We Deliver, We Deliver!

Most of us are mature (old) enough to remember that line from a jingle for the United States Postal Service (USPS); We Deliver, We Deliver. All of us are aware of the troubles (how about that for an understatement?) the USPS is facing in meeting its financial obligations, but what does that mean to those of us who depend on the local services they theoretically provide.

Many moons ago, the USPS initiated a service for organizations and companies such as KIDS. The original premise was to allow small to medium-sized organizations to process Priority Mail and Express Mail from their website and never set foot into a local post office. This service is called "Click & Ship" and I can attest to an idea that really produced the desired effect.

It was a winner!

Alas, judging from the following experience was is the keyword.

Before I must go much further, I must call your attention to the following description of Priority Mail as noted on the USPS website. This descriptive passage will play an important part in what yet has to transpire.

Priority Mail

With delivery in about 2 days and affordable prices, Priority Mail® service is a great choice for shipping packages and envelopes. It includes Free Package Pickup™* at your door. Plus, when you shop online, you’ll get special savings and free Delivery Confirmation™.

On October 15th, I sat down at my computer and filled out the mailing label, affixed it to the Priority Mail envelope, and slipped a DVD into the envelope. I then placed it in the mailbox and sent it on its way.

Or at least I thought I did.

The following day (the 16th), I went online to check the progress of my mailing. I saw a posting that the package was electronically entered into their system on the 15th. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I sensed that all was not well. The next day I was back online and after I entered my tracking number I received a notice there was no information available and I would have to contact the sender.

Before I went into panic mode, I reentered all the information and to my chagrin found out that according to the USPS I had to check with myself. I did as instructed and found out that I knew no more about the status of the package than USPS did. I immediately went online again and got the telephone number for customer service. Or for at least what they consider customer service.

It turned out to be nothing more than voice commands instructing me what buttons to push on my telephone keypad. I won't bore you with the details of how I spent the next hour or so trying to break through the endless loop that I seem to be trapped in. The message I kept getting was that the number I entered could not be tracked by the service and I had to contact the sender.

I decided to wait just another day to see if matters had improved. Although I expected that nothing had changed, I was deeply disturbed that my worst beliefs were being realized. Since I did not seem to be getting anywhere with the phone service, I decided to try to contact customer service through their online chat service. It should come as no surprise, that nowhere on this site could I find a link to the chat service. All on my own, I figured out that if I started from ground zero and entered a new order, I might be able to connect with chat.

Lo and behold, it worked. BUT I had hit a new roadblock in that the chat services is only available for new orders. I should mention at this time for those of you who don't know me well that somewhere in my gene pool lurks the human equivalent of a pit bull  I would not let go of the person on the other end of the chat until I got a way to break through the phone blockade. She gave up the secret known to very few people.

Early on the 19th, I called USPS and as the "chat lady" had instructed, pushed "6" on my keypad and then selected option "4." And before I knew it, I actually had a person on the other end of the line. I spent considerable time explaining the entire problem she said that she would put me on hold for a few moments while she checked the account. When she returned, she told me that my item was shipped today from New York City to Washington DC. After I climbed down from the ceiling, I asked her to explain what in the world took three days for the package to go from 72nd St. and Lexington Avenue to 70  street and third avenue. A distance of just three blocks.

The only explanation I got was "I'm sorry.". I told her that would not do and I wanted to speak to a supervisor. I was told I had to give her specific information which I did, and that I would be called back in one business day by a supervisor. On Saturday the 20th I heard from Ms. Vasquez stationed at my local post office. In the course of our one half-hour discussion, I must have heard that phrase "I'm sorry" at least a dozen times. She did explain to me that the customer service function has been outsourced and no longer has a relationship with USPS.

At that point, I knew I had fallen down the rabbit hole and was searching for Alice!

In order to end this matter, I told her that I expect at the very least a refund of $5.10, representing the cost of postage. She told me that I would not receive a refund. When I got up off the floor. I asked her how is it possible. She explained in great detail that Priority Mail only says that they try to deliver within 2 to 3 days and that is not guaranteed. Since they didn't deliver in the expected time and it was not guaranteed  I was not entitled to a refund and would not receive one.

