Remembering a first, and last

One of the most thoughtful things my mother did for me was take me to my first major league baseball game.  It was on August 14, 1965, right around the time of her birthday.

She realized that summer that her two school-age sons had discovered the joys of the American pastime.  My brother Lou and I had started collecting baseball cards, watching games on TV, and playing ball with friends in the neighborhood.  My mother had acquired an interest in baseball while being raised in Cuba, and was pleased to see her kids doing the same growing up in New York.

The Yankees were hosting the Kansas City Athletics that afternoon. Our family's loyalties were divided between the Mets and Yankees, but the fact the reigning American League champions were hosting a bat giveaway at Yankee Stadium on a Saturday afternoon convinced my mom it was a great opportunity to take me, my brother and Uncle John to live major league baseball.

Until that point, my only images of baseball stadiums were in newspapers, magazines, television and baseball cards -- only the latter in color.  You can imagine how awestruck 9-year-old Charlito was ascending the subway station stairs to see The House That Ruth Built in all its splendor in front of him. I was given my first baseball bat, a wooden Hillerich & Bradsby Tom Tresh model, as I passed the turnstile.  We found our cheap seats far away from the infield, and I still remember the home run by Roger Repoz, Whitey Ford's good pitching, and the Yankees winning in the bottom of the ninth inning.

Life was never quite the same afterwards. My mother remarried less than two years later, our family moved in late 1967 to Bloomfield, New Jersey, where she raised my younger brother and sister and usually found herself too busy or tired to enjoy live major league baseball.  All the while, however, my passion for baseball continued to burn.

In the summer of 2011, with all her kids long grown up and out of the house, my mother surprised us by expressing enthusiasm with the idea of taking a ferry from the Jersey shore to Citi Field to watch the Mets.  Our family pounced at the prospect of accompanying her to another major league baseball game.

She enjoyed the ferry ride immensely, marveling at the view of the city from New York Harbor and the East River.  After the ferry docked at the marina by Citi Field, my wife, dad and father-in-law made our way with her way slowly by foot to the new Mets ballpark.  Unlike my first time at a major league game, I don't remember any particulars from these nine innings.  I do recall my mother enjoyed the game from our upper deck seats, and our family accompanied her back to the ferry afterwards for the ride back to the Jersey shore.  The day exhausted her, but for months afterwards she kept telling us what a great time she had and how she looked forward to doing it again.

It wasn't to be.  My mother passed away the following winter after complications from heart surgery.

Today, on her birthday, I'm remembering fondly the day she took me to my first major league baseball game.  I'm also thinking of that late summer day two years ago when I was with her for her last, and wishing she was still with us.

The bicycle rack

They're built by people in shops around the world,

often by those who use them for daily transportation.

They're shipped to ports in different countries,

and sold in stores in cities, towns and villages.

Some buy them to get to work every day,

others to do their shopping and errands.

Some have them to get serious exercise,

others for leisurely rides through scenic paths.

Bicycles find themselves together in racks

at places like New York City or Long Branch NJ.

They can sit idle for hours or just minutes,

and sprint through traffic or roll slowly by the sea.

Some have thin tires, others fat.

A few have baskets, occasionally a bell.

Some are black, some are white,

they are also red or yellow or pink.

But they're all just bicycles,

sharing space, co-existing on roads,

getting people to work, on errands,

helping some get exercise, have fun.

Landscaper to librarian, man’s job is to help others find theirs

For 15 years, Charles Gross worked in very physical jobs — commercial landscaping for a decade, followed by a few years as a carpenter, then a boat builder.

The wear and tear on his body prompted him to find a less physically demanding line of work. Without a college degree or much other experience under his weather-beaten belt, it was a challenge that would be daunting to some people. But not to Gross.

Today, Gross is a librarian at the Monmouth County Library System’s Eastern Branch on Route 35 in Shrewsbury. His specialty is the library’s Career Information Center, where he assists people looking for a career change or new employment locate information they need on a computer and among stacks of books and periodicals.

After hanging up his tools and doing a one-year stint at Brookdale Community College’s library in Middletown, Gross knew a career helping people find information was for him. While he worked in the library of Monmouth Medical Center in Long Branch on evenings and weekends, he completed his undergraduate studies at Thomas Edison State College in Trenton. He then decided to pursue a master’s degree in library science from Rutgers University in New Brunswick while working part-time in the library of Monmouth University in West Long Branch.

