Derby Day

LIAM NOT WEARING A DERBY FOR THE DERBY

I have always loved horse-racing.  Started watching with my father, Charlie, at a young age. We would all gather around the TV and place our bets.  I knew all the famous horses from a board game I had. For the newbies who might never have played a board game- board games are those on which you move pieces around after you shake some die. You want to get a high number so your piece moves ahead. My horse in the game was "Native Dancer"  I have just looked him up and found we were born the same year.  I don't think I knew that at the time.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Native_Dancer 

I remember we bet our allowances.  If we lost, Charlie would keep the money. His parenting wisdom was that you never let a child win just to be nice.  The lesson is learned in losing.  My father won a lot. I learned a lot about being a loser.

I have been to the tracks in NYC many times but never to the Kentucky Derby.

Horses

Hats

Bets

Mint Juleps

The Derby is a week after the royal wedding. Our chance to show even crazier hats than we saw last weekend.  Also a shot at making a mint julep.  We tried mint juleps one year but somehow we could not get it right and ended up with mint leaves, sugar and what tasted like rubbing alcohol..  So we do not make them. Paul has a Sam Adams and I have a red wine

MINT JULEP NOT

and Liam his hat. Here are some hats if you missed the race.
http://www.thepostgame.com/lifestyle/201105/kentucky-derby-hats

I pick a horse based on a mixed scientific and whimsical study.   This year it was Master of Hounds. Whimsical part-Liam is one quarter dachshund.  And one quarter beagle. So half a hound.  Liam is a rescue from Tennessee.  Right next door to Kentucky, home of the Derby.
Then you have the Irish connection. The horse is from Ireland.
Scientific part-Master of Hounds has a good trainer, fine parents (genes) and a promising racing record. The horse runs around Ireland, up and down those hills. Here is a bit about our horse
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/wire?section=horse&id=6476279

We watch the pre-race. Master of Hounds is never profiled.  They have a woman jockey.  A heart transplant trainer.  Colorful jockey Calvin Borel.  A replacement rider for an injured jockey. Even Uncle Mo, scratched, gets more press than M of H.  All these make for good human interest stories. So no press for our horse. Then on the march to the track, our horse is not in the group. He is number 11. We get to number 10, then the next horse is number 12.  Where is he?  Was he lowered in by helicopter?

During the race, he is NEVER mentioned. Is he in the race?  Turns out yes, Finished fifth.  Some of the high profile horses finish behind.  Not a mention.  Not a picture. 
Fifth is excellent-there are 19 horses.

But out of the money and never in the top three.  That is okay. We are sticking with the Hound.  In two weeks, The Preakness-Aroooooooooooooooooo

OFF WITH OUR HATS, NO HAT NEEDED FOR THE PREAKNESS

Woof, woof

Safe Secrets

LIAM WITH ONE OF HIS VALUABLES

I had applied for and bought a safety deposit box for valuables.  This was in April 1977; I was 26 years old.
I wonder what was valuable to my younger self? I had not seen the box in 34 years, yet every year in March we get a bill,  pay it and never visit it.  This year when I saw the bill I decided it was time to open this treasure box.  Over the years, I had paid a cumulative total of over 3000 dollars for the privilege of having Chase protect my valuables. I hoped it had my Social Security card and maybe my hospital birth certificate.  The NYC Birth certificates (ones with the raised seal) are so easy to get that it sure would not be worth renting a box for that.

At 26, I had no house-no deed, no marriage, no life insurance (still do not), no will (still do not), no bonds (had cashed them in immediately with no net gain), What the heck was in this box?

Liam keeps his valuables in one area.   So brave, just out there for all to see.

LIAM'S TREASURES

I had a key that I thought was the key to the box.   It was big and on a key-chain that I stored away in a sort of jewelry box.  It looked like the key to a jail cell or a castle, so that had to be it. This giant key had traveled  from two  Fresh Meadows apartments to our current home in New Hyde Park.

