February 7, 2009

This has been a busy week.

First of all, my mayor came to my borough on Monday for the annual Groundhog thing at the Staten Island Zoo. Here's what happened next...


Needless to say, Staten Island Chuck is probably more popular in this city (and in this borough) than Mayor Bloomberg is right now. And so far, the groundhog seems to be right about Spring coming early. But then, 40 degrees is warm compared to what this city saw most of last month.


And anyone who has read this blog in the last few months knows I don't particularly care for the reckless out of pool actions of one human Flipper. Last weekend's NY Post and Monday's Metro and AM-NY all had headlines about Michael Phelps's experience with marijuana. I predicted he would do something stupid with drugs last year. And considering he will now be suspended from official activities for the next 3 months, maybe he will be hawking those medals in the ghettos of Baltimore in the near future. I just hope Richland County, SC, throws the book at him.


And this morning, I finally joined the digital TV community, with my new fresh-from-E-Bay Zenith DTT-901 hooked up to my tv set. The picture quality is great, and I now get NOAA weather radio off my TV set, Fox and My Network on 4 different subchannels, and a whole lot more PBS stations. Now if only I can get it to work with my VCR..

December 25, 2005

Folks, this is not a Christmas tale for kids..

Santa did not stop by the 6100 block of Cooper Avenue in Queens last night. Instead, paramedics, firefighters, and police officers from the 104 Precinct huddled around the small white house. They were summoned because of a large man named Kenneth Gromwaldt in the living room. Despite the paramedics' best efforts, Kenneth (or Kenny, as the house knew him) was pronounced dead at 9:30PM. He was 47 years of age.

The police questioned the landlord, Shanik, about the deceased. Shanik remarked that Kenny had a sister named Geraldine from Middle Village. Kenny had a few side jobs moving furniture. He had asthma and a blood clot in one of his legs. He also had a voracious appetite for drugs, including angel dust, heroin, xanax, methadone, and marijuana.

On the preceding night (December 23), Kenny went to his neighbor Dorby's room. Dorby sometimes assisted in Kenny's pharamceutical pursuits. But this time, Kenny downed Dorby's bottle of xanax and her methadone without her consent. She shooed him away, and he passed out on the kitchen table. Hours later, Kenny stumbled from the kitchen to the living room, where he spent the last 21 hours of his life.

Shanik, Dorby, and the other residents of the small white rooming house were in shock when the paramedics announced they could not revive Kenny. Dorby blamed herself for Kenny's death. One of the paramedics gave her Kenny's tiny address book, and she started calling the names listed on the book. One of them, Pete, was Kenny's boss from the moving jobs. He hung up on her when she told him that Kenny was dead. The police never noticed the address book. If they had, they could have gotten the names and phone numbers of at least 4 drug dealers.

So much for a well paying job. So much for 47 years of life. So much for good humor- all gone because of some pills and chemicals. To those who think using and abusing illegal drugs is fun and harmless, go to the morgue or Potters' Field in the Bronx. That's where your harmless fun takes you.