tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-346241212011-12-25T18:39:26.145-05:00"So, what's the words?" my two year old asked, trying desperately to peer around the paperback I had been reading.Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.comBlogger361100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-84118098075859122962011-12-25T17:40:00.022-05:002011-12-25T18:39:26.152-05:00

Winding along a cobblestone street past old world Tudor style homes, I breathed deep the aromatic scent of freshly burning wood wafting from the chimneys above. I could almost envision Chestnuts roasting on those open, albeit controlled fires within. The holidays nearly uponus, I hoped for just a dusting of the white stuff to complete this tranquilpicture postcard that danced like visions of

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-9484163223845271352010-10-21T08:16:00.027-05:002010-10-23T09:32:37.931-05:00

At first the words would not come at all, just a half-hearted sentiment left on a Facebook page that would soon see more hits in a matter of hours than most people see in a week.Or more!We live in a time where the term friends is tossed around so loosely that the very word has lost its true meaning. The sheer number of friends has become almost like a status symbol, yet who am I to

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-26203853962698287372010-09-23T16:23:00.021-05:002010-09-26T17:46:55.682-05:00

On September 16th, 2010, a severe and unexpected storm system charged eastward across New York City and adjacent boro's spawning two tornadoes and a Macroburst. The first tornado touched down in Brooklyn, with sustained winds of 80 mph. The second tornado hit northern Queens, this one with sustained winds of nearly 100 mph. In the neighborhoods of Middle Village and Forest Hills, a rare event

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-88924210353278391402010-07-23T14:15:00.014-05:002010-09-02T14:01:57.024-05:00

Blogger's Note:It's no mystery that I have been a devoted Beach Boy fan for most of my life, a tale that one day will find its way here under my "I've Always Considered Myself Clueless Musically," series.** (Search back further in the archives to find other music obsessions including the Electric Light Orchestra and the Partridge Family.)Recently, I had the incredible good fortune to sit down

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-29027163614740601722010-07-02T09:09:00.010-05:002010-07-03T15:44:50.272-05:00

“Ya know, they say that reading in poor light is bad for your eyes.”“It’s an old wives tale.”“Where do you think that comes from?”“What?”“Old wives tale.” It had been the first semi-intelligent thing I had heard since stepping inside the dimly lit tavern. Turning to the next empty page in my trusty memo pad, I jotted down the three words then answered blandly, “It’s just an old saying.”“But where

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-49499521053882247592010-06-03T09:14:00.050-05:002011-05-04T13:15:02.731-05:00

Blogger's Note: The launch of this site in December of 2003 marked my return to writing following several decades of writer's block. My debut entry "Return to Innocence," had been an ambitious undertaking both in length and heart. For over thirty years, my mind has consistently returned to the wonder and events that transpired in a small Connecticut campground. Fantasy Island (Mr. Rourke and

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-49937065750303700392010-03-16T11:22:00.043-05:002010-03-25T13:33:15.687-05:00

In this case, I use the title in its literal form. The pen just might be mightier as I draw attention to something I have let simmer inside me long enough. Recently a co-worker from my past had the audacity to question both my business practices and work ethic. I have always stood by my work ethic which has been near flawless to a fault. I don't plan on drawing any attention to this particular

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-91002054155260908442010-03-08T15:32:00.045-05:002010-03-11T09:42:18.080-05:00

Writing has long been a part of my life and while for several decades I let that passion fester, my mind continued to function in much the same way that I would assume a writer's would. Maybe I am shamelessly humble, or probably lack the confidence that a true writer feels.There it is right there...a true writer.While I treat this as more of a hobby, mostly due to the fact that the real world is

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-48258291945518807672010-03-06T09:49:00.014-05:002010-03-06T10:53:02.916-05:00

Blogger's Note:Under the gun and under the wire for another magazine submission, this came to me on the day of the greatest snowstorm seen in the NYC tri-state area in years. The timing could not have been better as just days later, our fill-in governor is under pressure to step down. Call me cynical, but I wholehartedly believe that there is no such thing as an honest politician, and that those

