three guys, three girls & one weekly meal

#16 Monday Night Dinners


Some say all good things must come to an end. While I often do believe that this is true, I also believe that those good things deserve to be recognized long after they are over-no exceptions. How will we ever forget Jakie's Cheesy Supreme, that Brad Pitt-looking Rutilio Grande wall painting or the respite we found in that house at the end of Carroll Avenue?



It is great to know that despite the end of our volunteer years in August 2008, we have still made an effort to gather for great food and conversation over these past couple of years. It is my hope that these seemingly ad hoc meals will continue for years to come. Veronica, Allison, Brigid, Jake and Chris L., let's make sure that this happens!


*i am dedicating this blog post to Jake Halusker and his good friend/fiancee, Amy. May the good Lord continue to bless you both.

HEIGHTened expectations

#17 My 25th Birthday, Mardi Gras 
& 88.7 fm WJCU

You, like me, may be wondering what these three things have in common?

Well, for starters, February 16th is my birthday. It just so happened that Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) last year fell on February 16th 2010.  It also just so happened that the third day of  WJCU's annual Radiothon fell on Februrary 16th 2010. Coincidence? Probably, but boy did I have a blast on the air waves!

I never knew that I had a decent "radio voice," as a few loved ones have informed me over the course of my brief dj career, nor did I realize what a blast I would have being a radio personality. Maybe there was another reason why I chose tommykthedijay as my email address?!

Whether or not I end up back ON AIR someday, I do want to thank you--one last time--for listening to the Heights, on 88.7!

as promised

after returning from my weekend getaway in the (216), i was reminded that i have yet to finish my top 25 countdown of my most memorable moments in Cleveland, Ohio. so where was i? ah yes, i had just finished lauding the man, the myth, the legend--John Monahan.

let the countdown continue...

one of cleveland's finest

#18 John Mon

this man needs no introduction.

however, i will share several stories and memories that have been forever engraved into Cleveland folklore. without further adieu, i begin.




i probably should first explain this picture. for the past several years, John Monahan has been recognized as both a steadfast (official and unofficial) support for the Cleveland JVs. Like other former Jesuit Volunteers, he appreciates gifts. on this particular evening in our storied JVC kitchen, i was sharing some gifts and treats of my own that my family had mailed to me. one item in particular was a LARGE, Vermont-made maple sugar candy shaped like a maple leaf. i decided that it would be fun to challenge my pal to consume the entire candy in one bite. he agreed. almost immediately, he began coughing and gasping for air. he appeared to be choking! thankfully, one of my roommates came to the rescue by providing him with a glass of water. somehow we were able to capture this shot on camera and have ceased to let him forget :)

(i'm just realizing that most pictures of John Monahan need some sort of explanation)

[outstanding memories of Monahan:]

1. The morning when he graciously offered to drive me to work and his former green Toyota took a nose dive into a deep pot hole (that was covered with snow) in the parking lot across from the JVC house. he had to borrow Bill Merriman's shovel to pry himself free. he asked me to hit the gas several times, but in doing so, thick sludge dirtied his work slacks. we eventually did manage to get his car out of that hole.

2. Who picks you up from the Amtrak station at 3:30am in the morning and also offers you a place to sleep? He did.

3. John and i have always played catch (usually in the middle of Church Avenue). On one particular summer afternoon, our young neighbor, Jackson, was hanging out with us and riding his bike. i was clearly distracted by Jackson, because the next thing i knew i had a BIG welt above my right eye socket. John admittedly did not look before he threw the baseball. He made it up to me ten fold.

4. Watching episodes of The Office with John and making twss comments.

5. Artichoke Heart dish (enough said :)

For these memories,
thank you,

John.



look what the new guy dragged in...

#19 JCU Move-In Day

i was recently reminded of my need to share the story of this memorable evening in late August 2008, when a current JCU RA living in Murphy Hall asked me, "when would you like to come get your tv stand?" i couldn't contain my laughter.

if you don't know the story of the infamous tv stand, please excuse my tardiness in sharing this epic narrative.

right before i moved from my JVC house and into my new on-campus apartment at John Carroll University, i received word from the president of the Saint Martin de Porres high school (Cristo Rey school in Cleveland), Rich Clark, that he had a beautiful piece of furniture (tv stand) that he would be willing to give me for FREE (as long as i picked it up from his house). always read the fine print.

at that time in my life, i was in this recycling mode of not throwing away reusable stuff, so you can imagine what i did. i told Rich i would be by to pick the furniture up and thereafter called my buddy, jake, who i knew had a pick-up truck that could carry this item to JCU. unfortunately, what i failed to ask Rich, in making our transportation arrangements, was the size & weight of his tv stand. when jake and i arrived in Rich's driveway and realized the size/weight of my new piece of hardware, we knew immediately that our task was cut out for us that night.

