Memoir of a Real Life Archives - Page 20 of 24

Cross Country Training (Notes from Riding Through the Heart of America)

By Chris Carosa on May 17, 2016

Nobody likes to hear the principal call your name through the loudspeaker. This is an eternal fear. It’s like one of those dreams where you wake up realizing you have a test you haven’t studied for (let alone in a course you’ve never attended class for). You never ever want to hear your name blared from some public address system (unless there’s a reward involved).

So, when I’m anonymously sitting in the makeshift shaft they call the Rochester train station (the new one is supposed to be ready this fall), you can understand why I suddenly Continue Reading “Cross Country Training (Notes from Riding Through the Heart of America)”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life, The Compleat Carosa Commentaries

Here’s What Goes Through Your Mind When You’re About to Appear on a Live Network Broadcast

By Chris Carosa on May 10, 2016

The alarm finally buzzed at 4:30am. I had already been up for three minutes. It’s weird. No matter what strange hour I need to get up for something, I’m always wide awake well before I need to be. I’m sure many of you won’t seem surprised by this, but my sleep cycles are not quite, shall we say “eastern time zone.” In general, 4:30 in the morning is a lot closer to when I usually go to bed than it is to when I usually get up. And I do more often than not get the requisite eight hours of sleep.

For some reason, I just wasn’t excited about this television appearance. To make sure we’re on the same page here, I must remind you that I am not famous enough not to get Continue Reading “Here’s What Goes Through Your Mind When You’re About to Appear on a Live Network Broadcast”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life, The Compleat Carosa Commentaries

Please Somebody Steal this Idea!

By Chris Carosa on April 23, 2016

The phone rang (again). It was a most inconvenient time (again). I didn’t recognize the number (again).

When I picked it up I heard a nice woman’s voice inform me there’s nothing urgent with my credit card… I hung up. Again.

How many times do you get these obnoxious calls purporting to come from your credit card company? Can’t somebody do something about this?

They can. And here’s how…

But first, a trip in the Wayback Machine…

It was the early 1980s and I was sitting in the office of the firm’s owner. I wasn’t in trouble (this time). Continue Reading “Please Somebody Steal this Idea!”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life, The Compleat Carosa Commentaries Tagged Caller-ID, cell phone, Manning & Napier, Rochester Telephone

Life In the Pits (Part III)

By Chris Carosa on April 19, 2016

For the previous installment – and to better understand the twist at the end of this article – you should first read “Life in the Pit (Part I).”

Moving is never easy for a youngster. To have a comfortable routine suddenly ripped from you can devastate a psyche that perhaps has not yet fully matured. In my personal case, I can say that my moving from one city to another at the tender age of ten-and-a-half represents an essential element of who I’ve become. It forced me to recognize things much quicker than my peers. I am, and always will be, eternally grateful for the opportunity moving presented.

On the other hand, I will forever complain about it. Too many changes. Too many lost friendships. And, in the end, too much guilt (but that’s another story). This particular story continues what we started several weeks ago and ends with a topic that may be more Continue Reading “Life In the Pits (Part III)”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life, The Compleat Carosa Commentaries Tagged Florence Brasser, Gates Chili, Herman Dilmore, Miss Avalon, orchestra, The Beatles, violin

I Could Never Live on Pacific Time

By Chris Carosa on March 29, 2016

Who knew?

I used to brag about living on Pacific Time. Let me explain.

It’s been said that writer’s tend to do their best work either first thing in the morning or very late in the evening. I fall into the latter category. I don’t know if I consciously chose that category or if the category chose me. As many of you know, I have a fairly successful day job. This precludes the “first thing in the morning” category from my list of options as a Continue Reading “I Could Never Live on Pacific Time”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life, The Compleat Carosa Commentaries Tagged California, writing

Ruling the World My Way

By Chris Carosa on June 13, 2012

As I write this, alone, past midnight on June 12/13, 2012, I listen to an endless replay of Coldplay’s Viva La Vida, a tear welling in my eye, as I see my life passing before me.

For a long time, the song that most defined me was Sinatra’s My Way. Not Paul Anka’s My Way, but Frank Sinatra’s. I know it’s a cliché, and I’ve asked my family never to play that song as an homage to life at my wake. I’ve asked that primarily because it’s a cliché, not because it’s not appropriate, or, at least, wasn’t appropriate.