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-80526237079756462162010-02-25T17:45:00.027-05:002010-03-07T12:17:33.110-05:00

Blogger's Note:I had initially considered writing about our first dude ranch experience in the lighthearted "Morty" long form that really sets the tone for this site. Thoroughly disgusted however with mismanagement and blatant misrepresentation of the resort in question, I opted to get in touch with the people at Trip Advisor where I posted an accurate picture of what vacationers might experience

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-31264885042641416182009-12-29T12:54:00.027-05:002010-02-25T16:06:26.051-05:00

Here we are already and with little to show for it. Coming off of 2008, which had marked a real writing boom year for me, I had a lot of great plans for the last year of the millennium's first decade. An old quote I remember from High School comes to mind here. "The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray." There may be more to that, but I don't remember it. During that time of my

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-50607000404462262242009-05-06T14:22:00.022-05:002009-05-06T15:38:41.573-05:00

For the time being, we will call this a blogger exclusive! Another PrePrint of an upcoming submission for the growing Forest Hills Celebrity & Entertainment and the ALL NEW Astoria Celebrity & Entertainment magazines. The murder had not been horrific, would never make headlines, and frankly I have my doubts as to whether or not John Q. Public has noticed his absence or even cares. I gaze

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-24547430543566903892009-04-01T19:02:00.059-05:002009-04-10T14:55:17.717-05:00

OvertureJune 1994“Who are you here to see tonight?”“ELO, believe it or not,” he said in almost a whisper.“Me too,” I answered, shrugging off his apparent embarrassment. “I’ve been a fan since Junior High, never had the opportunity to see them in their heyday. This will have to do.”It had been a chance meeting that early summer evening, a happy coincidence, running into an old friend from my

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-63636378679703668732009-03-03T08:23:00.018-05:002009-03-03T13:39:41.454-05:00

This is a Preprint of an article that will appear in the next issue of Forest Hills Celebrity & Entertainment. As this was written for publication, and I am limited to only 1000 words, it is essentially just a small piece in a much larger tale.OvertureI have never been an autograph hound, don’t consider myself as the star struck type, yet there I was one mid-90’s summer afternoon, making haste to

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-43737593385216127812009-01-27T08:43:00.013-05:002009-01-27T12:34:38.544-05:00

I have recently become a fan of (and subsequently obsessed with) Facebook.WARNING!If you are not a member yet, take heed.IT IS ADDICTING!A substantial portion of my High School graduating class are all there, and now they are my friends. Most of them barely recognized my existence back then, but hey; that's ancient history. The reason I bring this to light now comes as a result of a note I

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-78265295066885317452009-01-10T12:45:00.037-05:002009-01-17T22:37:43.417-05:00

4 lines from a lazy poet, her epitaph read , only after loudly voicing her annoyance at being approached by yet another autograph seeker. Granted, she was the most popular girl in school, but we were in the sixth grade! I had hoped for nothing more than a brief memento of the even briefer time we had spent together over the last several years, something I could go back to and read with a

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-25729043751139688452008-12-21T15:55:00.020-05:002008-12-22T08:51:46.432-05:00

“Stop the car, stop the car,” my brother and I screamed in unison.From the rear seat, ripe with the smell of fresh pine, having just chosen the tree that would grace our living room; we had implausibly seen the impossible.“What,” my dad responded, trying in earnest to curb his anger at our ear splitting outburst?“It’s Santa, It’s Santa,” we rejoiced in perfect monophonic stereo.What is he doing

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-11912134143650716072008-12-04T07:55:00.018-05:002008-12-05T08:02:57.190-05:00

I started a new book on the bus ride in this morning, and no sooner should I reach the bottom of page one, do I come across this quote that sums up my sole reason for launching this site in the first place."A son is a promise that time makes to man, the guarantee every father receives that whatever he holds dear will someday be considered foolish, and that the person he loves best in the world

