The Thirty-Three Minute Bandits

             A few days ago I was having lunch in the city at one of those bar/restaurant-type places which still had all its Christmas decorations up. The inside wasn't crowded at all; I was sitting alone at the bar, snacking on some potato pancakes, and there was a small group of six people at one of the tables. The group from the table seemed in good spirits and there was much giggling and laughing coming from that direction (perhaps with the help of alcohol). Two of the women from the table left the group and came over to where I was, which had more surrounding Christmas decorations, and asked if I could take a nice picture of them with the decorations in the background. Only only using one hand and leaning sideways on a bar chair, I snapped a picture that they were absolutely delighted with (also perhaps with the help of alcohol). The owner of the camera even made a comment that it looks like it was done by a professional photographer. Little did she know about the blog or anything, but she was halfway correct. More importantly, it made me realize that it been quite a while since I last had gone somewhere to take a ton of pictures.

             It didn't take me long to figure out where I should go to give my camera some strong exercise as I've been also thinking about the geese migrating down to this part of the Northeast, as they normally do each winter. A great place to encounter geese in large numbers is the river and pong alongside the Bronx River Parkway. I've passed by them millions of times in the car, but was long overdue for me to visit in person and see them up close. I wanted to get up there during the early part of the afternoon, but having to run a few errands first, I wasn't able to start my drive till about 2:30 pm. The day was already grey with on and off mists of rain, and with it being winter, I only had about two hours of daylight to work with. I kept going back and forth in my head whether it was too late in the day. With the grey sky, perhaps the geese had already flocked to their sleeping quarters. Since its not too far a drive, I figured to go ahead anyways and hoped for the best. The Hutchinson River Parkway was crawling as usual on a weekend day around that afternoon time, all the way to Exit 13, which I needed to take. Once I got on the Bronx River Parkway I wasn't sure which exit I should take for the pond since the river runs long across several different exit points. It's always best to get off a highway sooner, because you can always get back on, than it is to completely overshoot an exit and fuss over scrambling back. With that train of though, I drove off the first exit which took me to the Village of Bronxville. As soon I was off the parkway there was a public parking area with meters which was right next to the river I was seeking. It seemed like to good starting point, so I put two hours worth of quarters in the meter and begun my journey to find geese. It was only a few minutes after three in the afternoon, but the sky was growing darker, so I needed to hurry to savor whatever remaining daylight there was.

             I walked up to the river to see if I would have any immediately luck with finding any geese, instead I encountered a good samaritan who was walking around with a box to pick up pieces of trash discarded near the river's edge. There were no geese yet, but I did find a license plate which someone humorously nested in between some tree branches. After crossing a street I came upon the Bronx River's "official" ending point. Apparently there's a walking tour (The Bronx River Walk) with twenty-five stops of information, similar to the headsets they hand out in museums, and I was at number twenty-five, so technically I was walking in reverse. To download the app or receive more information on this walking tour, one has to visit the Information Center which is a couple of minutes more travel north the Bronx River Parkway. This is also the point where the walking tour would begin. It would've nice to actually get the headset or official guide to the river tour, but I didn't have the time for that - I needed to stick with the geese! The river was lively and the water was pushing hard downstream. Nothing powerful enough to go rafting with, but it certainly looked challenging enough for a goose to have to deal with. There were two mini-waterfalls, the source for the river's action up to this distance, but still no signs of any geese. Naturally, after the waterfalls the water becomes much calmer, and the river opens wider and forms a pond-like structure. I became concerned when I scanned around the pond and saw no geese anywhere in sight. When I pass by in a car it always seems like there's hundreds of the them around, but on this particular day that I go, the cupboard looks bare. There were a few joggers, some dog walkers, and one cyclist dangerously speeding back and forth passed everyone. My eye caught a turquoise green plaque implanted on a large rock up on a hill. I could see what it said, so I got my mountain climbing in and hustled upwards to see what it said. Weather and age had eroded it, but it mentioned something about the establishment of the Bronx River Parkway Reservation.

