A Parade of Homes that winds through the cul-de-sac of very big dreams

Every year at this time, they open the doors of a stretch of spanking new houses in Central New York and allow the world inside. Dreamers welcome. Big dreamers, especially. It’s called the Parade of Homes, and the only strict rule is that you must pull on the white, don’t-scuff-the-floor, disposable booties they hand everybody…

Remember radio commercial makers, we’re listening while driving the car

Two little beefs to note as we get ready to ring in this autumn-is-coming weekend in Syracuse. Nope, they have nothing to do with falling temperatures. This time around, at least. Welcome back, Grumpus. Today I’ve got to gripe about the stuff they put on the soundtrack of radio commercials. I’m driving in my car,…

It’s that special week when golf ends and bowling begins

It’s overlap week for me. It happens once a year, but only if the two schedules fall just right. Out with the golf league. In with the bowling league. Two days separate the end and the beginning. I’m glad that the days fall in a way that the finish comes before the start. When the…

We wind up our New York State Fair 2013, and I get to talk to the goats

I checked off the last of my boxes Sunday as my dear wife Karen and I walked our way around the New York State Fair. My first two 2013 excursions were concentrated around the music at Chevy Court, and the shows by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals and Vince Gill both lived up to my…

As skunk season returns, I begin to wrinkle my nose and fret

As soon as I opened the back door to let Ellie B out to the backyard to do her morning thing, the scent hit me. Faint, this time. But as distinct in my mind as a slap to the face. Skunks are back in my Syracuse city neighborhood. Or maybe a skunk, singular. I surely…

I get the digital postcard and remember when it took a stamp and days of waiting

Remember the golden age of postcards? Somebody you loved traveled to a faraway place. It could be an hour down the road by car. It could be at the end of days of travel by plane. The physical distance wasn’t the thing. It was the emotional separation that sparked the words scribbled on the back…

This ‘Come on Down’ moment features a wild surf through the crowd’s hands

Here’s a big, new entry into my you-know-you’re-getting-old file. Yes, it tops the fact that last time through the Mickey D’s drive-in during breakfast hours, I ordered oatmeal. A morning news show just broadcast a YouTube clip from venerable game show “The Price Is Right” that’s gaining much traction. It was so shocking that I…

It’s New York State Fair time, love it or hate it. I’m going opening night

You don’t find many people who live around Syracuse that put their hands palm up to gesture take-it-or-leave-it come New York State Fair time. The citizens of Central New York more likely fall into two distinct groups when the 12 days of midway, music, exhibitions, animals, food and drink descend upon the fairgrounds in Geddes,…

It’s no longer an anniversary, but it’s still a good day to take stock

Thirty years ago today, I walked into the offices of the morning paper in Syracuse and started working. With words. With people. With ideas. With the Central New York community. Every Aug. 15 since, I’d throw in a mental fist pump to mark another anniversary. I’d reserve a moment to take stock of my working…

Mid-August in Central New York: Time to have the long sleeves available

If you live in Central New York, you know that every year at this time, an after-dinner snap in the air may arrive. Last night, the little chill hit us on the golf course. We start our Tuesday evening nine-hole league play between 5 and 5:30. Some of our gang of six planned ahead with…

	beth on Rise high, strawberry moon
	Nancy on Rise high, strawberry moon
	Nancy on Wasn’t it only yesterday?
	beth on Wasn’t it only yesterday?
	TheHappyQuitter on Welcome, summer sunset

Mark Bialczak

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