I set out on  my mission, taking side streets all the way to Fresh Meadows, enjoying the old and new additions to the neighborhood.  I parked, entered the bank.  There was no sign for what I needed, so I waited within the velvet ropes with the other customers. When I arrived at the teller's window, I explained that I wanted to look at my safety deposit box.   I think she had expected a routine transaction and seemed a little startled.   But she shut down her window and emerged at the end of teller's row waving me to follow her.  Together we went into a room with hundreds of boxes.   She asked for the box number and I said I had no memory of it.  She looked it up-435, sounded sort of familiar but I never would have come up with that combination of numbers. I was amazed that my signature at 26 was almost the same as it is today at 60 (when I try to be neat, that is)

And then I was shown to a little booth and left alone. My excitement level was high. Treasures of youth to be excavated.  I opened the box.  Three items. I really could not believe my eyes.  Seriously, I was stunned.  These items are what I have paid several thousand dollars to keep safe for over three decades!

Ready for the big Secret of the Safety Deposit box  (I loved Nancy Drew novels as a child)

1-NYC raised seal birth certificate.   Difficulty in obtaining one- none.  Worth secreting away.  laughable.
2- Receipt for Medeco lock for my apartment in Fresh Meadows.  That would be 3 addresses removed from
 my current home and 34 years of time.  Did I think someone was going to ask for proof of payment?
3-Photocopy of a poem written for and about me by a long ago poet friend   Not signed, not handwritten, not the original.  On a typewriter.  No computers in 1977.

I came out of my closet booth with these valuable documents.  I told the teller I was closing down my safety deposit box.  No point in keeping a safety deposit box here.  I no longer live in Fresh Meadows.
Undoing my long relationship with my safety deposit box proved complicated and labor intensive. I was escorted to the sitting area for a personal consult.  When I admitted under questioning that I had only one key, not the two I had been given years ago, I then was taken to the manager. We are now a group of three. I tell all how I have been paying a fee to hide three items no one would steal.  No one thinks this is funny except me. A  fourth and fifth person are now called over. Two witnesses must be present-one for the handing over of the key to  my safety deposit box and the other must write a receipt for the money I owe for the missing key.
And it is done. The ties broken.  I am free.

I threw away the Medeco receipt. 
I put my birth certificate with the other common NYC ones.
I have the poem out by the PC. I intend to type it into word and save it in  my online safe deposit box, entitled Documents.

Do I intend to get another safety deposit box here in New Hyde Park?  Yes. 
I have Googled "what do you put in a safety deposit box?" and have been collecting a group of worthy items.

Liam has been watching, he is now concerned about his treasures.

LOOKING FOR A HIDING PLACE

However, today's NY Times has an  article about a trend away from safety deposit boxes towards home safes in the form of furniture, hollowed out books, fake soup cans, heads of lettuce (iceberg I hope, useless for salads).
See link.  http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/05/garden/05safes.html?_r=1&ref=todayspaper

Folks now want their treasures close to home.  Easy to access. 
Liam keeps looking for a spot in the house.

BEHIND THE COUCH?

Liam thinks he knows what to do.  He has his toys in one place ready for transport.
He has watched a commercial on TV for Travelers Insurance. In it, the dog finds a safe place for his beloved bone.  Liam thinks we should both go to Travelers.  Important treasures must be guarded and kept safe.   And easily accessible.

He has more treasures than I do right now.   
My grown-up person safety deposit box will have some important documents but it also might have the whimsy of a poem just like Liam's bone.

Doesn't have to be legal to be a treasure.

LIAM UNDER TREASURED PAINTING

I will get that safety deposit box.  

I will also use my hollowed-out book and pretty container boxes.  

No home safe though.  

Hide in plain sight.

Woof, Woof

Name Change Not

THE ART OF CATCHING THE KONG MIDAIR

From Carol
Two weeks ago we wrote about a name change for our blog.  Liam wrote about it because I was emoting.  Now some time has passed, readers have spoken with support and understanding for whatever course we take. We have received many very witty fun suggestions for a new name, yet all (including those with suggestions) are in favor of keeping LiamLicks. 
Two other events happened that sealed the decision to hold fast.