I then asked when are you going to deliver and was told that they had the package in Washington, but since I did not pay for Saturday delivery they were holding it until Monday. In addition, I was told in no uncertain terms if I wanted to ensure that the mail gets through in the future I needed to bring it directly to the post office and hand it to a clerk. I explained that the lines in her post office were so long that this was not a reasonable request. I asked if I placed the envelope in the post office boxes directly in front of the post office if that suffices. It turns out, it doesn't. They only accept responsibility if you physically hand it to someone in the post office.

Armed with this newfound knowledge, I am now looking for a reliable pony express delivery service.

It certainly can't be worse than the service, I am not getting from the USPS.

I AM NO LONGER A VIRGIN!

I don't know what you are thinking, but this has nothing to do with the 50 Shades of... series. Considering the fact that I am in my over ripe stage of maturity and the additional fact of having two grown daughters, I have living proof that I must be discussing some other form of virginity.


This post will not come as a surprise to any of you who have read previous blogs and been introduced to my ongoing war with the wonderful world of computers. I mistakenly thought that there were no new pitfalls left as I continued my travels into this  world, but I soon learned that the worst was yet to come.


About six months ago, I learned that my love affair with APPLE was fast coming to an end. I had purchased an iPAD and was delighted with the product. In no time at all, I thirsted with the possibility of syncing my iPAD with my PC. I was all atwitter at the possibility of having the two giants of the industry working together to make my computer life and experience more enjoyable and productive.


Stupid me...I should have realized that I was smoking hemp.


One day I got notice that I had to upgrade my iTUNES if I wanted to continue to sync my devices. Having had the foresight to purchase an APPLE Care Plan, I immediately connected by phone with one of their "geniuses."


He immediately uttered the deadly words I have heard on many occasions from other vendors... "No problem, we can help guide you through the necessary steps." I should have known that this pronouncement was a sign that I was in deep do-do. 

The download proceeded smoothly until the computer crashed. Many hours later, I was told that the problem was with my WINDOWS 7 software and I would have to contact Microsoft.


So much for the APPLE Genius. He too, proved to have feet of clay. 


Next stop was with Microsoft, and that proved to be futile. I won't bore you with my travails, but let it suffice to say that I made the following decision. Since every APPLE program runs through iTUNES, the only remedy was to remove that program from my PC.


Full well knowing that I could never again sync either my iPOD or iPAD again, I uninstalled the program. I could live without syncing and with the advent of music programs like SPOTIFY, I never would be without my music.


I thought Nirvana had arrived as for the next few months very few problems were encountered. Little did I know that this idyllic period would be short lived and the culmination would be the end of my computer virginity.


A few weeks ago, another program demanded an upgrade. With much trepidation I hit the download button and sat back with baited breath. The download went smoothly and I raised my glass (filled with water, of course) in celebration. I closed down the computer for the day and had nothing but good thoughts.


Early the next morning, I fired up the computer and double clicked on the newly installed program. After a few moments, I clicked again, again, again, and yet again with no results.  I called my IT person and let him do his magic with no positive results. Finally, he got it to work, but that only lasted a day. It now sits on my machine and I am unable to uninstall the program as I receive an error message informing me the program has already been uninstalled.


As if that was not enough angst, I lost my Mozilla web browser service. I can no longer gain access to the web through this portal, but fortunately I still have CHROME and INTERNET EXPLORER. 


Little did I suspect that all that had transpired up to now was soon going to fade into a distant memory with the disaster awaiting me. 


When I initially purchased this computer, I wanted the very best anti-virus and firewall protection available. Research led me to Kaspersky Labs a program developed in Russia. The rational behind this selection was that at that time most of the computer attacks was coming from that part of the world. Logic told me that there could be no better protection than from the folks who lived where most of the bad guys lived.


For all I know, Kaspersky might be the ones sending out the bad stuff as part of their marketing plan to increase sales of their products.


For the past two years, my life was free from virus attacks. Every once in a while my screen would turn orange or red, warning me of some dangerous activity trying to penetrate my defenses. I must admit I grew fat and happy.


Living with a computer demands constant vigilance and a person should never get complacent. I received a notice that my two year Kaspersky subscription was up for renewal and they had a deal for me. Blindly, I bought the package and downloaded the update.


