Friday, January 24, 2020

The Elterich Cottage in Rhode Island


“Some places are like people. Some shine and some don’t.” –Dick Hallorann, The Shining


For 30 years, the Elterich Cottage in South Kingston, Rhode Island shined. A spacious house tucked away in the woods, within a short driving distance of several beaches, it served as the perfect setting for birthdays, weekends, vacations, spending time with family, partying with friends, or just getting away for a night.

I was 9 when my parents bought the house, set back a good 100 yards from Matunuck School House Road. The dirt driveway, commonly referred to as the entrance to the Batcave, took travelers on a windy path through the woods and eventually opened up to a large grass patch next to a brown, 2-story (including the basement) house and a wooden deck. The deck was massive, large enough to hold 30 years of family gatherings and parties.

A large staircase led from the main deck to a smaller deck and the front door. I always hated sweeping the leaves and sticks off the decks and stairs as a kid. It felt like half of my day was spent sweeping, although it probably took all of 10 minutes. Even on vacation, my parents made sure I understood hard work and responsibility.

I realized early on how lucky I was to have a "vacation" home. It's just not a thing most people have. It took me a little longer to appreciate my parents' openness with the house. When I  was young, it felt obvious that my friends would be able to stay with me for the weekend, and go to the beach and eat burgers and fish and corn on the cob and play ping pong. But not every parent is willing to do that for their kids and kids' friends. My parents also let family and friends stay there when they weren't using it, something else a lot of people wouldn't do, not without charging a crazy amount anyway.

The stairs to the front door of the house have presented a problem in the last few years as my mother has lost the ability to walk. My dad had an electric stair chair installed, which helped for a while. Fortunately, Gremlins never toyed with it and shot my mom up into the night sky, but it was still a lot of extra work to get to a house that was supposed to provide a restful getaway.

More than that, though, maintaining a second house was just too much. We would all have loved to keep the house forever, but the reality is that it cost money and required a lot of effort from my Dad to maintain. Besides, it wasn't getting much use, certainly not enough to warrant the time, money, and effort. We're 90 minutes away, and I'm not really a huge beach guy anyway; one reason I liked the house so much growing up was that it wasn't right on the beach, crowded in with other cookie cutter cottages. My brother and his family are even further away, and the same goes for most of my family. As far as spending weekends there with a big group of friends, it's hard to get a group of friends together nearby, let alone in a different state. Plus people have kids and we're at the age where everyone wants their own bed; sleeping on the floor with some pillows next to three other guys just won't cut it anymore. It's a decent sized house, but long gone are the days when 10-12 people could stay over night comfortably.









Ahh, youth.

It's sad to say goodbye and not have the option of "heading down to Rhode Island" at any time, but it was a necessary step. Moving or selling a house is hard because in addition to losing the house, it feels like losing the memories, too. Every corner of every room contained multiple memories, and being there was like traveling to the past. Each visit also created new memories, stacked on top of the old ones. There was always a special energy in the house, the vibrations of all those cherished moments. Spending time there flooded me with positive feelings. Almost everyone (animals included) I've ever cared for has spent time there.

But of course, memories stay with us, whether the house (or person, or pet) is with us or not. All we can do is cherish those memories.

Although I didn't live there, the house in Rhode Island has been in my life longer than any other home. I lived with my parents in Hartford for 14 years, then West Hartford for about 11 years (my parents have been in WH for 25 years total). But I have been celebrating birthdays and Independence Days, and spending weekends and summer weeks at the house in Rhode Island for 3 decades straight.

Four generations experienced that house, albeit not at the same time. My nieces and my grandmothers both spent time there. I remember being there with my grandmother, E-Mommy, while my parents were out. I jumped off the top deck and somehow hit my chin against my knee, almost biting my tongue off. I ran in crying and she calmed me down, soothed the injury, and told me not to worry about getting in trouble. Exactly what I needed to hear.