One is a court case about "feel your boobies"   see link for info if you have not heard about it. The word boobie on the bracelet is the issue.  I am not sure I agree that young kids should be wearing boobie bracelets, but I needed the analogy for this story.
http://boston.cbslocal.com/2011/04/12/north-attleboro-teen-hopeful-after-boobies-bracelet-ruling/

Another was the opening of a play in NYC with a title no one was allowed to print or say aloud on TV due to possible personal offense as well as legal ramifications.  It went forward anyway.   And the title stands.
http://theater.nytimes.com/2011/04/12/theater/reviews/the-with-the-hat-by-stephen-adly-guirgis-review.html?ref=theater

The reviewer of the play wrote, "the title is really the right one" 
LiamLicks is really the right one for our blog.  We will stick with it.
From Liam--
We read a book this month  "The Art of Racing in The Rain" by Garth Stein http://www.garthstein.com/   Garth Stein is a special man.  He knows dogs know things.

I am present when Carol reads so I absorb as much as I can.  The book is told from the point of view of the dog, Enzo. Here is a video clip.
We got so much from this special book about living life with courage and not giving up.  As a result, we are not giving up our name.  Enzo told his story, I will continue to tell mine in LiamLicks.  An added bonus is that Carol now believes I will come back as a man.  Why she likes this, I do not know.
But I try to hold her gaze with my big brown eyes as long as I can to make her believe I am very deep and profound in my feelings.

LIAM AFTER READING THE NY TIMES

Woof, Woof

Name Change

LIAM LOOKS

What is in a name?  So much more than ever before. Your name is everywhere, Just Google it and you will see.  This is Liam talking.  I am a dog. I have not googled because my paws are not made for it.  I  have a blog.   Our blog is entitled LiamLicks.  It came about because I was a licking pup.  I still show my affection with a lick here and there. In fact, my tongue gets a workout licking lattes and lotions on hands and the like.  Really, I never stopped licking.  According to my mother Carol, the alliteration of LL was part of the cuteness in the name -no apostrophes also a plus. You read it and the meaning is there.

I do not know some things as I am just a dog, so some of what I am telling you is coming directly from  Carol.  I also know some stuff because I have been listening and sitting by her as she types LiamLicks.
Something new happened last week when we published.  I will tell you about it.

Thursday is publishing day. The excitement builds all day as we ready our story.

It goes this way. When the story is done-edited, proofed, previewed, spellchecked, all that, Carol pushes the button to publish our blog story on Blogger. Of course, hours of work go into it before but that is not this story. This story is about what happened when we published last Thursday.

I am always summoned to sit by the computer when the button to publish is pushed.  It is my blog.  I am told that my presence lends credence.  I like feeling so important. The button is pushed. There is always a moment of anxiety because we are always afraid a computer glitch will cause a problem. But last week it was smooth. Our blog is successfully published.  

Woof, woof!

The blog offers options. One is called "Share." Since I am an "only" dog and well as only a dog,  I do not know much about "Share" but it seems something that Carol wants to do with LiamLicks. The blog offers sites with who to share- FB and Twitter are our favorites. We always do both.   We are Leos and love a big audience.

We tweet our link to Twitter successfully.  It is disturbing for a dog to tweet but barking is not offered, so I go with the program.  Tweet, tweet.  I pretend to myself that we barked it to Twitter. Then Carol pushes "Share" to  FB.  A response comes back. She gasps.  I know this is not good.  I hate when she is upset.  The message says, "this link has been tagged for abuse cannot be published to FB."  Abuse!  LiamLicks!  How can this be?  Who did this to us?  A FB friend?  Carol feels so sad that someone would do this.  I want to tell her it is just a machine saying this, not a friend.   It does not understand LiamLicks  Stupid machine.  Anyway, I lick and nudge Carol to remind her that our readers have not yet received the weekly email  and we must send it.  We do. 