             As I've seen in some other places, there were still footprints of the damage caused by Hurricane Sandy in the form of trees snapped in half or completely uprooted. The Metro-North Harlem Line train runs parallel with the river, and with chopped-down branches, there's also spare rail parts dumped side-by-side. My fingers started getting cold and I was losing hope I would encounter any geese. Just then I saw what looked like one goose coming down the river. I couldn't be quite sure, so I sped up closer to the river to have a better look. Finally, I struck gold. Not only was there this one goose taking point, but there were four to five others behind it. I threw small sticks into the water so they would think it was food and come closer to me, but they weren't easily fooled. The real problem is that they were heading downstream and I was walking upstream. Yes, I could follow them, but there's no way to know if/when they would be getting out of the water, and where. At least it was a sign and geese where around and it wasn't too late in the day to find them. So I let that pack of geese go on there merry way and continued upstream, thinking there were more geese in ahead. For people walking their dogs, small bags are actually provided at different spots along the river for people to pick up after their dogs have completed the digestive process. After a few minutes of walking, I didn't find any more geese. There was a bridge for me to cross and start heading back, so with the sky continuing to darken, and my limbs getting colder, I figured I should head back. If anything, maybe I could catch up to that small pack of geese that breezed by me earlier. I go to cross the bridge and as I look down at the water, I see what appears to be a goose, but its head is green and its smaller in size. Then I realized, it was a duck. Not just one, there were two more resting on a rock by the side of the river. As I crept towards them, other ducks from afar must have though I had food. Before I even knew it, I had about ten ducks ganging up on me. They kept coming two at a time and once they were all together, they would form V-shaped and other types of patterns.

             Whatever type of initial disappointment I had with the geese, the ducks certainly picked up the slack and made the trip worth it. There was a teetering amount of daylight left, so in case the case the geese came out of the water to graze, I hurried back downstream to find them. My hunch paid off, by the side of the parkway I saw some geese plucking through the grass. I'm not sure if this was part of the same flock I saw heading downstream earlier, but it likely could've been. This is a bit of a dangerous area for the geese because some tend to venture too close to the roadway and there's no match for a speeding vehicle. Unfortunately, while driving there its common to see a few geese who openly challenged a vehicle and lost. They escape the frigid Canadian air, only to meet up with a tire. The closer I got to the geese, the more they would back up towards the parkway. I had to be careful to not to get too close and end up getting charged with second-degree goose homicide later on. I spend some time with them and then continued on my way. Much like the jester who positioned a license plate in the tree branches when I first arrived, I also saw a small girl's pink glove sticking on a branch's end. There would be one final treat courteous of the pond, I found another small flock of ducks congregated at a quiet section of the river. These ducks wouldn't let me get as close as the first group near the bridge did, and with darkness closing in, I bid them farewell and left river for the day. I could've went back home, but with the long walk and my body chilled, my stomach was calling for me to locate a bakery or coffee house for a hot cup of coffee and some type of dessert. Bronxville also had its Christmas decorations up along the streets and overall it was looking very "Christmassy". I had no idea for sure, but I figured there had to be an old fashioned bakery there somewhere, if not, I would settle for a Dunkin Donuts or a Starbucks. Early on I wasn't having much success, but there was an indoor BP gas station I found intriguing. I came upon one point where the village/town was cut in half by the Metro-North tracks. Perhaps there was a bakery across the way, but how would I get on the other side of the tracks?