Even the things I hated as a kid bring back positive feelings now. When we were down there on the weekend, even when my friends were there, we always had to go to church, where a guy played guitar poorly and everyone sang poorly. But that was the price we had to pay to go to the flea market (which had cheap t-shirts and baseball cards) and the beach, or to get corn on the cob and rent a movie from the local video store.

There was a local video store! I remember watching Ace Ventura over and over for an entire weekend one time with a friend. For a long time we only had basic cable, so we didn't have many options if we didn't rent a movie. I remember watching many episodes of The Commish and Father Dowling's Mysteries. We also had a ton of puzzles and board games. My two favorite were always Pictionary and Pass the Pigs.

I loved being down there with friends, or just my brother and parents. I really liked the solitude as well. I had a lot of time to myself, and I read a lot. I also explored the woods around the house, but I never went too deep because the mosquitoes were monstrous. I loved the little stream next to the house, where ducks and geese would swim by and sometimes come up to the porch for bread. Until our dog Dakota caught one. They found another stream after that.

I also got to drive my Dad's old little red moped around town. I'd spend hours riding. If a friend was down there we'd alternate between the moped and a bike. I only ran out of gas once, and only fell off once. I also burnt my leg on the exhaust once and my hair still doesn't grow there. But I'll always think of the little red moped when I think of Rhode Island.

And the ice cream shop. Tropic Frost. It just wasn't a trip to Rhode Island without stopping there. My mom had to get her black raspberry chocolate chip. I had to get a massive hot fudge sundae. That was always a great way to end a day at the beach.

Early on we put up a basketball hoop in the driveway. Even though the court was mostly dirt and stones, we made the most out of it, until it was too rotted out. We also made the most out of the ping pong table, which was lopsided when we first got it. I don't know how it lasted a weekend let alone 30 years. If you leaned on it the whole thing collapsed. But I honed my ping pong skills there and now use my superior ping pong skills to beat kids at work.

Although I never really got into it, I remember fishing with my dad. Charleston Beach has the breachway, a large rock formation jutting out into the ocean. I liked climbing and walking on that more than the actual fishing, but I appreciate my dad taking me with him and teaching me. Even if I don't take up an activity, it doesn't mean I didn't enjoy or appreciate the experience. I mostly didn't like waking up early. Even though fishing wasn't my thing, there's nothing better than eating fish right out of the ocean. I vividly remember a blackfish he caught and cooked up. Before I really got into eating fish, I always loved eating what he caught, even though I could never join him in cleaning the fish.

I always preferred crabbing to fishing. Moonstone Beach had a great spot for blue crabs. There was a small sand bridge over a lagoon, right before the beach itself. We'd stand on the bridge and drop a fishing line tied to a big chicken drumstick into the water. When we first started, we'd see a dozen crabs scurrying after the chicken. When one grabbed on, we'd slowly pull it closer until we could reach it with a net, then scoop it right out. We'd catch ten in an hour. A couple giant snapping turtles lived in there, and we scooped those bad boys up, too. We'd immediately put them back but it was cool to watch them snapping their teeth at us. In later years, we'd be lucky to catch a couple crabs the entire afternoon. Maybe we overdid it those early years.

Of course, those weren't the only type of crabs you could catch at Moonstone Beach....I think that was the first place I saw the nude body of a stranger in real life. Going to a nude beach was...not exactly the experience I imagined it would be. Mostly because the beachgoers at Moonstone tended to be members of the AARP. It was one of my first experiences learning the value of limited expectations. But I also learned to appreciate body positivity and that people are entitled to do what they want with their bodies, even if they maybe shouldn't.

As I got older, my parents trusted my friends and I with the house for occasional getaways. We always managed to respect the house while enjoying ourselves. I even willingly swept the decks! Only once, the cops were called on us. Actually, it was twice but in the same night. The vast woods around the house carry every single sound, and apparently our neighbors didn't like our sing-a-long. But we loved it.


It would have been great to always have it as an option for vacations or weekends, but we're not rich, and healthcare is an expensive, tragic joke in this country. The house wouldn't be used enough to make it worthwhile. Holding on to it just for the sake of memories isn't realistic, and it wouldn't be fair, either. Houses are for people to use, not sit empty for 350 days of the year. It's a great house and space, and hopefully some other family or group of people can make the lasting memories that we did.

