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I had done my early morning cardio walk and, while driving home, I passed this bagel place. Then it hit me: I needed (wanted really) coffee to aid me during my blog creating and a rewrite today.

Barry’s Bagel & Deli (10 Market Street, Clifton, New Jersey, 974-472-2435) is pretty comfortable. There is a huge selection of sandwiches, wraps, and platters. Barry’s is home of (in their words) “The Finest Hand Rolled Bagels”.

When I dragged my sweaty, tired body through their front door, I was greeted by two workers whose hearty enthusiasm matched the brightness of the place. This, folks, is exactly as it should be. I ordered a scrambled egg, taylor ham and American cheese on roll, and sat at the last table in the corner by the front window. Pretty good stuff served in a nice, clean atmosphere. The only thing missing in front of me was the New York Times, and it and others daily newspapers were there for purchasing.

There is something that I enjoy about small eateries. Yes, big ones are nice, but the tiny — especially the family owned ones — touch a special chord in me. Barry’s appears it may be this type of place.

Also, I have to add that the Crape Myrtle in our yard has grown to 10′. It’s about six years old, and when it will cease growing is beyond me. It’s the newest bush\tree in our yard. Two others that are still flourishing were there long before I bought my house in 1987. Young and old, adding great beauty to my little acre.

And with aging comes, inevitably, our leaving this world. With all the talk about New York Yankee owner George Steinbrenner and longtime public address announcer Bob Sheppard passing away recently, the trumpets sounded a wee bit softer in the case of Ralph Houk, who passed away on Thursday at the age of 90. “The Major” managed the Yankees from 1961-1963, and then again from 1966-1973. He was there during the last of original glory years, and then presided over a club that crumbled as much as ancient Yankee Stadium prior to its mid 1970s rebirth. It’s ironic, too, that I just this week started reading a book written by Houk and Robert W. Creamer titled Season Of Glory — The Amazing Saga of the 1961 New York Yankees.

I’ll enjoy this new breakfast and deli place, enjoy my Crape Myrtle, and enjoy my book, recalling when I used to watch Houk and the Yankees of my youth in aging Yankee Stadium on WPIX Channel 11.

Steve

Okay, what can possibly be better than walking the boardwalk in Ocean City, New Jersey?

How about dining on that very boardwalk, and enjoying a super concert as well?

Okay, call me a sadist (I guess?), but I drove 260 miles round trip this past Monday to see the Little River Band (”Reminiscing”, “Lonesome Loser”, etc) in concert at the ancient Ocean City Music Pier. Lucille, Stefanie and I have never spent substantial time in Ocean City, so we were thrilled to experience a new Jersey shore spot.

We dined pre-show at the Ocean Cafe at the Boardwalk (720 Boardwalk Avenue, 609-398-1400). “We’re Italian and American cuisine,” said Alex, the counter barista and a special guest here during the summer from Russia. Stefanie and Lucille both had barbecue chicken flatbread topped with grilled chicken, barbecue sauce, red onion and provolone. Me? I devoured the sausage offering with roasted peppers, onion, marinara sauce and fresh mozzarella. Our server was Roman, also from Russia, who was extremely congenial.

After that, we strolled to the ancient Music Pier for the show. Having never attended a show there, I was shocked on entering to find that it was, not a true concert hall with stadium seating and plush seats, but an auditorium filled with folding chairs, neatly lined.

This all added to the charm of the evening.  From the opening number, “A Long Way There” to the “Lonesome Loser” encore, the Little River Band — Wayne Nelson, Chris Marion, Greg Hind, Rich Herring and Mel Watts — were superb. What made the evening even more special were two things. One we sat next to an open door and enjoyed a cool ocean breeze, and in the distance could see the lights of the amusements and rides lit up in the nighttime sky. Also, after the show, the band itself stayed around in the back of the Music Pier and signed autographs and had nice conversations with those who chose to remain. Lucille and I got our tickets autographed by the band, and Stefanie had a small 8×10 photo of the group signed.

The best thing? You know it. Being there with my wife and daughter – with whom all my best times are spent.

Steve

It’s a thing of beauty.

You often hear about the nightly lowering of the flag and patriotic hymns in Cape May at Sunset Beach, but what you rarely hear about is the likewise emotional Sunset Tribute Ed Segall conducts at Sandy Hook’s Seagull’s Nest.

Honoring our nation, off of Garden State Parkway exits 0 and 117.

I recently described the latter nightly event in my “View From The Center” column for Ed Hitzel’s Restaurant Magazine, http://www.sgswrite.com/PDFs/VFTCJune20101.pdf, and to see it in person — as we did this past Thursday evening — rain or shine, one person on the dining deck or a crowd, is very moving. The timing was strategic and perfect. The 82-year-old Segall took the microphone, asked those present to pray for and thank our men and women in uniform, then asked all to stand, face the sunset, hold hands, and sing along to “God Bless America.”

“Louder,” Ed encouraged everyone, “let them here you in Afghanistan,” and everyone raised voice. Minutes later, the sun dipped below the horizon.

This beautiful evening we enjoyed some good food. Lucille had a hot dog (truly American, correct?) and chicken caesar salad, Stefanie a grilled chicken sandwich and coconut shrimp, and for me a tuna sandwich on roll.

As we readied ourselves to leave, Ed Segall approached Stefanie and told her, “Our freedom is not free.” He then look at my wife and I. “My brother died at 18 on the first day in Normandy.” He then looked back at my daughter. “Whenever you see a man or woman in uniform — a serviceman, even if its a policeman or fireman — shake their hand and thank them.”

On a daily basis, we read and hear a lot of really unimportant (for me, anyway) stuff. Where is the star free agent in the NBA likely to sign? What he or she wore to an awards show. This celebrity is divorcing that one.

Who cares? Is it really that important?

Over 230 years ago our nation’s freedom was won by an army dressed in rags, their bleeding matching the color of the English army’s uniforms. Outnumbered, our tiny nation survived and won, and here we are now, celebrating with fireworks and cookouts.

Thank a man or woman in uniform. Pray for those who currently protect or have died for our nation.

The United States of America — the best!

Steve