Dana and I rarely hung out much, but I found myself teetering around her cube as she spoke on the phone with her Mom who was getting news from her TV. Nothing was on the internet yet. Dana was generating a crowd of disbelief.

I rarely sat in my cubicle the rest of the day. Everyone was roaming around restlessly as the news slowly trickled in. When new headlines appeared online, people would shout them out loud. The large boardroom became the sole place to view the live footage on TV, but it was mainly occupied by Vice Presidents. I was just a lowly Web Designer that had been at the company for just over a year, so I stayed away from their lair of media.

At lunch, I went with the fellas to Soprano’s Deli and sat outside in the gorgeous 72 degree day, eating pristine gourmet Italian sandwiches, chatting with the Italian waitress as usual, but all with a dazed wonderment. We gazed at the sky that was usually filled with planes and jet streams and saw nothing but blue.

My parents were somewhere flying across the Atlantic Ocean from Spain, heading back to Philadelphia from vacation. I had been dog-sitting for the past ten days at their new condo in Media, PA. I was enjoying the short commute to Newtown Square, PA, and an escape from Manayunk where I lived with two friends. After work, I spent most of the time hanging with Bridget, a short haired Border Collie, or recording music on a 4-track cassette recorder, such as this instrumental:

I eventually got a hold of my parents. They had to make a u-turn over the Atlantic and head back to Spain. While flying they were notified that America was attacked, but had received no initial details. Eventually, a stewardess presented a fax to people questioning what was going on. My Dad said he was enraged and wanted to sing the Battle Hymn Of The Republic, while my Mom was primarily tearing up and in wondering where Shanksville, PA was and if it was close to anyone she knew.

When I got home, I really just wanted to watch the news and find out more about what had happened. I had a date lined up with a girl, Eliza, that I had met on Match.com. It was the first girl that I had met through online dating and this was to be our second date. She was from Argentina and loved to spend money on high fashion, jewelry, and perfume. Why she dug me, I had no clue.

We had tickets to go see her favorite band, Ben Folds, at the Theatre Of Living Arts on South Street. I was hoping she would want to cancel, or that Ben Folds would cancel, but no dice. I didn’t even care for the music of Ben Folds, and couldn’t name one of his songs. The show goes on.

I met Eliza at a coffee shop. She was giddy and jumping up and down. She was the same age as me, 27, but I soon felt fifteen years older than her. She spoke of the day’s terror as if it was intestinal flu, a national inconvenience at best, and she was hardly jaded. I felt like anything dealing with art, music, and words of fiction were to be put on hiatus.

Ben Folds made a slight mention to the strange events of the day and soon the crowd started singing Happy Birthday. I had no idea what was going on, but it was Ben’s birthday as well and the fans that loved him so much wouldn’t let him sing another song without paying tribute.

After the show, Eliza insisted we wait for Ben Folds and his band to pack up and embrace the band as they entered their tour bus. At the TLA, there was only one way in and one way out for bands and fans alike. Two hours after the show, I shook hands with Ben Folds and took a photo of Eliza hip hugging Ben. He smiled through his exhaustion, and that was the last time I saw Eliza again.

I spent the rest of the week recording music, watching CNN, and wondering what neighborhood my parents would move to next. Their condo had strange rules and my Dad couldn’t hang his American flag out front. There was a nice path to walk Bridget, but that’s about all the community had going for it. They wanted to move on and find a new home.

A few days later I received a postcard from Spain with my Dad’s enormous handwriting that simply stated “See you when I see you”.

We then all headed to Union Jacks Inn On The Manatawny where they were out of catfish, so I settled on a burger. Got my first taste of sunburn sitting on the outside patio, but nothing too bad.

We then roamed around the town of Topton, got some ice cream, and went to check out some yard sales, but it was a bit too late…but not too late to get kind’ve lost in Topton.

Of all things, we then played Yahtzee, a game I haven’t played since I was in grade school, but it was easy to pick back up again.

Wayne & Jen’s home was looking fine, and made for a very relaxing movie night where we watched Adventureland and reminisced old carnivals of the past.

The next day, Melissa I headed straight to Glenside for Gavin’s 4th birthday party. Things were going smooth until he busted his lip open while running back and forth and checking out gifts. Had some nice talks with Ray’s grandfather about his time spent in WWII and all the countries he had been too. Glenside is a place we may move to someday, but who the hell knows at this point. The contrast of subdued Glenside with the often insane yet exciting Fishtown are enormous.