So, Elterich Cottage, thanks for the memories. Mom and Dad, thanks for providing this amazing place for me and Mike to experience during our formative years, and well beyond. Family and friends, thank you all for helping to make this place special. It will be greatly missed, but it's time to move on. So it goes.




I Love You All...Class Dismissed. 

Friday, January 10, 2020

The Last Grandparent

I never knew my grandfathers. One died before I was born, the other died shortly after. Luckily I had good relationships with my grandmothers, who lived into their 90s. But I was only 12 when my mom's mom died and 26 when my dad's mom died, so although I was lucky to have them in my life at all, I still feel like I didn't get enough time with them.

About 7 years ago, which was about 7 years after my last grandparent died, I received an unexpected gift: another grandmother. When my girlfriend Amy was sure enough about me to introduce me to the family, her own last grandparent, Pauline--Nani, immediately accepted me and loved me like only a grandmother can. I met her when she was in her late 80s, but with her short, grayish-white hair always perfectly permed, and a mind as sharp as her outfits, she looked and functioned like she was in her 60s. Whenever I saw her, she'd tell Amy and I how much she loved us and our relationship. It was always great to sit and chat with her, talking about her life growing up or about the trips Amy and I went on. Sometimes she'd complain about getting older but always with a wry sense of humor. Like many strong willed people, she seemed to resent the aging process, with the constant pain and not being able to function as she once did. Still, at 96, she was in incredible shape mentally and physically. But with that health came a sad irony: she outlived most of her family and friends. She never wallowed in despair, but she often acknowledged the loneliness she felt.

Despite the pain and loneliness of living for nearly an entire century, she seemed to relish her role as the family matriarch and she did her best to make it to every family function, where she'd always be the most highly revered guest, reminiscing with her kids and grandkids and playing with the greatgrandkids.

Recently she was diagnosed with lymphedema. Her time had come, and she was ready. Last week she began the process of entering hospice care, and early this week she passed away.

I was able to visit her a few days before she died. She was still herself, but her health was beginning to decline, and she becoming tired and a little confused. Morphine was also starting to have an effect on her capabilities, but at least it was taking her pain away. As she sat and talked with Amy and I, along with Amy's parents, we asked if she wanted lunch, knowing that it very well could be her last real meal. She looked at me and said, "You know what I want? A McDonald's cheeseburger."

So the 96 year old daughter of immigrants who grew up in Hell's Kitchen ate a McDonald's burger and fries for her last meal. I have never seen anything so American. I wanted to salute her and sing the National Anthem.

In all honesty, it was a perfect meal for the situation. Although I haven't eaten McDonald's in a while, it still reminds me of childhood, when a visit to McDonald's with the family was a special treat. McDonald's has gotten a bad rap over the years, and rightfully so. People eat it because it's quick and cheap, and it's undoubtedly contributed to the obesity epidemic, but it's an undeniable cultural marker and a part of most Americans' lives (maybe even most humans in general now). The meals can be very tasty, but I think we taste nostalgia more than the food itself. Food has the ability to bring us back to a specific time and place and emotion. The burger or chicken nugget is just a delivery system for joyful memories and feeling like a kid again. Nani didn't necessarily want a cheap burger, she wanted the memories of eating McDonald's with her family and friends throughout her life. It's called comfort food for a reason, and at this point, comfort was her number one priority.

I have many positive memories involving McDonald's, and now I can add one more very special memory to the list.

After eating, Nani made sure to tell us how much she loved Amy and I. She had also become somewhat close with my mom over the last few years, a bond formed by their battles with deteriorating health. She told me to give my mom her love and reminded me to always speak to my mom from my heart, a line so perfect it felt like dialogue from a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel.