after managing to lift this monstrous, top-heavy tv stand into the bed of jake's truck (with, of course, the help of every single one of the ropes & pulleys that jake threw into his truck before we left), we realized that it was too long and the tailgate wouldn't shut. we figured that we would probably do more damage by removing if from the truck bed than driving it to Carroll, so we tied that puppy down and were ready to make our drive cross-town. topping out at 40 mph on route 71N, jake drove as slowly as possible in order to avoid our cargo sliding off and into oncoming traffic. we frequently glanced into the rear view mirrors afraid that our wooden box might disappear into the evening sky only to be followed by splintering wood and screeching brakes. thankfully, the three of us made it safely and intact to campus. little did we know, however, what (or rather who) would be awaiting our arrival.

as jake pulled his truck as close to my new residence hall as possible, he parked. suddenly, we were frantically greeted by a couple dozen men who were running towards us dressed in SWAT team-like uniforms and carrying firearms. jake and i turned to each other in utter bewilderment. one of the security officials approached along the driver's side and asked us what we were doing. we explained to him that we were moving into Murphy. he informed us that we would have to wait until the JCU security team completed their drill training. we complied and were eventually directed to the south side entrance of the dorm.

since i had already moved most of my stuff to my new apartment earlier that week, the tv stand was the only object that had to be carried in. thank goodness for that! upon using the old-fashioned, sliding elevator (which i had never experienced before), jake and i arduously lifted and dragged this hunk of furniture about fifty yards to my room--all the while pulling up chunks of carpet and creating imprints in our fingers that seemingly did not disappear for days. it did not help that the backing of this piece of furniture was a particle board! once we (and when i use this word "we," i mean JAKE) managed to transport this tv stand to room 218, WE WERE DONE. sweaty. exhausted. late for our dinner date with our friends.

jake and i often revisit this evening in late July and shake our heads in disbelief.

bert didn't need ernie to tell his story

#20 Midnight Tales from the Bar Stools @ Nighttown

Have you ever met a complete stranger who knows seemingly every celebrity and tells some of the most unbelievable, yet convincing stories? Well, my friend Mark & I did in early March at one of Cleveland's finest jazz clubs. 

He referred to himself as Bert Task.

Unfortunately, both Mark & I have been unable to find any information about him (other than what he shared with us and some other patrons a few weeks ago). If it wasn't for a few stray remarks I made about this year's Chicago Bulls squad and a playoff projection, I am not sure if we would have ever met this wise sage. I cannot and will not share with you the actual details of our 4+ hour conversation; otherwise, i would be blogging for the next four hours. However, what I will share with you is something that Bert, although probably unintentionally, taught me--namely the importance of taking the time to learn from our elders. 


This picture is the best illustration of what I remember Bert looking like. If you happen to meet him one day, please call me immediately. I need to thank him.

(this is a more recent addendum to this post, but it belongs here. last evening Mark, Michelle and I ventured over to Walter & Marlynna Major's house and were captivated by Walter's culinary concoctions but also his ability to conjure up debates like no other) 

no map, no problem

#21 Road Trips with FRIENDS...

there is just something purely sweet and refreshing about traveling hundreds of miles (sometimes with strangers you hardly even know) to some of the most interesting cities & landmarks in America, after which you find yourself referring to these cross-country companions as your closest friends.

since i have been in cleveland, i have tripled the number of states that i had previously visited, consumed some of the local's favorite & most delectable dishes, and attended MLB games at several new ballparks (Comerica, PNC, Bush Stadium, the Greater American Ballpark and, of course, the Jake!). there have been so many memorable journeys over the past four years that i believe some of them deserve their own special attention during this final pit stop:

1. Any & every road trip with Terri Rawlings

2. 3WM Photo Scavenger Hunt (Cle-NYC)

3. Moving Gisella out of Detroit and into BC

4. JVC Fall  Retreat to Dubuque,  Iowa in a  "borrowed" St. Ignatius HS Labre van

5. Emergency Pick-ups from the CAK     (Canton-Akron Airport)

Happy trails...

BOOhio City

#22 Celebrating Halloween with 1st Time Trick or Treaters :)


I used to really enjoy All Hallow's Eve.

In fact, as soon as I started getting sick from eating too much candy corn and running out of costume ideas, the holiday lost a lot of its earlier appeal.