Never did I imagine that this protection would only last two days. On the third day, upon opening my computer I got a blank screen. After many attempts I was able to open the computer and I found that Kaspersky had disappeared. I searched all over my hard drive and could not locate it.


I went to their website and tried to download another copy. It didn't allow me to do so as they said there was already one on my computer. I did locate some files and managed to uninstall them, but my next attempt to download the program failed. 


Then I saw the following words that threw me into a panic

CRASH DUMP

As I sat there and watched figures, number and symbols flash across my screen, I thought that this was the end of my computer. Suddenly the monitor went blank and the computer turned off. A few minutes (seemed like hours) later both came on and I was delighted to see that all appeared normal. (Whatever that might be.)

Hours later I finally got someone on the phone who after hearing the problem told me that he would send me an email instructing me to solve this problem. Obviously, this problem was not new to them.  I told him that I wanted him to stay on the line until his email came through.


His response was to simply hang up.


Since the email never arrived, I started all over again this time to get a refund. Another battle, but today I received a confirmation that my credit card refund would appear in my account within five days.


I am not going to hold my breath.


This experience with Russian customer service makes me yearn for the guys from India.


I can't wait until 2013 when I get a new computer and WINDOWS 8.

Spring Is Busting Out All Over Central Park and The City

It is hard to imagine that we are at the tail end of one of the mildest winters in memory. We had only one winter storm and that occurred in October. 


Jane and I judge winter by how many days we could not take our usual 1 1/2 mile morning walk. This year that totaled 2 days. 


Unbelievable!


Last week during our walk in Central Park, we saw a once in a lifetime scene. We spotted two Drakes (male ducks, for you city folk) sexually harassing a poor female duck. She was doing everything possible to avoid the inevitable. Not being voyeurs, we did not wait for this to come to what we believed was a forgone conclusion.


This blog starts on one of the most important days in the City, March 17th (aka as St. Patrick's Day). A day in which according to legend everyone is Irish. The wearing of green is something to see as it appears on every type of wearing apparel imaginable.Unlike many past St. Patrick's Days, today is picture perfect. A bit on the cool side, but perfect for both the spectators and marchers. 


The first St. Patrick's Day parade took place on Fifth Avenue in New York City on March 17, 1762--sixteen years before the Declaration of Independence was signed. 


Longer than Cats ran on Broadway.


As the city grew, so did the route of march. Today it starts on Fifth Avenue 42nd Street and ends on 86th Street. In my youth (yes, I once was young!), I lived on 96th Street between Madison Avenue and Fifth Avenue. The parade passed under my window late into the night long after many of the residents of the buildings on the parade route were trying to sleep.

Today, the route of march will be 10 blocks shorter ending on 86th Street. It should be noted that this is truly a "march" as unlike most parades there are no floats or any type of motorized vehicles. Everyone involved walks the route until the final inch is covered. The hundreds of thousands of spectators have a beautiful day to watch the entire parade.


What has changed is what happens after the parade. In the good old days, the marchers ended up on Third Avenue which was the land of bars. True to the legend about the Irish loving their drink, this day made the financial year for the bars and small stores dispensing liquid refreshments. 


I still remember the sight of policeman (from NYC and neighboring communities), standing (sort of) cheek to jowl sipping their beer. They had slightly red faces (even on the warmest of days), jackets unbuttoned ( a sight to behold as unlike today the cops of yore had protruding bellies), heavy pistols threatening to pull their pants down around their ankles and big buttons reading "Kiss me I'm Irish". Truly a sight never to be forgotten.


The reality of today is that the neighborhood has changed dramatically. I have no idea what all the "good time Charlies" do when they see that the watering holes have been replaced by high priced lattes and designer clothes. 


I will not be attending this year's parade as I had enough in my childhood. There is no doubt in my mind that I will not be missed. AND there is no doubt that new watering holes will be found and lots of girls will be kissed.


We can only hope that nine months from now there is not an uptick in births recorded.


On second thought, the parade always needs new marchers.


This parade marks the official start of the season for New York City parades. St.Patrick's Day Parade is the first of the three big events; followed by the Puerto Rican, and Israeli Independence Day Parade.

As President George Bush said, "Bring 'em on!"

Never Thought This Would Happen to Me!