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-32863778392475126062008-12-02T08:32:00.014-05:002008-12-02T17:08:07.161-05:00

I'm sure the title of this post is completely misspelled, but how would one go about spelling Christmas in the plural sense? That said, the time for levity comes briefly to an end. Yes, with the conclusion of Thanksgiving, the "holiday" season is now upon us. Here in the Greater New York Area this time of year is often met with a little bit of stress. I'm not talking about stress of the shopping

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-61910056833746720902008-11-29T10:28:00.024-05:002009-01-05T13:36:44.016-05:00

December 6th will officially mark the second year that this site has been up and running. Regretfully and as expected, there have been some lapses in posting with any degree of regularity. The creative burst I had over the summer was encouraging, though creative is pretty far from what it could actually be considered. I am writing about my life after all. Recently, I seem to have hit yet another

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-9449059390283015692008-10-17T17:45:00.021-05:002008-10-23T12:35:12.752-05:00

**This is my first official Reprint, something I won't be making a habit of. As this is timely for the moment, I thought I might put it out there for the world outside of my little piece of paradise**Morty 10/08Here we are already in the fall of 2008 with another presidential election looming on the horizon.WAIT!I know what you’re thinking, but before you turn the page let me take a moment and

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-62765101275323884282008-10-12T11:09:00.028-05:002010-03-12T12:59:28.625-05:00

1.It was "Free Hour," which simply meant just that in literal terms. I was in my second week of a budding college career choosing to begin my continuing education path at the Long Island campus of the New York Institute of Technology. Having no interest in leaving the comfort and security of home and even less enthused in joining a fair percentage of my graduating classmates at a nearby two-year

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-81829324836991943202008-09-06T08:10:00.041-05:002008-09-16T08:08:34.695-05:00

1."Please make it two weeks from now."I used to summon that up like some type of chant when I was younger. Looking up to the heavens, I would silently plead with whoever might be looking back down to take me away from this terrible moment, transport me no less than two weeks into the future where everything would be alright again. Terrible moments at that age came with far less consequences. It

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-67581062661529216692008-09-01T06:58:00.041-05:002008-09-12T16:29:21.222-05:00

I miss the days when life used to move in slow motion. In a desperate effort to make the most out of what was unbelievably the last day of summer, my son and I got an earlier start than usual in getting out of the house. Walking alongside, watching him pedal a bike he is quickly outgrowing, we spent our leisurely journey happily rehashing some of the finer moments of a summer season that has gone

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-79099638438217675742008-08-28T19:00:00.037-05:002010-09-09T08:51:42.181-05:00

Tennis enthusiasts, don't take offense, I'm not a tennis fan. I know very little about the game over all. I know that points are scored as Love. Had I known it was that easy, I would have picked up Tennis years ago. What a boost to my delicate teen ego it would have been, even if I had scored just a little love! I wrote a story about Tennis once, wa-a-y-y back when I was in the tenth grade. The

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-52546126634432390252008-07-27T17:20:00.101-05:002008-09-12T16:34:42.924-05:00

WOW!There's hope for us small town blogger's after all.Recently I had the great pleasure of reading a feature article in Long Island's Newsday relating the tale of a local blogger. longislanddailyphoto.blogspot.com opens a small window allowing the rest of the world to come inside and experience a piece of everyday life, one photo at a time, as seen through the eyes of an average long islander.

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-55883846837053600352008-07-21T17:37:00.093-05:002008-08-19T18:52:00.576-05:00

I consider myself a decent wordsmith when it comes to the English language, something I can attribute to my voracious appetite for reading. I'm not reading Faulkner or Hemingway mind you, but I seem to get by fairly well. Admittedly, I am a bit on the lazy side when it comes to words I'm unsure of, so rather than puzzle over their meaning or pronunciation, I just kind of skip over it and move on.