LIAM LUNGING

I am just a dog but I have come to understand that words have different connotations and that possibly LiamLicks could lead the computer to think bad thoughts or maybe think it is something else.  Anyway.  We explain to FB.  They are reviewing their ban of our link-lick. I do not think the review will change anything. The machine was very cold in its message.  Carol spoke aloud so I could hear.

LIAM LEVITATES

LIAM LAUGHING

This got me thinking. I am now 3 and one half years old.  Maybe it is time to come up with a new title. LiamLicks was a puppy title. If my link is flagged then perhaps a preemptive move is in order.  Drastic?  We have received a few inquiries from unsavory folks thinking I am not just an innocent dog. They are looking to meet up. Meet up?  Do What? A playdate?   I am ready. Let's play. Not the play date I am thinking of- Something I do not understand.
Carol always deletes these solicitations before I see them.  Changing our name might be just the  answer
We have many ideas but will be careful to be safe and cautious so as not to offend anyone. BTW, in my dog mind, Carol is my Mommy and will always be, but as a grown up dog I refer to her as Carol for blog language.


Some ideas
Liam Tails -might be the same problem as LiamLicks, is a tail a euphemism for another thing in someone's world?
LiamLore- is lore too fancy?
Liam Leaps- that is true, but every week?
Liam's Life- no, the appalling apostrophe!
Life with Liam- there are other stories, not all are about Liam
Life of Liam- possible lawsuit by Monty Python
LiamLoves oh no, too suggestive again
LiamLooks -at what?
LiamLikes -oh, down the salacious road again
LiamListens- hears
LiamLunges -sounds too fierce
LiamLaughing-smile maybe
LiamLevitates- not true, the ball does
Of Life and Liam
and more.............

LIAM'S LARDER

That is the story as I know it.  I watched Carol go through a gamut of emotions. She thought a FB friend had tagged us, a friend of a friend .............

disbelief

betrayed

hurt

sad

angry

injustice

cyberbullied

then

red wine

Carol was told that it might be a computer software program that flags links with certain words and links with licks are a prime target.  I tried to convince her that no one would hurt LiamLicks. 

Humans are so complicated. I don't get all this. I just know that I have to make it right. I want to protect our blog.  Name change. That is it.

We are taking a spring break next week--see you April 28th, with a new name. We have stories ready. And more will be created. Not to worry

Happy Holidays to those celebrating, Happy spring break

Woof, woof

Toys or prey?

LIAM AND GINGERBREAD MAN, KONG BONE INTACT

LIAM GOING FOR THE HEART-KONG BONE IGNORED

G MAN'S SQUEAKER=HEART

INTERNAL STUFFINGS

I have read that the reason dogs shake their toys fiercely  is a vestigial remnant of their wild wolf ancestry. They are really trying to break the spine of the toy and kill it dead.  The squeaker toys seem to cause this instinctual reaction to come out with focused force and tenacity. The squeaker is the heart. Once that is removed, then the stuffings are strewn about.

The only toys that live in our house are Kong (as shown in first photo) 
All others are
thrashed,
shaken
  dismembered
slathered
shredded

Only one toy has lived intact for 2 years.  He is not a "dog" toy.  He is a gorgeously rendered likeness of a black lab. Their time together is monitored as you would for a prison visit. Next two photos show them celebrating St, Paddy's Day. Liam began the session with some affectionate licks but too quickly play turned fierce and Liam's buddy was retrieved and placed on his perch of safety.

LIAM AND FRIEND-SUPERVISED VISIT-Tongue out

THAT'S IT-VISIT IS OVER

Liam has a wolf mom and baby that he likes. Not meant for dog play. He also had been allowed supervised visits with the wolves.  However, on their second play date, with surgical skill and under the duplicitous guise of innocent play, Liam immediately set about removing the noses. My fault. All happened too quickly. Outpatient surgery.  Unfortunately not elective for the wolf playmates.