Judging by what happened to me last week, if Bernie Madoff had been the one on the other end of the phone I would have been another of his victims. 


As it was, I almost fell prey to a bunch of amateurs running a SCAM!


Let me back up a little before relating my almost sad story.


Some of you might not be aware that Jane and I founded an educational not-for-profit called Kids Can Make A Difference. As a result of that a few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of conducting a class of middle school students located in Dubai.


No I did not take a trip to that country (as appealing as it might sound), but rather in this age of technology the class was conducted using Skype. It was a thrilling event and generated much comment. I received the following communication from a student and thought that it is a wonderful introduction to my tale of woe. 


(I have emphasized the pertinent section in bold print).  


Hi Mr Larry Levine 

My name is [redacted] and I am from [redacted] school which is located in Dubai, UAE. thankyou for reading my poem and replying on it. Weeks ago in our school we had an iearn online session (in which i was not there) however my friends who participated from our class 8B told me that they had the session in which there was the founder of this KIDS can make a difference named Larry Levine. 

Well at that time I didn't know who this person was but when i researched about you sir I found that you taught the KIDS program in many schools in New England and Metropolitan New York City and you also have edited the KIDS newsletter, which is sent to more than 10,000 subscribers!! 

But what truly inspired me was that when our Principle Mrs [redacted] visited our class and discussed about you and then she told that you wake up at 5:00 am in the morning and it's your daily schedule despite of you being in such an old age!!! 

You have done a truly great job as well as your wife and god bless you both and we are thankful that you contributed so much. 

Thank you,
[redacted]


It's that "being of being in such an old age" stuff that really got me. I guess I have moved from being very mature to over ripe sooner than I thought. I should mention, that I normally start my day at 3:30-4:00 AM.


In any case, this blog deals with what can happen when you are over ripe.


One night last week, my phone rang late (for me at least, at 6:30pm), and a voice with an decidedly Indian or Pakistan accent greeted me by name. Being around on this earth as long as I have been and been trapped on the phone speaking to various computer call centers about my computer problems, warning bells should have gone off in my head. I would have hung up the phone.


For some reasons known only to the Supreme Being, I responded in a civil tone and asked the purpose of this call. In retrospect, I can't believe I reached this stage of life being as stupid as I was. Before I knew it, like Alice, I was falling down the rabbit hole.


This disembodied voice, stated he was calling as I was part of the Microsoft Notification System to alert me that my computer was in danger of closing down. Another way of saying death was imminent. This was based on the large numbers of error messages they were receiving from my computer.


He asked me to go to my computer and turn it on and he would review the problems with me. I should have smelled a rat, as here he was setting up the situation and he was completely in control of the results. In other words, I should expect bad news.


Not surprisingly, he took me to some deep dark place on my hard drive where only the techies dared to roam. This place was titled "events" and it showed almost 6,000 error messages. 


Once he had taken this over ripe person to "events", I was now in his control and the sales pitch followed. Using his connection with Microsoft liberally (without ever saying that he was Microsoft), he told me what had to be done to get control of my computer and prevent me from seeing that dreaded blue screen. 


In computer parlance, blue screen=death!

Surprise, surprise, I was out of warranty and to help me bring my beloved computer back from the jaws of death would cost $499.99 for lifetime protection not only on this computer but on all my computers. AND even on my children's, childrens' children computers. Finally my dim mind began to feel something was wrong.


I agreed to the charge if they would solve two major problems I was aware of. I emphasized that this was a test. They agreed and tried to get me to sign up using AMEX. I told them it would have to be VISA. For some reason, despite many attempts they could not process the order.


Make a long story short, they agreed to go to work on the two areas I wanted fixed. Over the next two days totaling seven hours, I pulled the plug as they were stumbling around in the dark. Even to a dum-dum like me, it was apparent that they were totally inept.


I finally Googled the company and found that they were an Internet company located in France, but the telephone number I was given to reach the people I was dealing with was in Brooklyn, NY. The accents were neither native to France or Brooklyn.


I had always shaken my head in disbelief when I heard about "old" people falling for SCAMS. I always laughed in disbelief at the absurdity of the them for not realizing that they were in danger of being taken to the proverbial cleaners.


