Newark State of Mind

I take back all the bad things I ever said about Newark.

Well, to be honest, I don’t think I ever actually badmouthed that particular New Jersey city.

In fact, I applied for a job there as the mayor’s press agent several years ago and I was set to move there if I had gotten the job.

I never got the callback, but I didn’t take it personally.

After that, I really didn’t give the place much thought at all, until yesterday, when my sister, auntie, and myself, roared over to the Holiday Inn near Newark Airport for an all-too-brief rendezvous with my brother, Jim, my sister-in-law Amy, and my niece, Victoria. We also got to meet Victoria’s boyfriend.

They had flown in from Colorado the night before and were heading out to Ireland on Saturday evening. We didn’t have much time together, but we made the most of it.

I had not seen my brother and his family in a few years when I went out to see them in Colorado.

We speak on the phone, of course, and Victoria, who has made a second career out of abusing yours truly, always makes sure to unload all manner of sarcasm about my failing memory and dwindling longevity.

Naturally, I was a nervous wreck until we actually got together, convinced that the car service would not arrive in time to pick us up or some other disaster would occur.

I got my freak-out on when we arrived at the motel and the front desk guy told us that he had no listing for my brother and his family. A lot of murder mysteries begin this way.

Fortunately, this fellow was mistaken and we all soon got together for hugs, talk, and age-related insults.

This event took place on this special weekend when we celebrate Mother’s Day and my sister’s birthday.

House & Gnome

Our mother’s been gone since 2002 and I just wish she and my father both could have joined us there in that motel dining area. The last time they saw Victoria she was just a little girl.

They would’ve been amazed at how their granddaughter has grown up to be a confident young woman and world-class wiseass. She even floated the idea of opening up a Lenihan Rest Home for all the aging family members—like me.

Now Victoria’s had a thing about garden gnomes and there was this one time when she wanted me to dress up as one of those mythic freaks for Halloween.

I had hoped that this was just a phase, but on Saturday she and my sister-in-law gave me an early birthday present in the form of a gnome statue sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed and his hands in prayer position.

“You should take him with you into a bar,” Victoria said. “Women will be attracted to you.”

I’m pretty sure that the only woman who’d be attracted to a man carrying a gnome statue would be a psychiatrist—and then only long enough to administer some very strong sedatives.

Victoria’s boyfriend suggested we name the gnome Tinky Winky, which goes back to this strange episode when my sister-in-law said she got the essence of the Teletubby character coming off me.

Yeah, it doesn’t make any sense to me either, but I didn’t want to argue.

The day ended all too soon and the three of us crawled back to the city in horrendous traffic to grab a drink at a bar near my auntie’s home.

I placed Tinky Winky in the middle of the table and when our waitress—a lovely young Brazilian woman named Camilla—came over, I pointed to meditating gnome.

“No drinks for him,” I said. “He’s driving.”

As Camilla burst out laughing, I started to wonder if my niece was on to something.

Maybe women are attracted to guys with gnomes…