              I turned my head to the right and found the answer: an underground walkway. How ingenious!! Not  only can pedestrians travel under the tracks this way, but there's also a street for vehicles to get to the other side. On the walls underneath both sides of this secret passageway displays the date 1916, the year the Bronxville station was built by the New York Central Railroad, aka New York Central, that phased out by 1968 and would become engulfed by the Metro-North system. Luckily I found this method to getting to the other side because not too long later I discovered Topps Bakery. There were two tables inside, so I liked the idea of being able to sit down to enjoy my coffee and snack. I couldn't decide what to get, a large slice of strawberry cheesecake was very enticing. Since I had a slice of lemon-meringue pie the day before, I needed to cool it on the calories, so I wound up taking a bear cookie with a giant "B" on it, likely for Bronxville. Soon as I make my purchase and wait for the coffee, I turn around and see both tables had been taken. One by two old ladies and the other by this guy who looks like he didn't buy anything inside the bakery. I should've put my sweater on one of the chairs as soon as I got in, but it didn't seem like any of the other people in there were aiming to sit. I had to take my cookie and coffee to go. At least it gave me something to do as I made my way back to the car. Then there was a moment which I knew I was destined to come to the river on this grey afternoon. Just before reaching the car, a random store window displayed a movie poster from the James Bond film "Moonraker" with Roger Moore in the lead role as Agent 007. With having met Roger Moore a few months ago at a book signing to promote "Bond on Bond" at a Barnes & Noble store in the city, and now seeing this Moonraker poster in the window of a Bronxville store, everything had come full circle!!

             When I arrived I had put two hours worth of quarters into the meter, but when I got back there were only thirty-three minutes left. Most of the other cars had left this parking area, but I wasn't looking to leave immediately. I wanted a minute to rest my legs for a before taking to the highways, but then all of a sudden I see this red mini-van pull up a few spots away to my right. A middle-aged woman got out of the passenger side door and began looking at the meters. It didn't take look to realize she was looking for a vacated parking spot that had time left on it's meter. She eventually came to my meter and found a goldmine of thirty-three minutes (probably a minute or two less by this point). Turning around to face her husband, most likely, she signaled the driver to get ready to take my spot as she must have assumed I was leaving right away. The mini-van backs out of its original spot and positions itself to take over my spot. I really wasn't looking to leave at that point, but the lady was still hovering around my meter. She never really looked at me, and I wasn't in the mood to try to communicate to her to find another spot, but instead of letting her wonder why some weirdo would want to hang out in a car parked by the side of a river as evening approached, I hit the ignition and took off.

             The length some people will go to save a few quarters.....

Time for a Superhero

             To say the busy corner outside where I live is extremely noisy would be the understatement of the century. In addition to the crackling of the subway tracks, there's racing 4x4 tow trucks with their high-powered engines, constant flow of emergency vehicles with loud sirens, loud trucks, horn-honking cars, and of course, the super-cool drivers who need to blast their car radio at full power so everyone within five miles knows that they're listening to Ludacris. I've become almost immune to all the outside racket as well as the loud TV noise under me from the elderly lady downstairs who is near deafness and has to have her volume on to the max. The only real unstoppable force which can't be reckoned with is a car alarm at night in which there's no other awakened sources of noise to help drown it out.

             A couple of months ago in the Fall I had one of these situations in which across the street there was a car parked and in the middle of the night, its alarm went off and continued into the sunrise hours of the morning. As a result, I nor likely anyone else within shouting distance was able to get any sleep that night. I find car alarms to be a complete waste and nothing more than a noise hazard for decent folk. Some alarms work the correct way in which they don't sound off unless the car is hit very hard, has its window broken, or gets forcefully opened. The problem is the bulk of these alarms sound off at the slightest vibration such as a passing truck or a gust of heavy wind. If the owner isn't aware that their alarm is going off, then that car is honking an beeping its brains out for who knows how long. There's no justice in these situations, the car owner can simply turn off their alarm from afar and there's no payback from the minutes or hours of noise pollution. In the Fall incident across the street, luckily a no-nonsense lady living across the street zeroed in on  the car and was waiting for its owner to return that morning to give him the business on how his vehicle was a  constant annoyance the whole night. I couldn't hear the entire exchange since I was half-asleep in bed from not getting a good night's sleep, but I heard her screaming a complaint in the ballpark of, "It was on all night and I couldn't get any sleep - I have to go to work in the mornings!!", something like that. I frequently see this lady screaming at other people for other things all the time, but this car alarm owner certainly deserved it. She has a mean-looking dog and I was somewhat hoping she would sic' em on the guy for making me have a sleepless night, but I guess the situation never got that out of hand.