I still can't believe that I had become one of them.

The Clouds, Me and You

I never realized that my love/hate relationship with the wonderful world of computers would draw so much attention and comment. While it is readily apparent that like most of you of a certain age, every advancement in this brave new world brings with it new challenges (for the younger set... opportunities) that in many cases are both intellectual and physical in nature.

For example, this whole area of "texting" that I dare not enter. The rage on television these days are the shows about "the living dead" aka zombies. Well in New York City we walk among them. They are the mindless souls walking our streets with their thumbs busy at work never looking where they are going. I guess it is better than having them behind the wheel of a car.


The last time I remember people walking with their heads pointed down instead of watching where they were going was that time before the pooper scooper law. At least then it was not only a good idea to do so, but an imperative.


If I were physically able to join these masses, I would not. It is hard enough to navigate when not involved in trying to Tweet (whatever that is) or make sure you are not run over by a car driven by a "texter." For me, not only looking at where I am going, but being aware of what I am looking at, is a form of self protection.

Now to the subjects of clouds. This is one of the great marketing ploys of the technology sector. When you say "clouds" to most people, they envision great puffy white puffs of cotton floating across the heavens. 

From your comments, I find that there is a great deal of confusion in understanding what the term  "in the clouds" means. Most people when they hear the term believe that their data is being stored somewhere in the sky; hopefully near Heaven. The mental picture they have looks something like this...


Unfortunately this is like a Grade B Hollywood scenario. How could any rational person think that cotton candy like this could contain all your data plus all the data stored in the clouds from all the PCs, MACS, and assorted other devices?

In this instance, fantasy is better than reality. Here my friends, is the actual "in the clouds" storage device. It sure does not look like anything you pictured! These clouds are not high up in the sky, but are really nothing more than servers located in a server farm. These farms are operated by large corporations such as Amazon, Apple and Microsoft. These organizations "rent" out space in their clouds to smaller organizations that in many cases allow you to store data "in the clouds."


Put simply, there is no way you would like to be in an airplane that had to fly through a cloud made up of servers.


You would be better off on an Italian cruise ship.

A New Year With A Few Hangovers From 2011

Before I leap into the New Year, I must thank those of you who took the time to write, call and even speak to me in person to discuss my efforts at writing a blog. Your support gave me hope that my efforts have legs and found an audience. I was really surprised and horrified to find that some of you look towards me as a tech savvy person.


That is really scary as this first posting of 2012 will prove.


The story started when I convinced myself that a "want" was really a "need."  If I wasn't such a good salesperson, my leap into 2012 would have not been filled with angst; not to mention words of derision from those I hold near and dear.


On December 24th (the day before my birthday),I gave into my irrational mind and bought myself an iPAD2 and entered the wonderful world of APPLE. I must point out that one of the motivating factors in this purchase was reading the biography of Steve Jobs. I found him to be a marketing genius but less than an admirable human being. His zest for creating only perfect products and his love of combining style and function were motivating factors in my selection of the iPAD2.


I consummated the sale on the phone with absolutely the most knowledgeable salesperson I have ever encountered in my long history of dealing with tech people. In no time at all, all my questions were answered and my credit card number had been taken and approved by the Gods at Visa. I was told that due to the last minute shipments for the holiday, my order would arrive on December 28th.


Sure enough on the 28th, my new electronic gadget arrived. Fortunately, my daughter, Mara, was here with our Grandsons and she is an APPLE expert. I say fortunate as when I tore off the wrappings and lifted out my iPAD I was ready for immediate gratification. That was not to be the case. After a few frantic minutes, I was informed that APPLE products do not require a manual as you simply turn on the button. Sounded simple, but for the life of me I could not locate a button. The problem was solved as my resident expert hit me on the side of the head, and pointed out the button. 


In no time at all, I was discovering the mysterious ways of my iPAD  and gaining a false sense of confidence. Reality set in the next day when my daughter and grandsons returned home to Cambridge leaving me to my own devices. (That's a pun, in case you missed it) In no time at all, I was in serious trouble as the poor iPAD realized that it was in the hands of a total incompetent!