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-31719079157131545752008-07-15T06:40:00.034-05:002008-07-27T17:14:02.658-05:00

Right now I picture a bunch of wayward Internet surfers in search of something along the dominatrix, S&M lines wandering in here after typing the tag word "Discipline" in the Blogspot search engine only to find a picture of a doting dad with his kid, and a number of very "G" rated stories as well.WAIT!Don't leave until I've had the opportunity to welcome you and invite you to look around. My

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-69444541327752411362007-11-05T15:38:00.000-05:002007-11-06T08:11:45.117-05:00

Alright, so just when you think the novelty has worn off and he's gone back to the everyday mundane aspects of daily life, he resurfaces. Yes, it's been a while since I posted; nearly six months to be exact. I've got a few things in the works that will at some point find their way here. In the meantime however, the writing has actually continued. In fact, it was with the completion of my first

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-3447066384086816972007-04-06T08:43:00.000-05:002007-04-07T17:20:13.241-05:00

"So What’s the Words…,” my two year old asked as he tried desperately to peer around the cover of the paperback I’d been attempting to read… There comes a rite of passage in the life of most young teens which is often looked upon with much excitement as it really defines the first major step towards independence and maturity.I didn’t see it that way.Lacking a degree of self-confidence during

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-3057906088221975352007-02-28T12:58:00.000-05:002007-03-05T16:14:29.332-05:00

"So What’s the Words…,” my two year old asked as he tried desperately to peer around the cover of the paperback I’d been attempting to read…December 2006“How can this thing not be here yet,” I silently cursed?I’d paid for the merchandise several weeks ago, receiving an automatically generated e-mail stating that my item was already on its way!Talk about expediency, I mused!Yet here it was nearly

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-49742068127797204842007-01-09T08:08:00.000-05:002007-02-28T16:57:47.968-05:00

"So What’s the Words…,” my two year old asked as he tried desperately to peer around the cover of the paperback I’d been attempting to read…The PresentWhy Blog?I guess you can say that on the surface it was really the birth of my son that was the catalyst to get the pen moving again, but beneath that surface lies a little more of the real story. While I’ve subtitled this particular section The

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-66320512962726673112007-01-08T11:39:00.000-05:002007-01-09T09:43:17.840-05:00

"So What’s the Words…,” my two year old asked as he tried desperately to peer around the cover of the paperback I’d been attempting to read...The PastWriting was something that had come very naturally to me at a really young age, and while I can’t remember (no surprise there) those earliest attempts at creativity I can reach as far back as the third grade – a simple assignment set before the

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-54275735743799654232006-12-19T10:24:00.000-05:002006-12-20T13:42:33.083-05:00

“So What’s the Words…,” my two year old asked as he tried desperately to peer around the cover of the paperback I’d been attempting to read… It was a cold wintry December night as I began the long journey home, gazing wonderingly at the lights and displays upon the Tudor style homes, the smell of burning wood permeating the air as it wafted from the chimneys. Yes, it was that wondrous time of

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-84607760028447592602006-12-13T12:18:00.001-05:002008-08-20T10:26:26.323-05:00

“So What’s the Words…,” my two year old asked as he tried desperately to peer around the cover of the paperback I’d been attempting to read…The bar was set pretty high when I’d finally acted on my parent’s not so gentle prodding and decided to get a job. Simply – no fast food and no supermarkets.A recipe for disaster, it had become apparent that I would not be holding a job of any magnitude for

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34624121.post-36245233327955930472006-12-06T14:05:00.001-05:002008-07-22T12:29:47.949-05:00

"So What’s the Words…,” my two year old asked as he tried desperately to peer around the cover of the paperback I’d been attempting to read…And so begins my first “Blog”…an odd word, but in these politically correct times we now live in, let’s face it “Journal” or “Diary” would never fly. Of course any hopes of updating this or adding daily entries are completely out of the question for several

Mortyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780718889571159408noreply@blogger.com3