             Last week there was a night in which the weather was a little nasty. Nothing too crazy, the rain was nothing more than a light mist, but the winds where very strong. Outside I heard recycling cans getting knocked over, causing bottles and cans to clinked their way down the streets. Heavy winds howled against my windows and once in a while the entire building would vibrate. It reminded me alot of those two long days from about two months ago during Hurricane Sandy. Just like that time, the weather conditions knocked out my cable and Internet connection. Through the evening the cable would try to fight its way back, but then after a few minutes it would just go out again. The Internet showed no signs of life at all and never even made an attempt to come back. Without television, I entertained myself a by watching some old episodes from the television show "Columbo". It was roughly 11:00 pm while I was still watching an episode when I first heard a car alarm sounding off. With the heavy winds and objects been thrown all around outside, I wasn't the least bit surprised, but I figured it would shut off in a minute or two. Ten minutes go by, then twenty, but the alarm kept going. This alarm was centralized around a honking horn and flashing lights. I kept hope the owner would eventually find out and shut it off, but it wasn't stopping. It got so irritating to the point that I couldn't watch the Columbo anymore and my only other choice was to try to go to bed. I knew it would be impossible to be able to fall asleep with the constant racket just had it been back in the Fall, but I tried nevertheless. After about fifteen minutes of tossing and turning the noise was drilling into my head and there was no way I was going to be able to fall asleep.

             Curious on which vehicle was responsible for the noise pollution, I left my bed and returned to my livingroom to look out the window. There it was - a late-90's model white jeep with flashing lights. Worst of all; as the night grew on, at certain points the alarm would turn off for thirty seconds, giving a false hope that the nightmare was over, then all of a sudden it would start up its cadence again. It was about 2:00 am at this point, the alarm was still going strong, and I was surprised nobody at this point had called the cops (or smashed the window with a brick). The jeep was right in front of someone's home, I couldn't understand how they were able to put up with three hours of pure torture. There was no way I was able to fall asleep with this thing, apparently nobody else was going to call the cops to complain, and I myself had no interest calling any police, so I thought of the next best thing: 7-11. Down the block there's a 7-11 convenience store open 24/7 and there's always at least one NYPD squad car there in the parking lot while the officers are inside getting coffee, Red Bull, and a bottle of water. People stereotypically think cops always take their breaks at Dunkin Donuts or other donut-related businesses, but the best place to most likely find a cop is a 7-11 store. Every time I'm in there I see them, as well as FDNY EMS workers. It seems like the cool hang-out spot for emergency workers. My plan was to walk over there and if there were cops around, I would tell them about the never-ending alarm so there would deal with the matter (with towing it away the ideal solution).

             I slipped on my jacket and began the walk to 7-11. The rain was all about gone and the winds had died down, but the heartbeat of the alarm was still pumping strong. As I walked passed it I stared at it with all the hatred in the world. I probably could've found something to smash the window with and likely would've gotten away with it, but ultimately you never know who's looking out their window, even if it was 2:00 am in the morning. If the car was keeping me up at night and looking out the window for the culprit, I had to imagine there could be others. Even though my effort would likely be received with applause, there's always the risk of an informer, so I felt it was best for the authorities to handle it. Once I reached 7-11 I saw there were no police cars in the parking lot, to my disappointment. I went inside anyways just to make sure and the store was empty, except for two employees. I didn't want them to think I was crazy, so I bought a bottle of iced tea and was back on my way home to decide upon my next method of attack. I passed by the jeep again and gave the rock-to-window option another thought, but had just been recorded on the surveillance camera from inside 7-11 from buying the iced tea, I would be a suspect of people in the area at the time of any incident. A good sleuth like Columbo would've been able to track down a window-breaker that way, so now that option was completely off the table.