One of the reaons reasons I had classified this purchase as a "need' was that it would sync with some of the key programs I use in the KIDS program. Knowing myself and realizing that problems were my middle name, I had purchased a two year phone service contract. I made the call, explained what I wanted to do was sync the new iPAD with my PC. I was assured that this was a piece of cake and in no time at all it would be done. Two hours later, this piece of cake had gone stale and had to be handled by a higher ranked person. 


I shivered as APPLE had morphed right before my eyes into MICROSOFT and I knew that I was now in one of the circles of HELL and sinking fast.

Apparently this sync is accomplished through iTUNES and this required me to update the program. Easy...not with me. This upgrade blew out my WINDOWS7 operating system. I called it a day, took a few Tylenol and tried to catch a few ZZZs.


The next day proved as fruitless and my "elevated" person told me that the problem was with Microsoft and there was nothing he could do. He did promise to call me back the next day and see if he was able to find a solution to the problem.


Needless to say I never heard from him again and from past experience I knew that the battle had just begun. I called my computer guru and explained the problem. He connected remotely and said he thinks he can help, but it might be more cost effective to get a new computer.


Now I must admit that in the past when faced with technological challenges I proved able to come up with a solution. I took out my trusty Laptop and in not time at all, and with no problem, installed the iTUNES update. I called APPLE service and the representative set up the sync protocol. We started the sync and I was assured that all would run smoothly.


HAH! APPLE man speaks with forked tongue! 


I guess if you count the two days (and three false starts) immediate the sync actually was competed.


Now for most people that would be the end of this travail, but I am not most people. Returning to my PC, I was unable to download anything from the web including documents. By this time, my picture had been circulated to all APPLE personnel with a warning that this individual should be avoided at all costs. 


My guy was of little help and his mantra seemed to sound vaguely  something like "get a new computer." While my technical skills leave more than a little to be desired, I pride myself on being a good problem solver. I deconstructed every step that the APPLE person took in trying to download iTUNES and lo and behold the reason for the problem was so simple that I find it hard to think that the so called experts never thought of it.


He had me turn off Internet Explorer so that the program was off line. I never noticed as I do not use that browser, but all MICROSOFT programs do. I turned Internet Explorer back on and I was back in operation.


I am happy to report that all seems to be working well. I must remember not to be lulled into a false sense of security, as in my relationship with computers there is another shoe waiting to be dropped.


I will be sure to let you know when that happens.


Meanwhile, a Happy New Year to all.

Life in the "hood"

New York, New York it's a wonderful town. Take a moment to set the stage with Gene Kelly, Frank Sinatra and Jules Munshin in this great number from "On the Town."

While this blog will continue my love affair with this city, I will confine my remarks to just 2 blocks on Lexington Avenue from 70-72 Streets. You might ask how much can take place in such a small area. If you are not familiar with this city, it is a fair question. Let me tell you about two things that separate this city from all others:

1. Water Towers... here is one of the towers that grace the skyline as viewed from my window. Every building at least 80 feet tall in New York City must have a water reservoir to meet the fire codes, and water tanks are also used to provide water service. A large office building can use 40,000 gallons of water an hour. Rosenwach the largest supplier of water towers was founded in 1866, builds 200 to 300 cedar tanks a year and can erect one in a single day. These towers are primarily constructed from wood, but some new buildings use metal tanks. Metal tanks are much more expensive, and wood provides excellent insulation to fend off the effects of fluctuating temperatures. A cedar tank lasts about 35 years.
2. Retail Stores... Unlike most other places, New Yorkers never have to get in a car and drive to a mall. Underneath most apartment and office free standing stores offering a myriad of products and services stand ready to meet the needs of shoppers. For the purpose of this piece, I will concentrate only on a subset of this diverse marketplace, and that is coffee shops. 

While many people think that the center of the coffee world revolves around Seattle, Washington others believe that New York (especially Manhattan) can make an argument that this city is the coffee capital of the country, if not the world. If that is not so, then we must take the prize for the diversity of the product and without a doubt, for the most expensive.

Before I go much further, I must tell you that I am far from a coffee expert as my drink of choice is Decaf. I allow myself one cup a day and that's all my system can tolerate.

I still remember my first.... coffee not where your mind may take you!

It took place in July 1957, in the Garden State, New Jersey at an army base called Fort Dix. Fort Dix at that time was the largest camp on the East Coast designed to train and indoctrinate new "recruits." Most of whom did not arrive there voluntarily. I was one of those.

