profile… and deception seems to be his/her thing) calling them out for their cowardly act of trying to oust folks who may have fallen from grace accountable, yet remain anonymous and “untouchable” – effectively unaccountable for their actions.
Moral of the story; When attempting to mar someones character by shedding light on a past mishap –
1) Just. Don’t. Because that just makes you a jerk. And a coward.
2) You’d better have a face and an identity to back it up – and be as transparent as the guy you’re trying to throw under the bus. If you’re going to call someone out, you’d better expect that you’ll be called out. If not, you just look foolish. VERY foolish.
It’s been ten days since my last blog. Ten busy, busy days. Jam packed full of work, more work, and a couple days of escape. Regardless, no complaints here. Well, I suppose a few – but those are minute and will come later.
• Our new sports writer has been solo for a full week now, and tomorrow will begin week two. He’s adjusting to the way the newsroom operates, and is a welcomed addition to the team.
• The editorial staff has been sick lately, and thankfully I haven’t caught their illness. [Knock on wood]. Shawn cured his illness with NyQuil, and Matt opted for Claritin. I just keep my office door closed just and yell out to them.
• I spent last weekend in New Hampshire, my favorite place to clear my head. Two of my favorite stress relievers: A visit to The Granite State and painting my nails. I returned to New York with a clear head and refreshed spirit, only to have a ridiculously busy work week.
• I attended a court proceeding one day this week that absolutely disturbed me. Without divulging any details, I will say that I lost track of how many times my eyes became watery. Some people choose to do some disgusting things. I’ll leave it at that.
• I had interviews with various folks this week, and have a number of non-time sensitive stories in the works. Those are the ones easiest for me to cover, as editor. Stories with subject matter that can be published at any time provide me the ability to get to it as time permits, and my time is limited. I’ll be spending today writing four or five of the stories on my back-burner. As long as I have coffee, I don’t mind.
• Thursday I did a ride-along with a Chenango County Sheriff’s deputy. My mama always told me not to get in cars with strangers. I opted to disregard that piece of advice for a night, and got in a car with not only a stranger, but an armed stranger. I spent eight hours with him, and will be writing a column summing up the experience soon. Sneak preview: I signed a waiver assuming all risk and liability – up to and including death. I didn’t die. He was also a nice guy. He first majored in environmental science in college, then switched to criminal justice. Eight hours worth of material to come when time permits.
• I’ll be doing another ride-along (hopefully soon), with two NPD officers. A day shift and a night shift. I’m excited about that – and will write about that following the experience.
• Wednesday evening I’ll head up to Syracuse University to hear Ron Paul speak. Absolutely looking forward to that, and I’ll have a story – and separate opinion piece – after I return from that and have some time to write.
• On top of that, I’ll continue to build the paper every day, and continue to have a life outside of work. I didn’t have “Live for a living” inked into my shoulder for nothin’.
• As for complaints, they’re minor. I just wish people who submit posts on ’30 Seconds’ were a little more mindful and a little more thick-skinned. I don’t get offended by the personal attacks toward me. While I might not always publish them due to their vulgar nature, you have the right to ‘write’ your mind. Berating other posters is just not kind. If you read a story about … let’s say the Common Core, and have an opinion, feel free to submit something. If you just check it to say that the “‘Man from wherever’ is a jerk because of X, Y, and Z,” just save it. I’m doing my best to put a paper out, and don’t have extra hours to babysit.
• On a happier note, I’ve been at The Evening Sun for a little more than 11 months now. Neat.
Out of coffee; end blog.
Spring, the season of life. Tree buds, bright flowers… and a possible nor’easter making its way into the area as early as Tuesday. Dreams do come true.
A tip of the hat to the Sherburne-Earlville Parent Advocate Group for Thursday’s forum hosted at the S-E High School. The meeting served as an excellent resource for parents and students who are muddled by the the contested education reform known as the Common Core. Speaking as someone who believes the Common Core is the worst things to happen to public education since candy bar fundraisers (which I’m typically guilted into), I feel like I can get behind the group and its efforts to inform parents about their children’s options when it comes to high-stakes testing. On the other hand, there’s two sides to every story. In that respect, it’s only appropriate to read what the New York State Board of Regents has to say and make your own judgments.
Additional congratulations to newly dubbed Evening Sun sports editor Shaun Savarese. With Pat Newell’s final farewell last Friday, Shaun finished out his first week flying solo on the job, and did so free of bitter phone calls, hate mail, or any threat of physical harm by readers. Off to a promising start, indeed.
I should also offer a personal apology to Chenango County Sheriff Ernest Cutting, who, for reasons unbeknownst even to myself, I identified in a recent article as “Richard” Cutting (though in my defense, I can recall a professor Richard Cutting from my college days). Just another side affect of switching to auto-pilot at work. On the up side, at least I made the coffee right that day…
Duke’s out already. And just like that, the otherwise tedious task of scoring entries in our March Mania Contest becomes a simpler process. I love March.
I overheard Pat this morning talking about basketball. NBA vs. college. I said from my office, “I like the Mavericks.” I don’t watch sports. I have favorite teams for arbitrary reasons. My father lives in Fort Worth, so bam … Mavericks. Football, it’s the Kansas City Chiefs. But that’s a story for another day.
Anyway, Pat asked if I could name one player from the Mavericks. I could. Dirk. I also knew Jason Terry used to play for them. That’s as far as we went with that.
I didn’t have the pleasure of working with Pat for 18 years. When he started as Sports Editor I was in third grade, probably. I never played sports in school, so he never covered me. I played the cello and took dance classes.