We wanted to sleep in the next day, of course, but we were on a tour de force mission and woke up early to head to Springfield, PA to watch my Dad in the solemn Memorial Day Parade. The day was muggy, but we were lucky to find shade to stand in for the duration of it, although Melissa had a bird shit on her thigh at one point.

Next, we proceeded to my parents pad and hung out with my Uncle Steve from California, and his vivacious wife, Margie. I hadn’t seen them in years, as most of my uncles are spread out across the U.S.

Finally, we got home and watched The King’s Speech. It’s just one of those things that I had to do, as I was tired of hearing about it, and it did look somewhat good based on the clips that I had seen. It wasn’t an Avatar shit storm. It was quality.

Melissa made one of her semi-healthy cakes that are low in fat, yet somehow get covered in icing with a cream cheese base. Here she is sampling it.

This is a photo of Melissa and Jenn. It wasn’t Memorial Day Weekend. This was during the Trenton Avenue Arts Festival, but I’m just throwing it in here.

As I look out our window, I see a bloated drowned cat floating in a four foot above-ground pool filled with brown water. His white fur has turned green. I see multiple dark gray DirecTV receivers, like plastic mushrooms, on rooftops. I see a house with boarded up windows … a large pinwheel spinning with a tropical parrot theme, flapping violently in the wind.

Uh…No, this image is not what it looks like. Would be nice someday though.

I see a large grassy vacant lawn strewn with plastic bottles, processed food wrappers, and paper bags … I see cars parked on sidewalks, making pedestrians have to walk in the street to get by …

Then there’s a jet stream headed towards Philadelphia International Airport, roaring loudly as it gets closer, but then muffled out by the engine of a chintzy homemade motorized scooter, as some kid without a helmet circles our blocks incessantly. I hear the sound of firecrackers, the ice cream truck making its rounds, and I see plants and flowers Melissa had planted in years past starting to bloom again.

I created a GMAIL account and had Sebastian contact me in the hopes of discussing a new web site for Front & Palmer (a site I personally thought needed a boost anyway). Located in Fishtown near our house, Front & Palmer would be a dream client for me. Through a series of GMAIL conversations, I had Sebastian find out that Melissa was a photographer, and that if he needed some professional photos taken, she would be perfect.

Of course, Sebastian was not so responsive. He was a typical busy yet ultra savvy marketing genius that barely had time to email back. But when he expressed interest in Melissa as well, I soon was on the way to setting up the meeting of 7:15 pm, Saturday, July 3rd at Top Hat.

Turns out that Sebastian’s office was located in Old City, and we made sketchy plans to meeting him “sometime at the end of June”. As the end of June approached, Sebastian turned festive and wanted us to meet him for a drink instead. I figured Gigi Lounge, right next to Top Hat, would be ideal. We had a few date changes, but July 3rd got nailed down.

On meeting day / surprise party day, Melissa insisted we walk from Fishtown to Old City. I thought this was odd, since it was so hot, but I made sure we had plenty of time. We decided to cut through the Piazza in Northern Liberties, but a massive concert event slowed us down immensely, and we had to jog around a lot of crowds.

In Old City, amazingly, I realized that we had gotten there too early. Melissa’s friends were still inside Top Hat setting up decorations. So, I faked a semi nervous breakdown and sat on a bench a block away, saying that I needed to get a breather. Finally, I was able to text my buddy Rich the words “5 min” and we headed to Top Hat.

I had explained to Melissa that we weren’t going to Gigi Lounge anymore, and that Sebastian had changed the destination to some other place near Gigi, but I couldn’t remember which one. I walked up the steps of Top Hat and Melissa reluctantly followed. She questioned if we were at the right place. I don’t know, I said. She seemed really agitated with me at this point and I eventually got her to the top doorway where she was afraid to walk through. With both hands at her back, I pushed her in.

Paulette, Melissa, and Allyson

Jonathan of Slingluff Gallery and my Dad.

Dave, Brandi, Alison, Jen, and Jenn

Marc, Brian, and Missy

View more photos!

Monday

Headed to the Quality Hotel in South Philly near the airport and watched the Cardinals vs. Cubs in hotel bar. I had a gross calamari with a beer. Melissa had a spaghetti platter…We soon went to bed and woke up at 4:15 a.m. to…

Tuesday

…take a shuttle to the airport. I had an egg & cheese sandwich at Basset’s Turkey and Melissa had oatmeal. We waited a while for our flight. I read Thomas Paine and the latest GOOD Magazine.