I will never forget my third day/night in the service of our country. After three sleep deprived days of processing, we were loaded in buses and arrived at the basic training area where we would spend the next eight weeks in the largest sand box I have ever seen. It was 3:00am, and we (and all our equipment) hit the ground running for our barracks where the Sergeants who would make life and death decisions for us for the next eight weeks awaited us.

We were told to get into full combat gear and fall out for formation in ten minutes. To make life even more challenging, this was accomplished while being yelled and cursed at by the cadre. It was the very moment when I learned to conjugate all the four letter words I knew and some I never heard before and realize that this was the only language the trainers knew.

After a "stroll" of two miles (interrupted by sessions of push-ups), we staggered back to our staging area and were now deemed fit to have breakfast. My tray was filled with food and colors that I never imagined existed.    Chief of which was a delicacy known as "chipped beef on toast", or as it was to be known as "S--t on a shingle."

My metal cup was filled with a dark black, thick, liquid that I was informed was coffee. It was at that very moment I made a decision to never again let that foul stuff pass my lips again.

I kept that pledge for over 45 years.

When we returned from our sojourn in New England, we had to reacquaint ourselves with our neighborhood and see what the action was for people our age. We discovered that along with the myriad of retail establishments in a two block radius, there were five places dispensing coffee. Two were of the Greek coffee shop category, and three were purveyors of quality coffee products.

I think we have finally finished the preamble and get down to my observations about the offerings of the three premium coffee houses in our neighborhood.

Corrado Bakery is located on the southeast corner of 70th Street and Lexington. It is just one of a few branches in Manhattan that is known for its baked goods. It is a bakery that sells coffee.

As you can see, they offer a wide variety of baked goodies and breads. We are true connoisseurs of bran muffins, and can assure you that these are beyond compare. They actually contain real bran and raisins.

When we are not being so pure, we can highly recommend their corn bread and bread pudding brioche. The latter is a cholesterol nightmare, but it does the system some good to get a jolt every once in a while. At least, I pretend that I am not doing permanent damage to myself.

The coffee is not up to the high standards set by the other two I will discuss, but certainly quite acceptable. The place is cramped with most of the space taken up with the display case containing their baked goods, bread and sandwiches. There are a few tables jammed into the remaining space. Not a comfortable place to sit and relax, but that changes during the warm weather when there are outdoor tables. Later on, I will discuss how we get our fix for the not-to-believed bran muffins.

Just a few doors down from Corrados sits our very favorite coffee establishment, Sicaffe. To just call it a "coffee establishment" is to diminish Sicaffe's importance in our lives. If Corrado is a bakery that sell coffee, Sicaffe is a coffee house that also sells baked goods.

The coffee is not equaled anywhere and to my untutored taste pallet is Nirvana! The. Decaf is like no where else. It has a taste like we have never experienced before.

We try to get to Sicaffe as often as possible and spend one hour enjoying the ambiance and our daily fix.  Sicaffe is more than just coffee; it is a place to sit at a table, meet friends, have good conversations and if on those rare moments when we are alone read a newspaper supplied by the establishment.

A real home away from home.

As if that is not enough, their satellite radio station plays non-stop Frank Sinatra and friends. It is like being in Italy and on many occasions Italian (or some other language) is prevalent.

The people who work here are professional and friendly. While their bran muffins are not as good as Carrados they are improving. Bran muffins are in short supply, so I call at 7am to reserve one.

How can you beat the combination of a good cup of coffee, music, newspapers, a circle of friends, and good  conversation?

Our last stop on this tour of coffee establishments is Oren's. This compact establishment in on the southwest corner of 71Street. It has a loyal following and we have gone there on occasion to get a cuppa to take home. We do this when we have the urge for a real bran muffin from Corrado and the second best coffee in the area.

It amazes me at all three establishments that the servers recognize us and most times I do not have to verbalize my order. The only time I have to tell them what I want is when the seasons change and my desire for iced Decaf grows.

There you have it. The complete story of coffee in my life. I might have been a slow starter, but now I am an addict.

Wonder how much caffeine is in Decaf.

Probably better that I don't know.