Tales from New York City

Early Morning Sunrise over Long Island Sound taken from Greenwich Point, CT

We're back home! On Tuesday we made the decision to head home. Leaving our digs at the Country Club which had become like a home away from home, we swung into Greenwich, finalized a few things, picked up our trucks and drove north. It felt right. So now, hopefully, we are back on track to leave for Honduras mid January.

We had a good time this past month. All of us came down with colds, but other than that we had a lot of fun. As my friend Bob Beckett once told me, it's all about the stories. And man, does my crew turn out the stories. Some I can tell here and some I can't. Some you just had to be there. I'm convinced that my crew has enough real life characters with real life events to make our own reality TV show that would easily compete against Ice Road Truckers or Swamp People.

Left to right. John Lee, John Paul and Mark

For instance, in the picture to the left is John Paul "JP" Grignon with his son John Lee. JP and John Lee are driving through Queens, NY when John Lee hollers he needs to go to the bathroom, "NOW". JP is following the bucket truck who in turn is following the Parks and Recs guy and has no clue where they're headed and doesn't want to lose them. So John Lee jumps out of the truck at a red light, climbs into the open top container on the back of the truck and begins trying to pass a kidney stone as JP continues driving through the streets of Queens! At every light JP hollers back asking if he's okay and ready to get back in. JP is half deaf and John Lee keeps yelling over the roar of the Detroit engine, "Keep going, I'm okay. Just passin' a kidney stone" all the while doubled over in pain. Now who'd a' thunk that one up?

Justin, Mark and Jon

On Thanksgiving Day the four of us, Jon, Justin, Mark and myself, drove into Manhattan. We drove by the yard where JP and Rickey parked their trucks. For some reason we decided to "decorate" JP"s truck with cones. The next day JP came home and told us he was sure another contractor, Randy Ball, had put cones all over his truck. He'd walked up to him and in no uncertain terms told him "don't mess with my truck". I asked him if he was sure it was Randy and he said, "Yes, 'cause Randy just smirked". It was all the four of us could do not to smirk! I had to keep JP from greasing Randy's door handles in retaliation! We never told JP until 2 weeks later when he finally opened his email and found this picture.

Steve with the saw, Rickey on the loader, Mark far left.

And then there's Rickey Hall, Fat Man Trucking and his stalwart ground man Steve Masterman. We call the bucket (to the left of Steve) "Pac Man". When Rickey's got it down on the ground picking up debris it looks just like the old arcade game pac man. Munch, munch, munch. There are too many stories I could tell about these guys, but here's one that you probably need to be there for. Mainly because of the accents. Mainers have a very distinct accent. We drop "Rs" where they should be and put them in where they shouldn't. I probably don't need to explain the New York accent if you've watched any TV at all. So, we walk into this pizza joint. It's busy. The guy behind the counter has orders, pizzas and dough flying every which way.

There are beautiful gourmet pizzas lined up in all directions. I can't make up my mind. Throwing his hands in the air the guy yells at me in a very strong New York accent and tone, "Come back when ya' know what ya' want. You're holdin' up the line." Steve steps up, "I want a loaded pizza". (pronounced peet-sir). The guy, "Ya' wanna' a slice or a pie?" (with waving hands and arms) Steve, "I want a loaded peet-sir." The guy, "Ya' wanna' a slice or a pie?" (with waving hands and arms) Steve, "No, I want a loaded peet-sir." The guy throws up his hands, gives Steve a slice of plain cheese pizza on New York crust, the thinnest in the world. Steve rolls his eyes, takes the cheese pizza slice and walks away. Ya' wanna' a slice or a pie!

El Salvadorian Deli

The food in New York is memorable. I was going to devote an entire blog just to the food we ate. The El Salvadorian owned deli ,where you could heap your plate so high the girl behind the counter could hardly carry, it all for $7 a plate...at first. Later on after several visits the owner began to slowly increase the charge when he saw us coming. Guess he thought he was starting to lose money on us.

The bagels...ohhhhh. There's nothing like a New York bagel!

The Eastern European owned bakery (right) in Maspeth that opens at 5 am, just in time for us to load up on delicious coffee and pastries. And then there was Rickey. He is an awesome cook. (Sorry Rickey, I lost the photo of you cooking spaghetti) I told him I'd back him 10% if he wanted to open a restaurant in Wilton. We all decided that he'd probably act a bit like the guy in the pizza parlor. "Ya' get what I fix ya'. Ya' don' like it, ya' don eat heyah." No, no Rickey, we love it.

I know we all gained weight down there.

So many memories. My good looking nephew, Justin, creating a traffic jam because all the women driving by wanted to stop and "chat". Mark, struggling with the weight of the world on his shoulders (below). Don't shrug, Mark. The sun setting over the Statue of Liberty. All the people we met.  Bob Hewett, project manager for Ashbritt, excited about the possibility of him and his wife coming to work a week or two with us in Honduras.

Even still, it's very good to be back home. Last night we spent the evening with two couples, good friends of ours, discussing plans for them to come to Honduras as families and give us a hand. Each of them bring their own gifts and talents. Music, sports, business, education. More friends are coming over tonight. Their son is interested in coming down as an intern.

I'M EXCITED TO SEE WHAT IS AHEAD FOR US!



Mark with the Unisphere (700,000 lbs of stainless steel) in the background, 1964 World's Fair