Digitizing records

As he first did at Brookdale, Gross initially spent much of his time at Monmouth on a “retrospective conversion” project, a huge undertaking at libraries across the country during the 1980s involving digitizing records so they could be easily accessed on computers. After earning his graduate degree in 1991, Gross began working full-time at the Monmouth University library.

“At that point, things began to get even more interesting,” Gross said.

He joined the Monmouth County Library system in 1995 as the law librarian in the Monmouth County Correctional Institution in Freehold. Gross, of Middletown, said he interacted daily with inmates, some of whom were doing legal research to better understand their options while in prison.

In 2000, shortly after the Career Information Center was launched in the Shrewsbury location, Gross began his current assignment. He said it has been his most satisfying professional experience.

“It’s nice to be able to help people in some way,” Gross said. “I’m a librarian, not a career counselor, but I’m glad to be able to help people learn how they can develop new skills, find different resources like trade journals they didn’t realize existed, or get academic credit for their professional experience.”

Computer classroom

Gross said he is most proud of helping to establish a computer classroom at the Shrewsbury branch this past year. It’s particularly helpful for senior professionals looking to enhance their computer skills and take more advantage of Web-based resources.

In addition to maintaining a large library of circulating and reference materials on changing or choosing a career, interviewing, job hunting, networking and resume writing, the Career Information Center makes available online resources with business directories and periodicals, employment projections and job listings. Online resources are available at www.monmouthcountylib.org/cic.htm.

For a one-on-one appointment with Gross at the Shrewsbury location, or to contact him with questions, call him at the library at 866-941-8188.

This writeup with new photos appeared in the August 6 edition of the Asbury Park Press.

Out of the mouths of babes

Two five-year-old girls quickly made friends on the beach in Long Branch today, exchanging names and sharing toys.  Within an hour, one of the girls noticed a man holding a sand bucket for her new playmate and the following exchange ensued:
"Is that your dad?"
"No.  I don't have a dad."
"You don't have a dad?"
"Well, he doesn't live with me."
"Me too. My dad doesn't live with me."

The conversation ended, and they continued playing happily.

Forever and ever young

Although Bob Dylan and his record label thought enough of "Forever Young" to have two versions of it appear on the 1974 album, Planet Waves, "Forever Young" was never released as a single in the U.S. and was not for many years considered among his most popular songs.  Things have changed.

Dylan kept "Forever Young" at the forefront of may fans' minds by performing it nearly 500 times in concert during the past 39 years.  In fact, according to his official web site, there are only 27 songs he has performed more often, which says a lot considering Dylan has several hundred titles in his catalog.  In recent years, the song seems to have captured more attention than it did during the first 30-35 years after its release.  Certainly, it has become a soundtrack in many lives, including mine.

Norah Jones sang "Forever Young" at Steve Jobs' memorial concert in October 2011, just a few years after a remix of it was used in a soda commercial and the song was heard on a few television series episodes.  Earlier this month, my wife and son danced to the song during his wedding.  This past Saturday night at another wedding, I saw a bride dance with her father to it.  Singer-songwriter Steve Poltz said it is among his favorite Dylan lyrics and performed the song twice this weekend, once for a father and his new college graduate daughter, and once for Trayvon Martin.

Dylan most likely wrote the lyrics for his own children, who were very young at the time.  The song has a strong emotional appeal to many people, sometimes bringing a tear to an eye, sometimes a smile to a face, sometimes both.  In a very touching way, it captures the hopes of parents for their children, the elderly for the young; the cycle of life.  It is truly a timeless song.

May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young

May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young

May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
May your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young

"Forever Young" lyrics by Bob Dylan
copyright © 1973 by Ram's Horn Music;
renewed 2001 by Ram’s Horn Music

Dancing fool

For years, I thought my brother and I were the only Cuban-Americans born without a dancing gene.  Together with my broken Spanish and mediocre baseball skills -- not to mention the very un-Cuban last name I began using when my mother remarried and our family moved from New York City to New Jersey -- my lack of dancing skills made me feel a lot less of a Cubano.