That is, until I met the children from the neighborhood. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Ohio City (or the near west side of Cleveland), it is interesting to note that a good portion of residents and their families are refugees from countries like Liberia, Kenya and other African/European nations. Thankfully, we have folks like Bill Merriman and Jim Sleck that work tirelessly to make certain that these families most basic needs are satisfied.  

I would like to believe that I try to satisfy their need for humor and play whenever I see some of my former neighborhood kids (some now adolescents) either at St. Pat's Church on Sundays or hanging out in the backyards of the Arrupe Neighborhood House. For two years in a row, on October 31st, I looked forward to escorting and supervising these youngsters--all dressed up in mostly hand-me-down costumes and stuffing their faces with hot dogs & all the sweets you could dream of. Unfortunately, time and circumstance have prevented me from continuing to participate in this JVC tradition, but I do know that those kids formed some lasting memories those crisp Autumn nights.

Thank you Denise Rolland, among others, for helping restore a little bit of that innocence into one the spookiest nights of the year.

gettin' shelled

#23 Peanut Week at Hoopples

Let it be known that Riche threw the first one.

So there is this local watering hole on the near west side of Cleveland, known as Hoopples, that offers a beautiful view of downtown and has become a favorite gathering place for some of my colleagues and friends. Many would argue that Hoopples is most famous because of the musical demonstrations of the Schwartz Brothers (ask Devon about Glenn!); however, on this particular weekday in May, one of my favorite salty snacks--Mr. Peanut--became the focus of our party's interactions.

I do not recall if there was any sign or signal that suggested that we huck empty peanut shells at each other (aside from the observance that other patrons were tossing their own peanut shells on the bar floor), but what transpired for about 45 minutes that evening was a relentless air assault. To make matters worse, our server continued to refill our table with fresh peanuts! From shooting for the mouth of others' drinks to helping some of the women pull fragments of peanut shell from their hair, the "saltiness" of this memorable night on Columbus Road will forever be preserved in local folklore.

walkin' in a winter wonderland

#24 Browns vs. Bills Blizzard Bowl (December 16th 2007)

Let me defrost the scene for you (in case you were sitting by the fireplac).

It was just about noon in Cleveland, Ohio.

I had returned from picking up the the Barretts' four season tickets in Bay Village.

The intermittent flurries that started to fall about thirty minutes ago had turned into incredibly wet snowflakes that somehow found their way onto my blinking eyelashes.
The wind began to howl and whip.

I began tossing my football into the white abyss above smack dab in the middle of Church Avenue, as I eagerly awaited for my JVC roommates to join me for our impending arctic adventure downtown. I was lovin' life.

Now, here is where the exact details start to escape me.

I believe the four of us (Veronica, Brigid, Jakey & I--all pictured) were dropped off by our gracious neighbor, Paula, at the Tower City Mall downtown along with hundreds of other brave souls.  Bundled up to our noses and as far down as our eyes could see, the four of us began our 30-minute journey towards Cleveland Browns Stadium against some of the strongest, roaring winds and blinding snow that the mouth of Lake Erie has arguably ever produced. The wind was whipping so much and without break that Brigid and I had to cling for dear life to a nearby streetlight pole in order to avoid getting swept into the street. No exagerration.

Then, all of sudden, as our view of the stadium became clearer, we received an "invitation" to be children again. This was not a problem for me :)

There is a famous ramp by the front gates of the stadium. Usually, fans walk over it within seconds. This day, however, there was a single sheet of ice and fans were either SLIDDING down the embankment on their back-sides or surfer-style screaming like little children on Christmas morning. It was highly entertaining!

Unfortunately, the game itself  was uneventful with its poor field conditions, frozen fans, and low score (the Browns actually won 8-0 on two field goals from Phil Dawson and a special teams safety). Brigid and Veronica made an unpopular decision, when they left the game at halftime (their "hot" cocoa apparently couldn't thaw them). Jake and I were able to outlast the brunt of the second half and were able to take hot showers as soon as we returned home.

