Intro
New Year's Road Trip
College Graduation
NY to the Hamptons Challenge
Adoption
Apartment Move
Weddings
B-day Surprise
Thanksgiving in Florida
 
Like this section? Say so in the Guestbook!
 

HOME PAGE
>>Welcome to the "Frank2K" section of my site, wherein are highlights of what has amounted to be my busiest year, the year 2000. Many mistakenly refer to this as the 1st year of the new millenium, but we in the know ("intellectual fuss-pots") refer to it as the LAST year of the OLD millenium. Kind of appropriate for me, as many changes took place...

Navigate this page by "rolling over" the links to the left. No clicks or double-clicks needed.

ENJOY!

>> ROAD TRIP

Coming soon:
How I rang in the New Year by driving from FL to NY, posting stuff up to my web page along the way (Yes, I'm a geek!)...

>> COLLEGE DAZE:
>> THE LONG & BUMPY ROAD TO A DEGREE

After a slight sabbatical (since 1990), 1999 found me finally going back to my old college to see how many credits were left to wrap up my degree. To my surprise (and more than a little embarassment), it turned out I only had 4 classes to go. So after a bit of schedule- and financial assistance-wrangling, it was back to school I went, albeit as a VERY part-time student with a mere one class a semester. I was forced to take such a light course-load due to my full-time job and consulting side work.

When asked why I waited so long, I always say that I wanted to be in the Class of "aught-aught" or Y2K, which sounds WAY better than the Class of '89 (or '90, or '91, or...)

My 1st two semesters back, Summer and Fall of '99, were real brain-busters with "Science Fiction" as a literary genre and "AIDS: Contexts & Repercussions" (remember where I work) respectively. Acing both those classes was a mere prelude for my 2000 experiences.

"The Films of Hitchcock" in the Winter '00 semester was actually more of a challenge than it sounds. Having 3-hour classes four nights a week (Mon.-Thurs.) was bad enough, but they started at 5:30pm, meaning I got to nearly every class late because the Dowling campus is across the Island from LIAAC's Huntington offices and because I could never get out of work on time. Needless to say, I missed a heck of a lot of the movies I was supposed to be analyzing, but made up for it with class participation and connecting all kinds of weird parallels throughout "Hitch's" 50-year filmography. Final grade: B+

[It should be noted that all 3 of my classes up to this point were held in the SAME ROOM. By the Hitchcock class I was like "Here again?!?"]

If the SciFi and AIDS courses were dipping my toe in the water and Hitchcock was easing my way in, then my final class was finally getting my hair wet. But first, some background...

One of my major goals in going back to school was to take at least one Spanish course. Having a last name like mine, people automatically assume I habla the Español, which I don't. I'm not sure about other cultures, but in the Hispanic community this is not a good thing. I've endured all manner of reactions from good-natured chop-busting to out-and-out resentment. That aside, I want to have more of a connection to my culture than just my swarthy good looks. ;) A native language is obviously the best way to achieve just that entrance into any community.

Because Spanish classes were only offered during the major semesters (Fall and Spring) and filled up very quickly, there was no Spanish for me in '99. By now I had all the other course requirements for my degree sewn up, so I had an extra elective left. Thus I set my expectations on starting to learn the language of my genes in the Spring of 2000. Unfortunately my senior pre-graduation review proved otherwise.

Way back in my first stint at Dowling I took a course on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Yes, the guy who wrote the Sherlock Holmes stories. And yes, those were the works we studied. Granted, Conan Doyle was no literary giant on a par with, say, Shakespeare, but nor was he a Jessica Steele either. The Arthur Conan Doyle course was presented to me as fulfilling my "major author" requirement when I took it, and this was confirmed when I readmitted in 1999.

However, in the 10 years between my matriculations, two fun things happened. First, Dowling disposed of my records, forcing me -- at my expense -- to provide the transcripts of college-level courses taken at four other schools. I was also forced to -- again at my expense -- take my immunization shots over because no records existed anywhere (my childhood doctor is now retired and my parents' record were lost when they moved to Florida).

Dowling also changed the English department's standards so that -- you guessed it -- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle no longer qualifies as a major author. No amount of arguing, cajoling or yelling would convince the powers-that-be that this was not only unfair, but it was false representation, as I was told the complete opposite during my re-admittance. And thus my hopes for taking Spanish in the Spring faded from view. These hopes were instead replaced with the dread of taking a major author course in the weeks before a major fundraiser for which I was doing major set-up at work, and ALSO in which I was supposed to be riding. (see "NY to the Hamptons Challenge" section)

Of course upon reflection I realize that I can take an evening Spanish at any number of places. And yes, as I said before, Conan Doyle is no Shakespeare. It's just the PRINCIPLE of it all, that I had already done so much to satisfy Dowling's requirements, and now they effectively went back on their word on this. My sister also had a similar situation when her college did the pre-graduation review just before her final semester and "found" she needed an extra course to graduate. This from the same department that had been "advising" her throughout the process. So because my folks were already tapped out and it was too late to get more financial aid, guess who took on the bill? And guess who's still paying it on his credit card?