WOLF ABOUT TO LOSE A NOSE

WOLF FRIENDS BEING DE-NOSED

ON THE COUCH-LIAM THE ONLY ONE WITH A NOSE

GUILTY LIAM HIDING HIS NOSE

SLEEPING BUDDIES

Neither was a squeaker toy.  So the only surgery performed was the de-nosing of each. That done they are now couch mates and nap buddies.

INSEPARABLE

Friends, de-nosed,

GOOD NIGHT

Woof, Woof

Starbucks Sirens evolve

LIAM LICKS AND LIKES THE NEW SIREN STARBUCKS LOGO

Having a place to sit

sip a latte

read the NY Times

blackberry (as a verb) 

network in person

 kindle (all ways) 

recharge physically and technically (outlets all over)

people watch 

 are all part of the Starbucks experience

I have previously written about my problems with seating because of my desire to sit alone.  Well readers,  my attitude has been changing and I have come full circle.  

Started out I wanted to just run in, get my latte and leave.  Then I sat at times with my Times.  Then the troubles began.  Folks needed to sit. There were only a few tables.   Strangers would say "Do you mind if I share the table?"  As they were on their way down to the chair.  I was steamed like my latte.

I then hit upon a solution.  Cover the table with all my devices, papers, bag, latte and make sure only one chair was at my table-the one in which I was sitting.  Worked beautifully.  From my Queenly roost,  I felt power, with that an ebbing of boundaries and fear.  I began chatting to other regulars. I liked it. I felt like the neighborhood Starbucks Siren.  I began to look forward to my daily visit.  They know my name, my drink. Next photo shows my new siren soul under the old Starbucks Siren.

STARBUCKS SIRENS

A heady experience.  The seating problem was no longer a problem.  I always got a solo seat, because of either serendipitous timing or help from other regulars. When there were no seats another regular would get up give his/hers and join another regular.  I was invited to sit with others. Then it came full circle just 2 weeks ago.  I actually sat with a stranger. I initiated it, in the very way I had once loathed.  "Do you mind me sitting here?" as I was on my way down to the seat.  To be clear, the person had not purchased any Starbucks item and had no right to sit (unwritten Starbucks culture law) 

My new attitude coalesced with a Starbucks renovation at my New Hyde Park Store. This update left only two tables with six seats.  My evolution had come just in time. The new configuration would make it very dicey to snare a seat.

My new Siren self was ready. One day this week, I actually invited an older woman to sit at my table.   Another day I sat with two regulars.  Have I yet been able to ask a stranger with a Starbucks purchase if I may join? No.  Maybe next week.I have gone from someone wanting to be anonymous, to enjoying the camaraderie, to joining others at their tables.

As my evolution was occurring, change was brewing within the Starbucks Company. Starbucks is celebrating their 40th year,  Back to basics.
ttp://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/13/business/13coffee.html?_r=1&scp=2&sq=starbucks&st=cse  

LIAM WITH THE OLD SIREN LOGO

And  has a new logo. The  Siren has been released from her circled bondage.
This one minute video shows and tells about her evolution.    She has been inside a circle for many years and sealed with a text. Now no text. She is her own person. Stands alone..

Time magazine states a company has truly become international when it needs no text to identify it.http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,2056730,00.html  Such as Nike. Just the swoosh.

I have become comfortable siting among people and sharing, setting limits when I want. I am freed from my worries and in a way from my own imposed circle of isolation.

JUST A LICK

Liam loves the new Siren.

Woof, Woof

Becoming Charlotte Brontë

Well, who are you? (Who are you? who, who, who, who?)

I really wanna know (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)

Tell me, who are you? (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)

'Cause I really wanna know (Who are you, who, who, who, who?)