             While I sipped on my iced tea, I considered whether I should call the police or not. My cable and Internet were still out, so I couldn't look up the phone number of the local police precinct. The official number for noise complaints is 311, but I always felt 311 was for more long-term solutions, just as a constant noisy neighbor or a nearby construction site. I needed short-term relief and this was way too small a crime to dial 911 for. I went with the middle ground and decided upon calling the police station so there can determine where a car alarm weighs on their emergency scale. Without Internet, I dialed 411 on my phone to find out the number for the precinct. When I called it I expected to reach a desk officer or some type of switchboard operator (human), but instead I heard an instructional recording to the tune of, "Press One for Domestic Disturbance-Press Two for Robbery........". There was a mentioning of noise complaints and it said I should call 311 for that. I had a feeling they would make me call 311 eventually, so instead of trying to speak with someone at the station and wasting further time, I hung up on the police station call and dialed 311. After selecting English as my language to continue in and pressing a few other options, I finally found myself communicating with a human being. The time was roughly 2:30 am. The lady operator asked me to confirm my phone number and the spelling of my last name. After providing her with my complaint, she actually apologized that I was being disturbed and informed me that Mayor Bloomberg is on the cusp of putting law into effect that will ban car alarms within city limits, which sits just fine with me. I have to say the operator was very friendly and courteous. She told me she was going to transfer me to 911 so they could  take immediate action. Although I would be happy about the immediate action part, I felt a little leery about getting involved with a 911 emergency, that's usually for life or death situations. I never been on a 911 call before, and there was no turning back now.

             The 311 operator had me on hold (although I was allowed to listen in) while she connected with a 911 operator (also a female). Both operators identified themselves by their serial numbers and I was finally turned over to the 911 lady. I specified that it wasn't actually a "911 emergency", but told her about the evil jeep anyways. She ran through the same phone number and last name confirmations, plus asked me for a description of the noisy vehicle. She told a police car was on its way, but I really took that with a grain of salt. I felt there was no way a cop car was coming anytime soon for just a car alarm. Perhaps by the morning if two or three other neighbors also complained, but not right now. Once the call was over, I mean within seconds of hanging up the phone, the jeep's car alarm started to fade out. The alarm went from a loud honk to a muffled hum. Then after a few seconds of humming, the noise from the alarm completely died out!! All that was left was the jeep's flashing lights. I'm guessing what happened that after three and a half hours of the alarm sounding off, the acoustics must have finally fizzled out. That, or the 911 operator destroyed the alarm with freakish psychic powers. I was happy in some regards that the torture was over, but what if the cops actually arrive? With no more noisy alarm, it could seem as if I filed a false 911 report. Instead of seeking out the owner of the jeep, the cops would be after me, and they certainly had my name and phone number to track down. Worst of all, there would be no justice against the owner of this jeep. I wanted the cops to see this noisy vehicle for themselves while the alarm was at full strength, and either use their nightsticks to break a window in order to get inside and turn the alarm off, or tow it away at the expense of the owner having to pay for the towing-fee of about three hundred dollars.

             My eyes were peeled out the window to see if the cops where going to pass by, and what would they do if they showed up. The front and back lights of the jeep kept flashing, so at the very least the cops should be able to determine that the complaint isn't completely wrong. About a good twelve minutes after I hung up with 911 and the alarm died out, I saw a pair of bright headlights slowly approach from down the street. I had a feeling it was coming from an oncoming cop car canvassing the area, and I was correct! It was a NYPD squad car and it drove at a slow pace until it reached parallel with the parked jeep, where it stopped. With the description of the jeep and its lights still flashing, they must have known that was the vehicle in question. The cops didn't get out of their vehicle, they didn't check the license plate or registration on the jeep's front window. After a few seconds of pause, the cop car carried on until they reached the corner, in which it made a large U-turn and returned from which the direction they came. They didn't give the jeep a second look when passing it again, they just disappeared down the block and were gone.

