I recently overheard several people remark that as we progress further into the fall season, they are "relieved" that we no longer have to worry about a serious hurricane or tropical storm impacting our area here in Broad Channel. I don't want to be a Debbie Downer but, truth be told, it is still a tad too early for any of us to be breaking out into our "happy" dance just yet. During most years, around this point in October, atmospheric conditions begin to change near North America that tend to inhibit tropical storm formation and keep those tropical storms that do manage to fire up away from our area. Unfortunately, this season, conditions will remain favorable for tropical storms and hurricanes to form for several more weeks.
Additionally, as post-summer warmth has persisted over much of the southern and eastern United States this month, so too will the potential for additional tropical storms and hurricanes to form and track near populated areas. Bottom line? Although the odds are against any significant storm impact as we approach the end of this year's hurricane season, we should all keep in mind that, back in 2012, a tropical depression developed late in the season (on October 22nd) down in the Caribbean, which ultimately became Superstorm Sandy! Besides, once the 2017 hurricane season is behind us, we can all sit back, fire up our home heating systems, and keep our eyes peeled for the first 2017-2018 Winter Nor'easter season to appear.
The Mayor's office recently announced the allocation of $7 million dollars towards the restoration of Sunset Cove in Broad Channel. Kudos to both Dan Mundy Sr. and Jr., Broad Channel's very own "A" Team," which has worked long and hard to ensure the clean-up and environmentally sound restoration of the 12 acre parcel of land on the marsh islands of Jamaica Bay (formerly known as Schmitt’s Marina), which was acquired by the Parks Department back in 2009. I have been told by a reliable source that Dan Mundy Jr. was recently spotted on his back deck quoting Colonel John 'Hannibal' Smith to no one in particular, "I love it when a plan comes together!"
And now time for something completely different. Admittedly, when it comes to food I am no gourmand but recently Grace and the girls took me over to Belle Harbor for brunch at the Pico Kitchen and Cantina on Beach 129th street where I thoroughly enjoyed my meal consisting of a Jumbo Lump Crab Cake covered with sunny side eggs, home fries and a hollandaise sauce. Grace and my daughter, Amy were also all smiles as they enjoyed their favorite, panko crusted french toast with caramelized bananas, whipped cream and maple syrup. I also got a big kick out of the use of Patron Silver Tequila bottles as each table's water carafe. A pleasant ambiance, reasonable prices, terrific food and friendly service have guaranteed Pico as a place on the Mahon clan's go-to list of establishments for our Sunday brunch excursions.
Recently I have been become aware of grumblings among members of the clan regarding certain behaviors on my part as I get older. "You have abused your knees and back to the point that you can now only hobble about stiffly with aid of a cane which, by the way, you have become so attached to you actually named it 'Ivan'...that's just plain creepy!”
Due diligence requires that I admit I have spent several years under the care of a chiropractor assisting with his children's college educations, undergone two back operations, endured multiple cortisone shots in my knees, had my gall bladder removed, a rather hefty hernia tucked back in and repaired, and, just for good measure, sustained a mini stroke (transient ischemic attack: (TIA). Considering that a good part of my youth was spent happily (stupidly?) jumping out of planes and helicopters while playing with the rest of Uncle Sam's Misguided Children (USMC), I actually think I am still ahead of the curve. OK, the curve may be pointing downward but I'm still ahead of it.
As far as naming my cane "Ivan" being creepy is concerned..."Ivan" originally belonged to my sainted Irish mother who made it all the way to 98 years of age before departing this mortal coil to put in a few good words with St. Peter in order to ensure that when her favorite (only?) son's time came that my heavenly arrival did not result in an immediate transfer for points further south! In the interim, I choose to follow Mom's sage advice that since there is no escaping the sundry ills that are quietly sitting out there just waiting to take a bite of our butts as we age, we might as well just stop our complaining, pick one we like and stick to it!
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