Without question, the last couple of weeks have been very awful, especially in Massapequa and Massapequa Park. Whenever I have traveled south of Merrick Road, I have seen terrible devastation. Homes are in ruins and property, including personal belongings that hold precious memories, have been destroyed. Throughout Massapequa and Massapequa Park, many of you are still without electricity or heat as you struggle through the miserable conditions. If there were some way I could wave a magic wand and make it all go away, I would.
I know words do not mean much now, but it will get better. Actions speak louder than words, and the actions I have seen in Massapequa have been extraordinary. Neighbors have pitched in and helped each other get through the crisis. While waiting on long gas lines, I’ve yet to witness someone trying to sneak into line, nor have I seen any disputes. What I have seen is cooperation. We are all working together to restore our community. It is what made Massapequa special before the storm, and it is what will get us through the storm’s aftermath. Massapequa and Massapequa Park are special communities and when we rebuild the damage, the whole nation will see that.
As the warm water fell upon my head, I can say that it felt like the most blissful moment of my life. After my home, like most on Long Island, lost power on Monday, I was left without heat or electricity, and most importantly the ability to wash my hair. Without electricity, my hair dryer would not operate, and I did not want to have a damp head in a house in which the temperature was getting close to dipping below forty degrees.
Fortunately, after two days of living like Daniel Boone, my aunt and uncle were gracious enough to invite both my parents and me to stay with them in the Bronx. They had heard of the devastation in Massapequa and were frantically trying to get in touch with us. However, not only did the landline phones go down, we were having difficulty getting a cell phone signal. So my uncle’s phone calls went unanswered for several days, until a signal became available and we were able to get the many voicemail messages that had been left.
I’m not sure whether I count as a “digital native.” When I was a kid, we had no computers in the house. Eventually we bought a word processor (hey, remember those?) for middle school reports and my mother’s grad school papers, and received a non-Internet connected computer a few years later. It wasn’t until I was well into my high school years that “going online” became a regular thing. Digital native or not, I consider myself fortunate to have been born at precisely the right time to feel comfortable with the Internet, but not for it to have become so second nature to me that I can’t even really see it anymore.
One way to appreciate the exhilarating and at times peculiar culture of the Internet was to follow the recent presidential and vice-presidential debates not on television, but on Twitter. I didn’t really consciously decide to do it; I just happened to be otherwise occupied when the first debate was airing, and it was easy enough to check my phone periodically to see what some people I followed were tweeting about it. Amazed at the speed with which statements from the candidates became Internet memes, I then followed the rest of the debates on Twitter to observe more of this process.
For those of you who believe the doomsday predictions based on the Mayan calendar, I apologize, but I simply do not believe that the world will end in December because of a calendar that was created more than 5,000 years ago. There is no science to back up any claims about doomsday occurring on Dec. 21, 2012, and no theology to back it up either. Jesus is quoted in the Bible as saying about the end of the world, “But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only.” Scientists and clergy are not always in agreement, but it definitely seems that both sides concur that the sun will rise on Dec. 22. So I will plan on celebrating Christmas, New Year’s and hopefully a return trip for the Patriots to the Super Bowl with a better result this time. (Note: I know most of you are not rooting for this, but I have had to endure two Super Bowls in which it seemed that every Giants fan in the New York area who was looking to gloat turned to the only Patriot fan in the area they could find, yours truly, so please cut me a little slack.)
It seems like its a fairly regular occurrence that someone prophesizes that the end of the world is coming. Last year, it was Harold Camping who created headlines with his prophecies for May 21, 2011. Previously, Jan. 1, 2000 was a date that many feared because of the “Y2K” bug. Now it’s Dec. 21. Enough already.
At times, my intuition is way ahead of my brain. I’d like to think that I arrive at a lot of my opinions through logical reasoning, but often, I feel like something is wrong long before I can articulate why it’s wrong. This was the case with the word “privilege” as used in the phrases “white privilege,” “male privilege,” and the especially reviled “white male privilege.” Something about the way these terms are bandied about bothered me, but I couldn’t explain why until recently.
It’s not that I have any doubt that privilege exists; I’ve certainly seen it in action. Even if you’re not particularly devoted to the cause of achieving greater social justice, it’s not difficult to see that being white and male confer some advantages in our culture. So if I admit privilege exists, why does the term make me wince in annoyance?
On Sept. 30, the annual Sons of Italy Feast and Festival was held. It is always a fun day and this year proved to be no exception. Broadway was filled with fun activities, good music, and delicious food to indulge in – even if nutritionists might take issues with zeppoles and sausage being part of one’s diet.
Nassau County was shocked last week with the sad news of Peter Schmitt’s untimely death. As the presiding officer of the Nassau County Legislature, Schmitt was a prominent political figure and often the voice of Nassau County Republicans. He was opinionated and often quite blunt about defending his stance on county issues and he frequently sparred with the leaders of Nassau County Democrats. If you are a Republican, you often chuckled at his comments, and if you are a Democrat, you probably have clenched your teeth in anger at something he said. Much like his favorite baseball team, the Yankees, you were either strongly with him or strongly against him, but there was often no room for being in-between.
However, there was a side to Peter Schmitt that most of Nassau County didn’t know, which is how I will remember him. Despite the hard image, which he sometimes portrayed, Schmitt, or simply “Peter”, as he was known around Massapequa, was tremendously approachable and friendly. I often bumped into him in the local stores in and around Massapequa, and he would be quick to strike up a conversation. Recently, the conversation would always turn to his grandchild, who he had recently welcomed into the world. He was a devoted family man who adored his wife Lois, and he was so proud of their daughter, Samantha.
Like everyone who got to know Peter Schmitt personally, I have been deeply saddened by his sudden passing. Just last Sunday I was with him at the annual Sons of Italy Italian Feast where we chatted for hours with people both young and old.
As the presiding officer of the Nassau County Legislature, Peter was unequalled as a committed and dedicated government leader. And as a friend – a father and husband – he was as fine a man, as I’ve ever known.
Now that I’m an honest woman, as they say, people have started to ask about whether or not my husband and I are planning to have a baby soon. I don’t know the answer to that myself. Sure, I want a baby—babies are so adorable that I turn to mush every time I see anything that looks even remotely like a baby. I coo whenever they show a baby during a commercial, even though I know they’re just trying to sell me overpriced soap.
However, am I ready? First, there are financial concerns. I feel like I should wait until I have money safely invested in a house before I take on the responsibility of caring for another person. At the very least, I don’t think I could safely carry a baby up and down the steps to our two-floor walk-up, so if I had a baby in my current apartment, I would never be able to go outside.
It is with much excitement that I assume the role of editor at the Massapequan Observer. As my predecessor Joe Scotchie wrote last week, I have lived in Massapequa for many years, and I am thrilled to be reporting on my community. Since I moved to Massapequa, I have often said that both Massapequa and Massapequa Park are great communities. Whether enjoying lunch at All-American, a shake at Krisch’s, or just a walk down Park Boulevard, Massapequa has some many unique and charming things to enjoy and some terrific people who live here. And now I get to realize the dream of so many journalists by becoming the editor of my hometown paper.
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