             They came from the direction of 7-11 and towards 7-11 they returned....

Tuning Out the Current Events

             Christmas shopping is an enjoyable activity, but it can get complicated and drawn out if not planned correctly. This year I wanted to do all my holiday shopping in one big swoop at one mall during one afternoon. In addition to the shopping, I also enjoy a mall experience that includes a nice eatery, not the typical food court options of McDonald's and Sbarro, but something that resembles a sit-in restaurant. Combining all these factors with a wide variety of places to shop for gift ideas, my choice was the Palisades Mall, officially known as the Palisades Center, up in West Nyack.

             As Christmas was drawing nearer, holiday crowds at shopping areas were piling up, so my plan was to go during the middle of a weekday when a good amount of people would still be at work or in school. It was a grey afternoon as my journey began, dark clouds above release tiny rain drops from the sky. Luckily the roads and highways were quite free of other motorists and my trip there took less than an hour. I started off with the I-95, which cost me $1.75 worth of quarters at the toll booth. Then I switched over to the I-287 West that took me over the Tappan Zee Bridge and across the scenic route of the mountainous Hudson River Valley. One of the biggest problems with the Palisades, especially during a busy shopping time such as this, is finding parking. There's outdoor parking and a garage underneath. When I first started going to the Palisades I would always head for the underground parking and would have to circle around in my car for twenty minutes until a spot would finally open up. Lately, I've been having more luck finding a spot outside much quicker, so this time I was going to stay on the outside and try my luck with what had been working. I was one block away stuck at a red light when I scanned the massive lot looking for any openings. Just then, I saw a jeep pull out, but I was still stuck at the light and helpless to take it. There were at least four vehicles ahead of me, I was hoping none of them noticed it. One by one they each foolishly drove ahead to the underground lot, so I jolted ahead and took the open spot once the light turned green. It was a new personal speed record for finding a place to park at the Palisades.

             One of the most noticing features of the Palisades when I first saw it was it's carpeted flooring. I've always been used to malls having hard flooring, but when I first laid eyes on the carpet of the Palisades, it was like I was in another world. The rugged flooring is still there, and after a number of spilled sodas and dirt stains, its carrying on. Since it was the Holiday Season there was a Santa Claus area for kids to meet and greet Kris Kringle, or be scarred out of their pants by, but at the hour I arrived he wasn't on duty yet. The mall was decorated with holiday ornaments and there were several large Christmas trees standing tall. It was still around lunchtime and I just had the drive, so before shopping I wanted to go to the top floor where the restaurants were to have a nice bite to eat. When I reached the floor I saw a bunch of old pictures along the wall which I never really noticed before. Most of them had to do with historical aspects of the Nyack area and with the construction of the Tappan Zee Bridge. I would've like to study them a little more, but I was hungry and wanted to get my shopping completed before the major crowds started swarming in. I did a quick sweep of the options which included Chili's, TGI-Fridays, Dave & Buster's, Buffalo Wild Wings, some Japanese place, and then I saw Stir Crazy. I passed it a dozens times previously and had always wanted to know what it was about. There's a picture of a bowl of noodles on the logo, so I figured it had something to do with Chinese or Thai food, which was good enough for me, so without checking out any other places, I went with going Stir Crazy.