Not any more!

My good wife, disappointed at the prospect of seeing her husband a wallflower or an embarrassment on the dance floor during our eldest son's wedding, suggested last summer that we start taking dancing lessons.  I went along with the idea, figuring if nothing else it would be good exercise and a learning experience for us to share as we began living year-round in our Long Branch condo.

I soon realized that, unlike enjoying black beans with rice and a strong cup of cafe con leche, nothing about dancing came natural to this Cuban-American.  Whether it was a basic hustle, rumba, foxtrot, waltz, tango, cha cha or swing, my mind and body had difficulty getting in rhythm with the music.  I often had difficulty understanding our Russian-born dance instructor, although it had nothing to do with the accent with which she spoke her good English.  It had all to do because I was thinking too much and not just relaxing and letting go -- perhaps another of my very un-Cuban traits.

It took only a couple of months to get comfortable hustling, and more time (and money on semi-weekly lessons) to begin getting the basics of a few other dances.  My wife and I slowly began to guess with some accuracy which dance to do with particular songs, and more often than not we went home after our lessons satisfied with our progress.  Meanwhile, winter turned to spring and eventually summer began and our son's July 5 wedding arrived.

As soon as the DJ began to play at the wedding reception, my wife and I hit the dance floor.  To the surprise of some family members, we put on the hustle moves we learned while grinning ear-to-ear.  During the night, we also danced some basic swing and, at the very end, to Frank Sinatra's "New York New York," we did some promenades while very carefully navigating our foxtrot through a packed dance floor.   I also enjoyed dancing with my aunt and other family and friends, as did my wife -- who was surprised and thrilled to see her inspired father on the dance floor.

Now, we're looking forward to dancing at another wedding in less than two weeks.

It turns out my older Cuban-American brother still hasn't unleashed his dancing gene.  He mostly sat and watched during the wedding reception, as I have done many times.  His son, however, was a hit on the dance floor with an array of unique moves.  My two sons also danced up a storm.  In fact, the bridegroom's first dance with my new daughter-in-law was a very impressive result of some lessons the two of them took in preparation for their big day.  My brother and I and our wives are glad the dancing genes were quickly discovered by the next generation!

Toast for a son and his bride

Following is the toast Charley made for his eldest son and new daughter-in-law at their wedding on Friday, July 5, at the Loeb Boathouse in New York City's Central Park: 

It's great to see everyone here tonight to celebrate this wonderful occasion, the wedding of Steven and Rachel.  It was also nice to see so many people in New York City last night celebrating the Fourth of July, the birthday of our great country.  Steven and Rachel are indeed very fortunate to have found each other and fallen in love. I can't help but think that the relationship they've developed and the future they are about to lead together are truly part of the American dream.

Nearly all Americans are here because, sometime in their family history, someone dreamed of having the opportunity to lead a better life.  Interestingly, both Steven and Rachel have paternal grandmothers who spent years of their youth in Cuba and migrated to this country as teenagers to pursue their dreams. Steven's family settled in the New York area, Rachel's family in the southern and western parts of our country.

Our families were fortunate to able to provide Steven and Rachel a chance to chase their own dreams.  For Steven, it was to be a musician.  For Rachel, it was to dance.  After growing up a continent apart, they both enrolled at Purchase College, and excelled in their studies.  Like their grandmothers before them, however, they realized they needed to change their future direction.

Fortunately, Steven and Rachel had already found each other on the Purchase campus by this point. The strength of their relationship, along with the opportunity to dream of a better life -- something that is still easier to do in this country than in virtually any other part of our world -- has kept them moving forward together, Steven as an accountant, Rachel as a medical student.

In my travels and interaction with people from different parts of the world, I've heard that a defining characteristic of Americans is their happiness.  Yes, we smile more than most people, and we have a more positive view of the world and our lives.  It truly would be a fulfillment of my dream, as a parent and an American, and for our families who first ventured into this great land, for people around the world to see Steven and Rachel years from now and say, "Look at how happy that couple is.  They must be Americans, in love!"

Steven and Rachel, we toast to your joy today and your dreams for the future. And when you look into each other's eyes, may you continue setting off fireworks like the ones over the Hudson River last night!