Since 2005, I have had help on weekends from someone in Hudson. First it was Christopher and we worked together for two or three years and then it was Christopher and Eddie. But when Christopher started waiting tables on weekends at the Dot, he fell away and then Eddie got another job and Eddie’s younger brother, Nick, took over.
About that time, Nick Stuart, came into my life and our friendship blossomed. So when differentiating the various Nicks in my life, I started calling the Nick who helped me “Young Nick.”
He has loyally stayed with me since he started. One year I thought I had lost him to the Carnival circuit when he left town with the people who do the rides at County Fairs after he had worked the Columbia County Fair. Somewhere in Connecticut, he tired of the Carnie life and came back home.
He is twenty-three now, has two daughters and is no longer “Young Nick” though I still call him that sometimes. He has two daughters. I was at the christening of his first daughter, Alicia, and he has asked me to be the godfather to his second daughter, Lettie. His father helps me out too and I’ve become friendly with his family. When one of his brothers got married, they asked me to the wedding. Martin, his father, has even given me a hug. I’ve been told that just doesn’t happen. But it did last Christmas.
Today, “Young Nick” was here with his friend Giovanni, freshly back from Florida, straightening up and bringing the cottage back to “tickety boo” as my other friend Nick would say. “Young Nick” has been absent for two weeks, dealing with other jobs that were more demanding than my needs so things were getting rough. Now they’re not.
When I was sick in February, it was Nick who came and took me to the hospital, getting to my house in half the time it usually takes. At Christmas, when I am doing my Christmas quiches for the neighbors, Nick acts as my sous chef. He has helped at my parties. Now regular guests expect to see him here and ask regularly about how he is doing.
He is much more than a person who helps out. He is part of that extended “family of choice” as we go through life. I feel very avuncular toward him. He has grown up in front of me, week after week. It has been quite amazing to watch. It has, indeed, been a privilege.
Right now my house glistens; my yard, such as it is, is perfect. He and his father, Martin, redecorated my bathroom, installed my new appliances, have fixed a plethora of broken objects in my home. He repainted my living and dining room, in one week, while I was in the city. When I returned, it was done to perfection and everything was back exactly where it had been.
When I started writing tonight, I didn’t mean to make a paean to “Young Nick” but sitting in the freshly fluffed house and yard, I have been overcome by my gratitude to have this person in my life.
Since 2005, I have had help on weekends from someone in Hudson. First it was Christopher and we worked together for two or three years and then it was Christopher and Eddie. But when Christopher started waiting tables on weekends at the Dot, he fell away and then Eddie got another job and Eddie’s younger brother, Nick, took over.
About that time, Nick Stuart, came into my life and our friendship blossomed. So when differentiating the various Nicks in my life, I started calling the Nick who helped me “Young Nick.”
He has loyally stayed with me since he started. One year I thought I had lost him to the Carnival circuit when he left town with the people who do the rides at County Fairs after he had worked the Columbia County Fair. Somewhere in Connecticut, he tired of the Carnie life and came back home.
He is twenty-three now, has two daughters and is no longer “Young Nick” though I still call him that sometimes. He has two daughters. I was at the christening of his first daughter, Alicia, and he has asked me to be the godfather to his second daughter, Lettie. His father helps me out too and I’ve become friendly with his family. When one of his brothers got married, they asked me to the wedding. Martin, his father, has even given me a hug. I’ve been told that just doesn’t happen. But it did last Christmas.
Today, “Young Nick” was here with his friend Giovanni, freshly back from Florida, straightening up and bringing the cottage back to “tickety boo” as my other friend Nick would say. “Young Nick” has been absent for two weeks, dealing with other jobs that were more demanding than my needs so things were getting rough. Now they’re not.
When I was sick in February, it was Nick who came and took me to the hospital, getting to my house in half the time it usually takes. At Christmas, when I am doing my Christmas quiches for the neighbors, Nick acts as my sous chef. He has helped at my parties. Now regular guests expect to see him here and ask regularly about how he is doing.
He is much more than a person who helps out. He is part of that extended “family of choice” as we go through life. I feel very avuncular toward him. He has grown up in front of me, week after week. It has been quite amazing to watch. It has, indeed, been a privilege.
Right now my house glistens; my yard, such as it is, is perfect. He and his father, Martin, redecorated my bathroom, installed my new appliances, have fixed a plethora of broken objects in my home. He repainted my living and dining rooms, in one week, while I was in the city. When I returned, it was done to perfection and everything was back exactly where it had been.
When I started writing tonight, I didn’t mean to make a paean to “Young Nick” but sitting in the freshly fluffed house and yard, I have been overcome by my gratitude to have this person in my life.
Letter from the Vineyard 
Letter From Claverack 04 04 2017 Musings from yesterday…
April 4, 2017It is dusk on the day that seemed to say: Spring is here, for real. Walking around today as I did errands, I was jacketless and soon, I thought, I will be wearing shorts. All day today, I felt a letter happening in me.
It is an interesting time for me. My work for the Miller Center for the Presidency is on pause while they work out budgets for the coming year. It maybe I will be part of it and it may be that I will not. To be decided.
The guest bathroom is being repainted and today I went and picked up the new medicine chest and lighting at Lowe’s. The inside of the car was vacuumed and the winter’s gunk washed mostly away. It needs a good detailing which will happen soon now that I have found a place in Greenport.
This time of day is brilliant. Outside it is pearl grey, inside jazz plays and a martini is sipped. The creek floodlights are on and it is all good and hygge.
Just finished watching my friend Medora Heilbron’s vlog about matzo place cards for Passover! It was a treat, watch here.
All this is very comforting on a day when the Los Angeles Times published a scathing review of the first days of Trump’s presidency. You can read it here. It is the kind of editorial about a President that hasn’t been seen since the 1970’s. Yes, since Nixon.
At 4:31 AM our President tweeted about whether Hillary had apologized for having been giving questions prior to one of the town halls. Yes, that was wrong. It’s over, Mr. Trump. You are now the President. You won. Move on, please. Please.
Are you capable of moving on?
Not moving on will be the people killed in a Metro explosion in St. Petersburg, Russia. A bomb went off on a train, killing, at last count, eleven, and injuring dozens. St. Petersburg is on my bucket list. Over the years, I’ve read a lot about the city and feel a connection to it. I will hold a thought and prayer in my heart for them tonight.
And for all the people who are facing starvation in Yemen and South Sudan and…
For all of them, I lit candles this week at church. As well as young Nick, who continues struggling.
The web of Trump’s Russian connections keeps getting murkier with Erik Prince, a Trump supporter and founder of the infamous Blackwater Group, apparently having a meeting in January, days before the inauguration, with Russian contacts in the Seychelles. Now this was reported by the Washington Post, a liberal newspaper but a credible one.
Along with every thinking person, I am finding this fascinating. What is going on rivals, or equals, the Nixon years. And Nixon was six years into his presidency when Watergate bit him in the you know where.
We’re not much more than seventy days into this presidency and the storm is not going to abate.
John McCain, whom I did not vote for nor would have considered voting for considering his choice for Vice President, but for whom I have respect, has been saying things like this is the most concerned he’s ever been about the state of our democracy.
And I agree. With Nixon, one had a sense the system was working. Right now, I am not sure the system is working. And that scares the hell out of me.
Tags:Blackwater Group, Donald Trump, Erik Prince, Greenport, Hillary Clinton, Hygge, John McCain, Los Angeles Time editorial, Medora Heilbron, Miller Center, Nick Dier, Nixon, Seychelles, South Sudan, St. Petersburg, technology, theaters, Trump, Watergate, Yemen
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