We landed in Charlotte, NC, which was a beautiful airport…Loads of places to eat…We settled on some joint that specialized in bagels. I had a pizza bagel. Melissa had some veggie jawn.

Our second flight landed in Aruba around 3:30 p.m. While looking for our luggage, we realized that a lot of the passengers were honeymooners as well.

A shuttle took us to our hotel, the Occidental Grand, after a loudspeaker overview of Aruba. The wind was warm and strong.

Checking in to the hotel took a bit. A bunch of honeymooners in front of us. The hotel features 4 restaurants and 1 all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant. We were told that we had to book our restaurants ahead of time, so we booked them right away…after another wait…Then we spent some time with some time-share dude…He kept kissing our ass and asking us how we stayed so young and vibrant looking.

After checking into our room, we had dinner at the buffet restaurant. As an all-inclusive, we weren’t used to not tipping at all. We then checked out the beach at sunset and roamed around the hotel. A band was playing Bob Marley songs in the casino. You basically could buy drinks from any of the hotel bars and walk around with it anywhere. Amazing. We walked into the middle of a comedic production at the theatre, and decided to check out the disco instead. But it was early, and we were told there was just a man and his buddies in there, one of which was stuck in an elevator for an hour because he didn’t know how to get off.

We decided to break away from the resort. Across the street were loads of resaturants: Hoooters, Soprano’s Piano Bar, Hard Rock Cafe, Rembrantds’s, some Thai joint — loads…We ended up eating at an outside Japanese bar and ate tempura and rice in a suddenly heavy wind. I drank some kind’ve “orgasmic” girly drink and we watched a rock concert by some band that looked like Metallica but sang reggae-tinged songs in Spanish and had a massive cult following.

Wednesday

Slept 10 hours. Haven’t done that in a while….Went to the buffet for lunch and then went to the beach and laid in rafts. The water was turquoise. No shells. Not much algae at all. No waves, at least on the resort side of the island. Very relaxing. We then sunbathed with pina coladas and then went to the pool to float about and drink Balashi from the pool bar, along with Jack & Cokes and some other weird stuff…We met 3 other cool couples as well and just enjoyed an afternoon of soaking up rays and relaxing…I realized of the Cliff Lee Phillies trade…

Had dinner at the Asian restaurant attached to the Occidental and pigged out with some couple from Delaware for some sushi, entrees and dessert, more chardonnay…The dude talked about his life way too much and we realized how much a blind date with a couple can be irritating, but he led me to find out that Jim Johnson died…We then found ourselves in bed watching MTV the Real World Cancun, which was awful, so we jetted out to the beach to sit under the moonlight while 2 distant karaoke bars competed for our ears’ attention.

Thursday

Breakfast buffet…Booked massages at the Larimar Spa next door. A girl noticed my Utley shirt and then waved her husband over. Yet another honeymooning couple, this time from Northeast Philly…Melissa and I then checked out the shops along the street and bought some gifts for our parents…We then had the lunch buffet and sunbathed poolside in one of those king sized beds with drapes and an overhead…

We then plunged into the pool for more pina coladas and Balashi, the sole beer brewed in Aurba…as well as a dip into the heated jacuzzi…Saw that David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez were two of the 100 tested positive for steroids in 2003 or 2004. Forget which year. They play ESPN at the pool bar and CNN in the lobby…Not reading or watching news from TV or internet creates a big gap in your mind when you’re used to constant nuggets of political banter…

Been doing well with the sun, as I usually burn up like crazy, but I keep applying 30,SPF every 90 minutes that I’m outside. Maybe there is Zebra cum in it, as Lewis Black suggests…

Took a bus to the Flying Fishbone, about 15 miles away. But the bus didn’t take us that far, so we got out at the capital of Orejnestad and took a cab to the restaurant. It was rush hour, so the cabbie took us on a shortcut route through some backroads where we thought maybe we’d be killed, but it was all good. We ended up sitting at a table in the water, with the small waves crashing at our ankles. I ate red snapper and chocolate mousse and we watched the sunset and joked around with another couple from NY. We were treated to a honeymoon dessert with sparklers and praise…

Took a cab back to the resort where we chilled at an outdoor beach party that seemed aimed for children primarily, due to the the goofy host and kids songs. But we drank up some Balashis with a cool couple from San Fran that we got along with…It seemed everywhere we went, we were meeting honeymooners…The wealthy families on big family trips kept their distance.