There was something about Sinatra’s defiance that makes his interpretation of Anka’s lyrics so alluring. Even as a high school teenager, I found myself attracted to the song and, in particular, Sinatra’s stiff chinned version. Sure, I liked the eternal optimism of The Impossible Dream, but that tune, without a definitive version, had only the poetry of its Continue Reading “Ruling the World My Way”

Posted in Gray Matter Musings, Memoir of a Real Life, The Compleat Carosa Commentaries Tagged Frank Sinatra, My Way, Paul Anka, The Impossible Dream, Viva La Vida

So This Is Why W Reunioned at the White House

By Chris Carosa on April 26, 2012

It’s 11:35pm on a Tuesday night. I’m sitting on a train, the Amtrak Lake Shore Limited, on my way to Chicago. I boarded the train in a Rochester rain at 11:25pm, twenty-five minutes later than the schedule dictated. It didn’t matter. I’m not in a hurry. I haven’t been in a hurry since the sun first rose.

Yes, my lackadaisical day began in surprising sunshine. I say “surprising” because I happened to be in New Haven, Connecticut. In another era, it would have been raining. I would have also Continue Reading “So This Is Why W Reunioned at the White House”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life Tagged 30th Reunion, Animal House, Chicago, Davenport, John Ford, New Haven, Rochester, Secession Party, The Cottage, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, Yale

Size Doesn’t Matter

By Chris Carosa on April 12, 2012

It may have been my father’s greatest embarrassment, but it was my greatest loss, a loss erased only by 25 years and a chance plumbing mishap.

How my family sees my long lost 1970 trophy.

It all started on a day which lives in “famy” (as opposed to“infamy”). No, I’m not exaggerating. It really was a famous day.

On Saturday, March 7, 1970, I found myself bowling three games at Leisure Lanes in Hamburg, New York, among several dozen participants in the first Bowling Tournament my Cub Scout Pack ever had. The rest of the Northern Hemisphere spent the bulk of that sunny midday experiencing the greatest total eclipse of the sun our corner of the Earth will have until April 8, 2024. (For my own account of that day, see “Solar Eclipse, 1970 – A True Story,” Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel, August 17, 2017.)

I had won the Big Tree Cub Scout Pack 489 Bowling Tournament that day. My father, the Pack’s Cubmaster, bought a nice bowling trophy and a brass plate to etch the name of the winner. He didn’t expect his son to take the trophy home.

That’s what embarrassed him.

So struck by the genuine joy I showed in winning it, he couldn’t bear telling me of his Continue Reading “Size Doesn’t Matter”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life, The Compleat Carosa Commentaries Tagged 1970 Total Eclipse of the Sun, Big Tree Cub Scout Pack 489, Blasdell, Blasdell Bowling Academy, bowling, Brongo Bowl, Buffalo, Chili, Cub Scout, Dynamo, erie county fair, Estes rockets, hamburg, Honeoye Falls, Leisure Lanes, March 7 1970, Mendon, Rochester, Solar Eclipse

Ode to Curt’s Stop-In: An Era Ends

By Chris Carosa on December 15, 2011

Like a scene from The Wonder Years, I remember the feeling of youthful exuberance when, in the dark of evening, we crossed the six lanes of hectic highway as only reckless eight-year olds could. The thrice daily shift change left Route 5 abuzz with a cornucopia of cars – from speeding muscular sportsters to equally vigorous family sedans. I wasn’t looking at the traffic, though. Instead, my eyes fixed on the heavens above as I followed the path of a faintly glowing satellite arc through the starry sky blanketing us. I pointed it out to my friend, who also had a thing for astronomy. It was the early summer of 1968 and I was about to experience something I would never forget.

We survived the treacherous crossing and made a bee-line to a place I had never Continue Reading “Ode to Curt’s Stop-In: An Era Ends”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life, Western New York State of Mind Tagged Bethlehem Steel, Blasdell, Buffalo, Curly Q's, Curt's Stop-In, family, Growing Up, Route 5, Woodlawn

Goodbye My Leather Jacket

By Chris Carosa on December 15, 2011

[This Commentary originally appeared in the December 13, 1990 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel.]

It came to me in a plain brown cardboard box as I prepared to catch a midday flight to Washington DC four years ago. The dark brown many-pocketed WWII Bombardier’s Flight Jacket had caught my eyes a few weeks before. I really didn’t expect it to arrive before I left for the political conference. Imagine my joy when the UPS truck pulled up into my driveway.

Since my earliest days the spirit and the zest of the fighter jock secretly boiled far down within my soul. To counter this inner desire lay a cautious sense of responsibility. Yet, I could not deny deep-seated feelings. I knew, just like most people, I had undertaken some “daring” adventures. While not life threatening, these encounters certainly Continue Reading “Goodbye My Leather Jacket”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life, The Compleat Carosa Commentaries Tagged Don Cesar, Harmonica, leather jacket, Manning & Napier, politics, Reagan, Red River, South Lawn, Tampa, Washington DC, White House, Young Republicans