The Who

LIAM JOSEPH MCNIFF-NIKOL-HE KNOWS WHO HE IS

We recently finished a book in our "Page Turners" Book  Club at Hillside Library. Its title Becoming Jane Eyre.  A story of the writing Brontë family.  In case you don't know them or need a refresher, the writing Brontë sisters, are Charlotte, Emily and Anne.  Two older sisters died at 11 and 10 before they could make a mark.   And there-was a drunken brother who had to be retrieved from pubs rather consistently. Charlotte's novel Jane Eyre was published in 1847.
The author Sheila Kohler imagines a tale of Charlotte writing Jane Eyre
.http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/27/books/review/Benfey-t.html
We see how Charlotte imbues Jane with  her own qualities, sorrows, and dreams.  Many of Jane Eyre's famous characters are very similar to the real people in Charlotte's own life- a short one-1816-1858, but still longer than all of her five siblings.  A current movie, one of many made over the years has just been released. So Jane/Charlotte is out in public again. See review if you like
http://movies.nytimes.com/2011/03/11/movies/jane-eyre-starring-mia-wasikowska-review.html
And is Jane, Charlotte herself? This Becoming Jane Eyre novel is not huge, passionate and illuminating, but has merit for the questions it poses about the autobiographical nature of Jane Eyre.   I liked the novel not so much for its content as for the imaginings released in me-this family of women writers in a man's publishing world in the mid 1840's. March after all is women's history month.
Apparently, Patrick Brontë was not born with that surname.  He wanted to marry up and believed to do so he would have to hide his ancestry.   He changed his Irish last name from Prunty to Brontë.  He was ashamed of his Irishness and fearful that his heritage would hold him back. So Patrick Prunty became Patrick Brontë, married Maria Branwell- a marriage that came with a dowry and a position.

Why do I care?  We have many Pruntys on my mother Ruth's side.  Her mother Rose was a Prunty.  Rose had six sisters, so there were many Prunty aunts as well.  Then there were two Prunty uncles who disappeared.  Seems no one cared enough to retrieve either of them from anywhere.
Ruth had always said that folks thought the  Prunty name to be English but it was not-just that many Irish had to work in England, some never returning and thus the name commonly thought to be English.  And now I have discovered that this exotic Brontë surname evolved from Prunty.
Charlotte Brontë  is becoming Charlotte Prunty.
I am also thinking about Charlotte's "fictional self" Jane Eyre.   Isn't Eyre, really like Eire, the Gaelic name for Ireland? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89ire
Was Charlotte giving a shoutout to her heritage?

My mother, Ruth, was toying with naming me Charlotte. It was Carol or Charlotte for my father, Charles.  She chose Carol.  If grandmother Rose and mother Ruth had kept the Prunty surname going I could have been Charlotte Prunty.  I am well on my way to Becoming Charlotte Brontë

Am I related to the Brontë/Pruntys?  Is this LiamLicks blog, my Jane Eyre?  I downloaded Jane Eyre to my Kindle-old books are free- I want to see If I feel a psychic connection. 

This is the type of story I miss sharing with my mother.  The duality of her nature-Ruth/Ruthless always made for interesting exchanges.  Would she be Ruth and be excited and flattered to be a possible descendant of a famous female writing family? Ruth, a talented writer herself,  possessing a quirky independence, a unique worldview far ahead of her time. Or would she be Ruthless and say something like "Come on Carol, who cares about the past, all these people are dead anyway. the desolate moors, orphans, true love,  Oh please."

LIAM ON THE DESOLATE WINTER BACKYARD MOOR-LOOKING FOR JANE

Today March 24, is the one year anniversary of my mother's death.  She often reminded me that she did not want a big commemoration of her death, or a party to celebrate her life  The way she put it "Please don't do a Carol McNiff  thing when I am gone."  I think she envisioned a raucous party of toasting people spontaneously composing limericks and the like.  (Note to self-sounds like a good sendoff-put in my will)
Okay, I didn't have any public gathering.   But now that I am becoming Charlotte Brontë -what would a writer do?
I know.
Writers acknowledge, mention, prologue, footnote, dedicate
So no party, no service, but here is what I will do today-

RUTH CIRCA 1939

I dedicate this week's LiamLicks to you, Mom, on this one year anniversary of your death.  Liam sends his licks and love.

BTW, I asked Liam about being a Brontë.  He feels that he has enough names- Liam Joseph McNiff-Nikol.  So he'll stick with those four.

Woof, Woof