Friday

Breakfast buffet and then checked out the computer lab which had a really slow connection, but we were able to check out our professional wedding photos.

Sunbathed on the beach and waded in the ocean for a while. I’m not sure what happened after that, but I believe we were quickly back at the buffet for lunch…then off to a Jolly Pirates sunset cruise up to the north part of the island. The crew kept giving us “Pirates Poison”, some potent crazy red drink…We then dropped anchor for people to use the swing and jump into the water. I just chilled out and relaxed, although Melissa gave me a hard time for not jumping in. But I was just happy to not be vomiting on a boat like the last time that I was on one…

Dinner buffet and soon came to the conclusion that we couldn’t do anything this night aside from play gin-rummy in the hotel room, but we had forgotten our deck of cards…The plates of food that we’ve been making are ridiculous. One of my dinner plates went something like this: 1 chicken taco, 1 mini pizza slice, 2 slabs of cantaloupe, a fist full of cornchips topped with guac, 2 portions of mahi mahi, 1 big chicken tender sliver, 1 cookie — all squished together…The coffee was awful though, at least for us coffee snobs. It was probably Maxwell House or Folgers.

Saturday

Breakfast buffet…Ran into the San Fran couple again and he gave me the rest of his internet hours…We then lounged around the pool again…I got a slight burn on my shoulders the previous day, but nothing too bad…Balashi beers…We then went to the Larimar Spa which was attached to the neighboring Radisson. Gorgeous facilities and outdoor lounge, a mini pool to cool off, sauna, massive shower — very nice men’s lounge. Melissa and I had an 80 minutes couples massage in the same room. I had a very nice Swedish Massage and she had the Arubian special…

Next, chilled in the lounge with lemon water and watched a baby iquana peck at a half-eaten apple that some lady had just left there….We then roamed about and strangely decided to get a big ball of gouda cheese and some Wheat Thins….We ate almost all of it while laying in bed and watching Comedy Central…

We then walked around some more shops and then went to eat at the in-house Italian restaurant….I had the Grouper Filet and Melissa had some linguine entree. The food was kickass, but they had me sitting and facing hte corner…WTF?…Still I decided to tip this waiter, the first dude to get a nice Abe Lincoln out of me in this all-inclusive…

So, we then went downstairs to a show at the theate for some “Latin Explosion” thing where I didn’t understand what the hell they were saying but the dancers were dressed kind’ve like Mummers and gave me a reason to hoot and holler…

Next, we went to the Soprano’s Piano Bar and the singer made fun of my hat but then asked to wear it, since it resembled a Michael Jackson hat or something, and we enjoyed many sing-out-loud songs….I then forced Melissa to go to Burger King and I ate a Whopper Jr. while she watched me…But it was worth it because we then went to our resort’s casino…I gave Melissa $2 and she won $320 on two cranks of the slots! We cashed in and called it a night.

Sunday

We woke up early and got the breakfast buffet and then met with the Kinikini ATV tour dude in the lobby. His name was Tony, an native Aruban, and he took our sleepy heads to his ATV headquarters. No one else had signed up for the early 9:00 a.m. tour, so it was just Melissa, Tony, and I .

We put our helmets on, hopped on the red ATV, and followed Tony down Aruban streets on our long 5 hour tour. I was driving and Melissa sat at the back and held my waist. We went from asphalt roads to dirt roads quite quickly, and then to gravelly stone roads.

Our first stop was the oldest chapel in Aruban which featured an outdoor stations of the cross, each station a good 30 yards from each other. The chapel was located at the north end of the island, and it only sat 30 people comfortabably. Tony went in to kneel and pray for a bit. I followed and did the same. I realized I had not prayed in years…

The ATV tour led down several cactus lined dirt roads and beach side pathways…We saw an art sanctuary that was set up by artists that converted washed-ashore plastic, old boat parts, signage, dolls, you name it….anything washed ashore turned into bizarre sculptures…

Another stop was the an old gold mining storage building…Another stop was a natural bridge where waves washed ashore underneath…Another was a giant boulder formation that resembled elephants…

Finally we headed to our final destination: the natural pool of Conshi. The path to Conshi was treachorous, but seemed easy for the ATV to handle. We had no problems, even when there was no paths to traverse….But close to the entrance of the pool we hit a major snag — I’m not even sure what happened, it happened so fast. But, Melissa and I were thrown from the ATVs…I flew through the air and landed on my right arm. The the ATV rolled onto my waist, but I quickly slithered from underneath it.