              I was by myself, so as usual in these cases I went to sit at the bar area instead of taking up a whole table just for myself. To start I ordered a mango margarita, which was served frozen, then for the meal I selected the lunch Market Bar (there's also a dinner version as well). What Market Bar is that instead of ordering a standard dish, you select a meat and either rice or noodle, then from there you create your own plate from vegetables and other ingredients, you bring it to the cooks, and they stir fry it for you in a wok pan right in front of your eyes. Basically, you're creating your own dish and monitoring it so nobody sneezes in your food unknowingly. There's a line of chefs, about four of them working at once, frying up the pans with large flames shooting up in the air. There's a sign warning patrons to stand back from the glass, and after the first flame explodes into the sky, you understand why. I picked tofu and flat noodles, and then decorated my pan with onions, peppers, mini-corn, peanuts, and some kind of brown sauce/oil. In less than five minutes my meal was finished and I was able to take it back to the bar to eat. By this time a family had taken seats nearby my bar stool. It was a young couple with a small girl who could've have been more than five or six years old. It seemed as if there were waiting for a take-out order, but in the meantime they had the girl plopped up on a stool next to me and bending her elbow to a small carton of Pepperidge Farm Goldfish. I'm pretty sure by law a minor, especially of that age, shouldn't be allowed to sit there with bottles of alcohol only a few feet away. I couldn't really enjoy my mango margarita because I felt like I was at a Chucky E. Cheese's or something. I picked away at my food and had to wait almost ten minutes till the family left before I was to make bigger strides with my drink.

             Once I was done with my lunch and drink at Stir Crazy, instead of immediately going to shop, I wanted to see what other restaurants I might've missed on the floor. I was filled with regret when I saw that they had opened an IHOP (International House of Pancakes) inside the place. How I wished I knew that sooner. I've been wanting to go to an IHOP for a very long time, but they never seem to be around when you need one. Had I known once had opened up at the Palisades, I would've certainly selected that over Stir Crazy. If the IHOP update wasn't amazing enough, right next to it and coming soon they're going to open up a Red Robin!!! I've been in search of a Red Robin and it seems the closest one to date had been out in Long Island, a place I usually get lost driving in with the variety of Sunken Brook and Middle Brook highways that lead to nowheresville. Knowing a Red Robin will be accessible at the Palisades is a vital piece of information for future action. My tofu and noodle lunch went down fine, but what was missing was that final touch of some type of sweets for dessert. Also on this floor was a Cold Stone Creamery with it's many loaded-with-fat ice cream flavors. The girl behind the counter saw I has my eye on their new salted caramel flavor, so she provided me with a sample spoon's worth to taste test. I found it to be too salty, so I just went with a small cup of banana-strawberry sorbet (no fat) to play it safe.

             Along with stores, restaurants, an ice skating rink, a bowling ally, an IMAX theater, and carpeted floors, what also makes the Palisades more than the usual mall experience is their numerous rides and adventures. The new one this time is their Palisades Climb Adventure for fourteen dollars. It's a contraption that is about as high as the mall itself in which brave climbers strap a harness around their waist and climb down a man-made mountain. I must say it was quite tempting, but something about it wrecked of those carnivals rides that fall apart midway through and launch a rider to the moon. Plus, ever since the shaky Sky Ride I took on the Jersey Shore back in July, I've been queasy of heights and didn't need to lose my lunch in front of a packed mall of holiday shoppers. I put the Palisades Climb out of my mind and got down to the business at hand. I went through a couple of stores and bought a few gifts, but something was bothering me. Although I had the sorbet for dessert, it really didn't hit the spot, I needed more!! Then it occurred to me, the mall also has a Cheesecake Factory. As much as I regretted not going to IHOP which I knew nothing about previously, I regretted not going to the Cheesecake Factory in which I did know about beforehand. Since I'm a cheesecake fan, I asked myself how did I ever go this long without visiting this place? The only slice I ever had from them was from a Barnes-n-Noble that sells their goods in the cafe area, along with Starbuck's own coffee. I really wasn't aiming to eat a heavy slice of cheesecake, so I told myself, if they have one that has something to do with red velvet, I'll get it, if not, I'll turn around and walk out. I was hoping they would have some type of area where I could sit and just have a slice of cake and coffee. When I looked inside it seemed to be more of a restaurant than a diner setting, and even though they had a bar area, it just didn't fit sitting down and only having cake. My only other option was the take-out line.