I’ve worked with Pat since April. I remember the Post-it notes I wrote myself my first week with various reminders of writing in AP style. That Friday, I got an email from Pat that started with, “Hi Ashley, I noticed your Post-its, I hope you don’t mind me offering you a few more tips.” I didn’t mind at all. I still have the email.
Pat knows sports. He knows writing. And he knows numbers. When I need quick math, he’s my go-to guy.
He had the most interesting work area I’ve seen. Photos, newspapers, artwork, even a pillow. Dedicated to his job, no doubt about it.
If I needed help, Pat was my person. If he didn’t know how to assist, he knew an employee who could. Mind you, while there are only four of us in The Evening Sun building, there are other Snyder Communications employees that play roles, and Pat has worked with them throughout the years.
I know I’ve written before about how I’ll miss being able to hear him tapping to whatever music he is listening to each morning as he designs his pages. But I really will. I’ll miss walking out of my office to the spot where his wall is lower so I don’t have to stand on my tip-toes to talk to him about whatever-it-is we’re chatting about.
18 years. It’s like he’s all grown up and going off to college. But instead of college he’s off on a four-day road trip to New Mexico to start a brand new adventure.
I may or may not have gotten slightly emotional about his departure. I’m not tellin’.
Shaun Savarese will assume the role of Sports Writer. Pat has taken him under his wing the last couple weeks, and he’s getting the hang of things. I’m looking forward to working with him.
It’s not really my style to say it out loud, but … I’ll miss you, Pat. Best of luck, and keep in touch. I’ll keep an eye on your tree.
Also, I’m sorry I almost got in your car 27 times because ours are almost the same color.
…I don’t know if I ever told you about that.
The winter sports season came to a sorrowful end on Saturday when the Norwich boys’ basketball team suffered their first loss of the year to the Westhill Warriors. As the season ends, so too does Pat Newell’s 17-plus-year tenure with The Evening Sun. As most readers already know, Pat is getting ready to ride off into the sunset, which happens to be over Albuquerque. Pat’s leaving behind a solid standing at the newspaper, a notable reputation in the Chenango County sports scene, and a cluttered cubicle with year’s worth of old sports notes, contacts, newspapers, and I’m guessing a former reporter who got buried underneath it all.
While Pat will certainly be missed by staff and readers alike, his replacement, Shaun Savarese, is just settling in. Shaun brings a fresh new perspective to The Evening Sun. With a background in sports broadcasting and an eagerness to jump into his new role as the go-to sports guy in Chenango County, Shaun’s off to a good start and in time (precisely 17 years) he will fill Pat’s shoes nicely.
For the sake of news, I should mention the number of open murder cases in Chenango County dropped from four to three last Friday, after Geneia Rood pleaded guilty to manslaughter. Rood was accused last fall of causing the death of an infant after giving the baby alcohol while she was babysitting. Over the week, I’ve heard it said several times that four open murder cases sets a new precedent in the county – not exactly the kind of “overachieving” status we should shoot for. Nevertheless, this is our new reality. To the people who have said that Chenango County has lost touch with its longstanding peaceful community reputation, I acquiesce. I love Chenango County; but it has done an about face in the last decade, with increasing drug problems, poverty, felony offenses, and (my biggest pet-peeve) a broad misunderstanding of how all these things are intertwined. But what can I say, home is where the heart is…
On the cheerier side of things, the American Civil War Wax Museum in Gettysburg, Pa. Is set to auction off a life-sized animatronic Abe Lincoln to raise money after completing a recent renovation… and evidently, to clear out its surplus Abe Lincolns. While the museum says the statue is the perfect addition to a collector’s smorgasbord of Civil War memorabilia, we at The Evening Sun envision a much more practical purpose. Lincoln would be the perfect employee to enforce the “employees only” sign on the front door. He’s tall, intimidating, works for free, and won’t argue. We can’t ask for a better fit.
I love wrestling, and to this day, I wonder why I didn’t compete on the Norwich High School wrestling team. I played junior varsity basketball for the Purple Tornado, but I knew in seventh and eighth grade that accolades were not coming my way on the hardwood floor.
Post high school I have heard more than a few times: “Did you wrestle in high school?”
“Well, you would have been pretty good.”
“Thanks for telling me that 25 years too late.”
From a professional – and personal – standpoint, it crushed me when I had to decide what event I would cover Saturday, March 1. In Binghamton, Norwich was playing in back-to-back Section IV basketball championship games. In Albany at the Times Union Arena, the New York State High School Wrestling Championships were being held.
In the end, I chose the basketball games because I like dealing in certainties.
Driving to Albany early Saturday morning, there was no guarantee any of the local wrestlers would advance to the evening’s finals. But, I did have an ace in the hole: 21st century technology, and a couple of close friends giving me updates.
If this was 1997, I would have never had the details that appeared in Monday’s sports section.
While covering the basketball games, I received text messages from my longtime buddies, John Klockowski and Charlie McMullen. Both were standout wrestlers during their high school days, and each remains passionate about the sport.
Time Warner Sports aired the state finals, and as events transpired, JK sent me messages. I had period by period updates of Tristan Rifanburg’s 7-1 state finals win over Laken Cook, and two weight classes later, received a summary of Frankie Garcia’s state title victory. I remember smiling when Klock gave me a second-period update on Garcia: “Garcia is up 4-0 with two tilts in the second.”
Thank you to my friends, thank you to the inventor of text messaging, and thank you Time Warner for airing the state championships.
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