She cried a bit, and it was clear she was afraid, but more than anything she was ready. I have never been so close to someone who knew they were dying soon. I know how emotional it was for me, so I can only imagine how it was for her. I don't think everyone has her strength in their final days. Having lived a good life helps with accepting death, I suppose. She had previously said that she was ready to die, but it was now an impending reality, and death is still the great unknown. Her mental capacities were working enough to know that death is scary regardless how prepared she was. But she was ready, and I only hope I can ever be as brave.

It's said that people often wait for "permission" from loved ones to finally let go; maybe that's the case, but she was not exactly the type to ask "permission." It felt more like she was satisfied with her life and ready for death, and she wanted her family to be ready as well. She waited for Christmas and the New Year (she made it 11 decades!). She waited until most family members saw her one last time, then she went on her own terms, surrounded by family. That's the best anyone can ask for, and it's what she deserved.

I only knew her for a few years, but I'm so grateful to have had her in my life. Everyone should get the opportunity to spend more time with a grandparent, especially one like her.

Goodbye, Nani, my last grandmother. You will be missed.



I Love You All...Class Dismissed. 

Sunday, January 5, 2020

Prof Thuggy's Movie Reviews

I have written some movie reviews on this blog over the years and it's always fun, and I've always meant to do more, or at the very least, write personal journals or notes about movies, but I never motivated myself to do it. I generally watch movies for enjoyment, a way to relax, and although reviewing movies is fun, it's also a chore. Sometimes motivation needs to come from an outside source; money is a big motivator, but that's not happening for online movie reviews. Sometimes, the necessary motivation can come from something even simpler, like new technology or an app on your phone.

Letterboxd is an app that lets you easily rate and review any movie, and connects you with other people doing the same. Since I downloaded it in October, I've reviewed every movie I've watched. I hope people are enjoying reading the reviews as much as I enjoy writing them, but honestly I'm gonna keep doing them either way, you can't stop me!

I don't know why the app has motivated me so much. I could have easily logged into this site or opened the Notes app on my phone and reviewed any movie. I think a lot of little elements came together perfectly to finally overcome my laziness.

There's the social aspect of Letterboxd. There's a sense of "community" and it's easy to share reviews and find other people's reviews (although the interface could be a lot better). A lot of comedians and historians or just funny, knowledgeable people share their takes on movies. It's an easy to use writing app with a comprehensive movie database. Cast and crew, ratings, reviews, anything you want to know about a movie.

I love the simple 5 Star rating system that lets you easily compare your feelings about a movie to the public's. There's also a "like" button, which is an important distinction from a rating. My ratings aren't based completely on whether I "like" a movie or not. I don't like some very well made movies, but I like some very shitty movies. The "like" button gives a simpler yet more absolute take on the film. Did you enjoy the thing or not? I don't enjoy most 1-2 star movies, but I can definitely appreciate an over the top terrible 1-2 star movie with objectively horrible special effects, a dumb story, and awful acting (like Halloween 3). I may give a well made movie a 3 but I might not "like" it because it's dull or derivative or directed by Woody Allen. Or maybe it's not a genre that I overly enjoy; a beautifully made romantic period piece probably won't get more than a 3 and a half stars from me at best. Then again, I can appreciate most types of movies, from Citizen Kane to Road House (the Citizen Kane of redneck bar brawl movies) and I take into consideration the genre and the purpose of a movie when rating. There are different scales for different genres. I won't rate Dumb and Dumber on the same scale as Dunkirk because they have vastly different purposes. If a comedy succeeds at being funny, it gets a good rating. If a psychedelic mystery thriller succeeds at being trippy and mysterious and fun, it gets a good rating. Then there's horror. The quality of a horror film isn't just based on whether it's scary. A Nightmare on Elm Street is undoubtedly a classic and it's not scary at all. It's uniquely absurd. A horror movie can be considered a classic if it's really scary or creepy, or if it creates an interesting, unique mythos, or if it's extra gory, or if the special effects are really good, or if the special effects are reallly bad, or if it's purposely funny, or non-purposely funny. Horror is the most subjective of all genres. I think originality is the most important thing for a horror movie. It doesn't even need to be a completely original story, sometimes just an original spin on a story, or even an original spin on one part of a story, is enough. Shit, even if it's completely unoriginal but the story is told well, that can be a solid horror movie. Like the remake of Texas Chainsaw in 2003. Horror fans don't ask for much, and sadly, Hollywood still barely meets expectations.