I might never be this cold again. Thank you, Cleveland.

scenes from an Italian disc golf shop

#25 Traveling with my sister (Kaitlyn) to the attic of Scotti's Italian Eatery to purchase our very own, one-size fits all disc golf frisbees from none other than Scotti himself


Kaitlyn was visiting for Easter. I had just returned to my JCU apartment from a long day at my internship site and realized how beautiful of an afternoon it was in Cleveland (a rare occasion). I asked Kaitlyn if she wanted to go play a round of frisbee golf before dinner and she said "absolutely, but we don't have any frisbees!" I told her not to worry and that we would figure something out (little did she know that I was planning on swinging by a Italian restaurant near the disc golf course that my friend, Mark, told me sells discs). So we hopped into a friend of mine Augustus' car (keep this car in mind for a future tribute) and felt just about every pot hole on our journey north towards the lake. Once I knew we were getting close, I asked my sister to look out for a restaurant called Scotti's. We whizzed by its tiny parking lot, but we both spotted it almost immediately (at this point, Kaitlyn knows that we are trying to purchase some frisbees, but understandably believes that this Italian restaurant is not the right place and knows full well about my "strong" navigation skills). I decide to park in their lot. Kaitlyn notices a sign above the rear door of the Scotti's restaurant that reads: DISC GOLF GIFT SHOP. She cannot believe it, but wait it gets better. I turn the door knob but it is locked! I start to worry that maybe it is closed or no longer in business. We decide to enter through the front of the restaurant and ask one of the employees about the disc golf store in the rear. She tells us that she will be right back, as she  presumably went to ask the owner/manager about letting us in. While she is gone, Kaitlyn and I are tempted by the succulent aromas that are permeating off of each guest's plate in this quaint, family-owned Italian eatery.  The woman returns from the back of the restaurant and slowly walks towards us. I dread the news that she probably bears. I ask, "is it open?" and begin to turn towards the front turn before she answers. I do a double take, as she beckons us to follow her. I look at Kaitlyn and realize that we may get the opportunity to buy some discs after all. Walking through their kitchen and dish room, this woman eventually leads us to a narrow stairwell on the other side of that aforementioned locked rear door (it was like the other side of the Narnian wardrobe :) We walked slowly up this queaky flight of stairs and met, amidst hundreds of fluorescent flat discs, a middle-aged man who seemed surprised by our early evening visit. As he began asking us about our disc preferences and experiences and gave us a hint as to how many disc golfers he knew, we knew that he was a true disc golf connoisseur. Neither of us were looking to spend too much on frisbees, but we were hoping to leave with one or two discs. He was able to convince us--for a reasonable price--to purchase two all-purpose, mid-range discs (one blue Roc & one white with a VW label). As I handed him the money, I asked him his name and he replied, "Oh, I am Scotti." I retorted, "You're Scott?!?" I couldn't believe we had met the non-descript owner in the attic of his Italian restaurant. As Kaitlyn and I descended down the stairwell and departed the restaurant the same way we entered, we began smiling to ourselves. We realized how crazy and awesome this experience had been. Who would have thought frisbees and Italian cuisine would ever go together? I guess, Scotti does.

the Cleveland countdown...

as i prepare to graduate and begin a fresh chapter in my life, i am very aware of the tremendous impact that Cleveland--both its people and offerings--has had on my person. these past four years have been uniquely transformative and the beautiful people whom I have encountered have left an indelible imprint on my heart. for that, i am grateful. it is my intention to demonstrate my gratitude by highlighting 25 of my most memorable moments in Cleveland. without further adieu, i begin my tribute. i hope you enjoy!

iRun

please visit this event-specific blog (http://irunforjam.blogspot.com/) that i am literally building as i type, and click on the yellow-highlighted link at the bottom of the first post. you will find more information about a particular event in which i am currently invested.

if you can contribute to these worthy causes, great. if money is tight, no worries. please do all of my fellow runners and i a favor and pray for our health & safety on the morning/afternoon of sunday, may 15th.

in that same breath (they don't come as easily as they used to, after training for a half-marathon!), please send me an email with the name(s) of those for whom you would like me to RUN. i plan on running each mile for a different individual (i.e. child that i met in Jamaica, deceased loved ones, etc.). i would be more than happy to wear the name of your loved one literally on my sleeve, if you would like.

be healthy,
tk

thank goodness for tagless garments

#22 Eliminating those plastic thinga-ma-bobs that stem from your new shirt or pair of pants




This discarding process, which seems especially privy at this time of year, really shouldn't be as difficult as it oftentimes is. I think what makes it so challenging is the fact that after your intial clip or rip of the tag(s), sections of each tend to fall onto the floor or hide along the inside of your shirt or pants and thereby continue to harass you. For me, I just want to try on my new article of clothing without having to fidget with the annoying stickers, tags and plastic extensions that are poking at or itching me.

One of the craziest things about this nuisance (that I have experienced) is that if you happen to acquire a tagless garment, you begin thinking that an actual tag or plastic piece exists, and you start checking for it! It is like a disease that has taken over your mind! Oh, see here it is again. I'm shifting in my chair right now and trying to shake the itch free from my neck. It is like that feeling you get after you return from the hair salon or barber. So annoying...


Here's to fine fortune at finding your tags!