             I walked up to the display glass and saw all the different types of cheesecakes available. My eyes darted upwards and downwards, left to right, and there it was with only two slices left - red velvet cheesecake. The first time I remember having this was back in 2007 or 2008 at the Junior's Restaurant up at the Foxwoods Casino in Connecticut. Although, earlier this year I went to the original Junior's in Brooklyn and they didn't have it. The second time I had this combo was towards the beginning of this year at the Riverdale Diner. It tasted alright, but when the server sliced it, the cake came out all busted up on the plate. The slice I had at Foxwoods was firm and put together picturesquely. The Cheesecake Factory charged over eight dollars for this slice, but they at least put it in a fancy plastic container and gave me a nice bag to carry it in, so I didn't mind paying a few extra bucks for the ambiance. Since there was nowhere to eat it inside, I had to sit down at a mall bench and dig in there. Like what happened at the Riverdale Diner, and since it was to-go, the slice was all busted up again in the container. It did taste better than the Riverdale version, but overall I think I would've enjoyed it more had I been able to sit a a nice table inside the restaurant and had a cup of coffee to go with it. The whole experience of cramming it down at a mall bench with a bunch of shopping bags next to me took some of the taste away.

             It was back to shopping and my next stop was at Dick's Sporting Goods, which is like a Modell's or Sports Authority on steroids. This was my first time in one ever and at the Palisades they actually take up two floors with their  multitude of merchandise. Dick's gets into the real hardcore sporting stuff, whereas the other places just branch as far as yoga mats and hockey sticks. What I was quite stunned to see the NXT Shotgun for kids out on display. Granted it only shoots foam bullets, but a week after the school shooting tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown, CT, one would think an item like that would be pulled from the shelves out of respect and/or courtesy in dealing with children. After scratching my head over that one, I looked up and saw a crowd gathered at a corner section of the store, so I went over to check out what the commotion was about. I should've guessed - people were there to look at the real big-boy guns. There were rifles, shotguns, and the accessories to go with them for stocking stuffers. Laws on Gun Control are going to be the hot item for the next fifteen minutes, but in the meantime people continue to flock towards these "tools" and stare at them with awe. I can understand the real guns still being sold since that's a business and Guns Rights issue, but I'm surprised the store management didn't decide to pull the toy guns for a few weeks with what's going on currently in the news. Maybe Dick's just tuned it out, and with firearms sales raking in $60 billion a year for US gun manufacturers, they'll likely tune it out as well.

             By this time my shopping was just about completed and fatigue was setting in from the three hours of eating and walking around with heavy bags on my wrists. I knew it would be dark outside and I had the drive back home to deal with. I needed a little pep to add to my step, so when I walked by a Haagen-Dazs stand, my eye caught the advertisement for an eighty-nine cents cup of coffee. I had six dollars left in my wallet; a five and a single. I would be able to use my single for this business transaction. I was expecting some type of specialty Haagen-Dazs brand of coffee, but all they had brewing was some generic mud you get at a corner store deli or bodega. Worst than that actually, this tasted like brown water. It was self-serve and there was sugar there, but when I asked the lady behind the counter for milk, she first looked at me like I was crazy. Then after a few seconds she caught onto the concept of coffee and milk and went into the mini-fridge to hand me a half-gallon carton. I walked a few yards away from the stand to take a few sips, and it was absolutely horrible. I'm not sure if that coffee pot was sitting out all day (or all week) or maybe they didn't put enough coffee ground bean into the machine, but it just tasted like water. I threw it into the garbage after only drinking up twenty-five percent of the cup. What ever Haagan-Dazs does in the future, they should certainly stay away from coffee. I took that as a sign that it was time to leave the Palisades for the day. I had completed my mission of getting all my Christmas shopping done and even found time to slip in a red velvet cheesecake. The toll getting back after crossing the Tappan Zee going east took away my five-dollar bill and left my wallet empty of any cash.

              Late December would be quite a bore without Christmas....