Ultimately, I try to take in to account my personal feelings about the movie as well as the technical achievements of the film, like the acting, writing, special effects, cinematography, soundtrack, what have you, so I would never give something a 4 or 5 that I don't actually "like."

I put a lot of thought into my reviews and ratings. I agonize over a half star. But I'm doing that for myself. I don't care if I'm "right" or if anyone agrees. I try to use my knowledge of films and film history and the fundamentals of storytelling to inform my reviews and ratings, but I am mainly trying to clarify and document my own feelings for each movie I watch, so I rate movies by simply trying to compare each one to every other movie I've ever seen.

And let's be honest, I'm getting to that age where I don't remember every detail of every movie I've ever seen, and sometimes even main aspects of a movie, so this also serves as a reminder. Now to be fair, it's not all age, I've also seen a lot of movies in the last 40 years. I've read a lot of books, watched a lot of shows...it's hard to keep all this shit straight!

I also like the thought of having these reviews to read in the future. If I rewatch a movie I want to reread my review because something I love now might seem shitty in 10-20 years, like most 80's comedies. 

Most of all, reviewing movies is plain old fun. It's just talking movies, man! Show your appreciation, repeat your favorite lines, make fun of the actors, acknowledge some little unimportant but cool thing one of the actors did or maybe some little special effect failure that ruined the whole movie, try to figure out deeper meanings of the story, point out connections between other movies. I love telling people about good movies. The only thing I like more is telling people about bad movies. I also love arguing about movies. It's fun to disagree about whether a movie is good or shitty or The Best Movie of The Decade or The Worst Thing I've Ever Seen because...it literally doesn't matter. It's all entertainment. It's all opinion. It's the best type of argument because there can be no right or wrong. We can watch the exact same thing and even have the exact same understanding of it, and yet we can come to the exact opposite conclusion as far as whether it was "good" or not. I know some things about cinema and history and literature that help me appreciate and understand movies, but my opinion doesn't mean more than anyone else's. When it comes down to it, you like what you like, I like what I like and it doesn't matter, and we're both right. People get upset sometimes because we often identify closely with the entertainment we enjoy, so someone calling your favorite show garbage feels like someone calling you garbage. I assure you, it's not the same. Unless we're talking about the Big Bang Theory. That's a garbage show for garbage people.

But I'm thankful for Letterboxd, another technological innovation that has improved my life. We focus so much on the negative when it comes to technology. We either fantasize about technology taking over society and enslaving, or we complain about every new invention rotting the brains of the younger generation, even as adults use the same things. Think about what different technologies have allowed us to do throughout the ages, and think abut the backlash to each new invention. Internet and smartphones are "ruining" the youth now, but typewriters, calculators, even watches were all going to bring about the end of civilization. And while there certainly can be harmful elements to any technology (hello, guns!) most technology has served its purpose to vastly improve practical functions. I can write a lot more effectively and efficiently on a computer than with a pen or on a type writer. Hell, even guns keep getting better at their main function: killing.

Technology also gets blamed for influencing bad behavior because of ease of access. Again, that certainly holds true for guns, but think about porn as well (guns and porn, this is my most American post yet!). While porn was always huge, more people than ever can watch it or participate in it because the internet. Now, there's the whole argument about whether porn is "bad behavior" or not, but that's for another time. Regardless, I think technology influences behavior in positive ways more so than negative. Technology can provide a stimulant to act because of the ease of function, and while that may lead to more porn, it can lead to more creative writing or research or even healthier living. I'm doing these reviews now because it's easier than it's ever been, and I started exercising more recently because I found a cheap yet quality stationary bike that I can easily ride while watching movies on Netflix on the big screen in my living room . Thanks, scientists and engineers!

If you want to join the fun, download Letterboxd or visit their website. Follow me, Prof Thuggy, at https://letterboxd.com/realearl13/

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.