My right forearm was really scraped up. My hands had been banged up and cut as well, bruises on my ass and chest….I kept reaching over my body and making sure I wasn’t bleeding anywhere else. I had landed on my arm, and my shoulder was really sore. Melissa leaped up and came questioning if I was OK. We were in a daze, confused. She sat down and realized that her scraped knee was hurting really bed, as well as acquiring painful bruises on her side. Tony eventually turned around and was baffled. We had no answers, but were just trying to figure out our pain.

Back on the ATV, that was now leaking oil, we headed about 200 more yards to the staircase to the natural pool. Melissa and I hobbled down through the stony makeshift staircase in agony, but trying to make light of the situation…I kept thinking how lucky we were to be alive, to not have a broken arm or finger, or even a gash to the head…Very, very fortunate…

We eventually clamored into the natural pool that was surrounded by black crabs of some sort. Most were small, but I saw some big ass ones that had me concerned. We really didn’t enjoy the natural pool due to our aches, but it was amazing to see the massive waves crash over the walls and splash us all. The day before, the waves were so powerful that they refused people from entering the pool…

The journey back on the ATVs was a bit scary…I just didn’t want to crash again…Although I was extra careful, I was so mad yet grateful that we didn’t get any more hurt than we were…The Aruban elections held parades on Sunday and we had to deal with heavy traffic on the ATVs for the way home. Tony took us on some shortcuts through all of the yellow flags and stern faces…

Back at the hotel, Melissa realized that her right knee had swollen up a LOT and that she had to limp a bit to walk. After some disinfectant on our abrasions and some bandages, we eventually headed to the lunch buffet, napped, and then dinner at the in-house Caribbean restaurant. My shoulder was quite banged up and hurt more than my fucked up arm…

At the lobby bar, we sulked and kind’ve laughed and had a couple beers with a couple from Queens, talking sports. We then headed to the karaoke going on at the lounge area that we hadn’t been to yet. We had beers and wine and I sang “Proud Mary” by CCR and Melissa managed her way through some song called “Brandi”. I made a shout out to the Phillies “Jimmy Rollins down the river” and the couple sitting next to Melissa picked up on it. Turns out they lived in Springfield, PA, my parents hoods. Crazy small world.

Monday

Tough sleeping last night. Really sore. Melissa and I made our way to the breakfast buffet, but Melissa couldn’t walk at her normal pace. Her knee was very swollen and a bruise on her side and increased about 5 times its original size. It looked awful!

We decided to just chill at the pool, take in some sun and basically call it a day, aside from a couple trips to some area shops. I personally hadn’t been this banged up since I sprained by ankle back in the year 2000. At an outdoor Belgian cafe, the waitress saw my arm and asked, “Did you ride the ATVs?” I laughed and she went on to say how she could just tell based on her friend’s wipeout injury, and apparently it happens to many on the island.

We are about to head out to dinner at the in-house Mexican joint, have a night of lounging and then checking out tomorrow at noon. The free food & grub will then end and we’ll take the shuttle to the airport. Gladly, I’ll be happy to stop re-applying 35 SPF sunscreen 3 times a day.

The 12′ tall wall was reduced to 6′ tall…We got rid of the grass and replaced it with mulch…We’ve sprayed garlic mosquito repellant…

Melissa has pretty much been the mad gardener out back and she often goes out to clip some basil for our meals. We’re really hoping the Topsy Turvy works!

My Dad, centered, kicked off the very beginning of the parade with the American Legion.

Springfield, PA is very Republican. These guys threw out free Republican Party koozies for all of your beverage needs.

I recently checked out “Tooch” on UrbanDictionary.com and was amazed to see how un-urban I am in knowing the many facets of the word “Tooch”.

Here are a few meanings:

• A computer whiz who is proficient at many things, ranging from physical feats back to other various mentally stimulating activities. aka a renaisance man.
• Another word for cooch, vagina, pussy, cunt, twat, snatch or other words for the female genetals.
• A kick ass percussionist and vocalist who is a necessity in any experimental pop band.

Although Steph is just 1 year and 16 days older than me, I clearly look the oldest!

Mmmmmm…cake!