Needless to say I was not pleased with my current situation, especially since most of the major author courses were held during the day, in direct opposition to my 9-5 work schedule. The one evening course was "Shakespeare's Romances". Despite my trepidation with taking a study in Shakespeare, whose works I had previously found dense and unreadable, I suggested this course.

Surprise, there was another snag. Because my suggested class was not technically a "major author level" course, a special "compromise" had to be made for it to satisfy the requirement. (Otherwise it was suggested that I take another course in the Summer or Fall semester and graduate in 2001 -- simply NOT an option.) And no, it doesn't make sense to me either how any Shakespeare course could not be considered a "major author" class.

Finally, after all the drama, my last semester commenced. I'll always remember how the professor did an exercise the first day where he asked the class for their impressions of Shakespeare. A group of what can best be termed as "Shakespeare groupies" recounted how the Bard is like a "fine wine, getting better with age" or a "classic Chevy" if he were a car. My response was that reading the Bard is like "bamboo shoots under my fingernails" and my most memorable experience is that so many Star Trek titles come from Shakespeare's works.

Oddly enough I wasn't thrown out immediately. Rather, I do believe I came away with a greater understanding of this dead guy who still lives on in so much of our current culture. Being a bit of a wordsmith myself I can now appreciate passages that previously seemed dense for their layers upon layers of meaning, often steeped in double-, triple- and quadruple-entendres. Without gushing any more, I suppose the strange course of events that led me to that course (see, now I'm doing it!) all worked out in the end. Of course (somebody stop me!!). Final grade: A

And for some unfathomable reason, the English department decided to bestow an honor award upon my sorry ass. This after I busted so many chops and made so many waves over the whole major author thing. Go figure...

So on Sunday, May 21, 2000, fifteen years after I graduated high school, I finally received my BA in English. My family flew up from Florida and were on hand for the interminably long ceremony at Nassau Coliseum with some of my closest friends. Despite my butt falling asleep twice during all the commencement speeches, it felt good. It felt DAMN good. (not my butt, GRADUATING, silly!)

Festivities commenced shortly thereafter at the Black Forest Brew Haus. Yummy beer, yummy food. Click below for bigger pics. More to come...

 

>> BIKE CHALLENGE

Coming soon:
How I trained and trained, and still only made it to the 65 mile mark before getting knocked out from heat stroke...

In the meantime, CLICK HERE for more Challenge info.

>> NEW "FAMILY MEMBER"

Coming soon:
How I got this li'l bundle o' joy...

>> ON THE ROAD AGAIN...

Yep, I've moved again. No big surprise for anyone who's know me longer than a year or two and has the 2 or 3 address book pages devoted to me to show for it.

Actually I was at my last place an unprecedented 2.5 years. I had to move out not of my own volition this time, but because the landlords sold the house, and the new owners don't want a tenant.

So after an extensive apartment search I settled on a place a mere 3 miles from work. My previous place in Lindenhurst was 14 miles away, so this would be better.

Speaking of the old place, getting out of there was another adventure. Moving day (September 1st) was of course one of the hottest and most humid days of the crazy Summer of 2000. So guess what happened about halfway through running up and down stairs lugging boxes out to the truck...? Yep, my old "friend" heat exhaustion caught up with me.

I thought I would be alright drinking plenty of water, taking frequent breaks, etc., but I wound up taking another ambulance ride to the ER for an intravenous drip. Luckily my buddy Keith was there helping with the move and made sure I got to the hospital OK. The EMTs getting me down the stairs while I was heaving and blacking out was quite a scene, and most of the neighborhood gathered for the spectacle. Keith then called my cousin Chris, who took over hospital "baby-sitting" duties for the next few hours, and gave me a lift at 9pm.

Do you think I drank 6 gallons of water upon getting out of the hospital? Slept for 12 hours? Nope, I went back to the apartment, finished packing the truck and unloaded it at the new place with my cuz. (I never said I was smart...) Actually getting the stuff into the new apartment was WAY easier than getting it out of the old place because I'm now on the 1st floor. Sleep finally came around 1am.

The next day I dodged calls from the truck place (it was due back at 11pm the previous night) trying to get the 2nd load done in torrential downpours with the help of 3rd-shifter Jeff. I avoided further hospital stays and finally got the truck back that evening. The punchline is that, while I'm willing to pay for the extra time I had the truck, the truck company has since charged an insane amount of late fees which I'm in the process of contesting.

So here's my new address info:

Frank Torres
85A West Hills Road
Huntington Station, NY 11746
631-421-2783

Feel free to send legal fees, and DON'T RENT FROM U-HAUL!

 

>> WEDDINGS GALORE!

Two weddings, one as a bridesmaid, one as a groomsman. (don't ask)
CLICK HERE for photos!

Also, two more exes bite the dust: Candy and Kim
(boo-friggin'-hoo...)

And congrats to Eric P. and Gina whose weddings I couldn't make.

>> B-DAY COINCIDENCE 101

Star Trek has finally included a major recurring character of Hispanic origin in the person of Belanna TORRES on "Star Trek: Voyager". While this is a bit ironic, it gets downright freaky when you consider that the birthday of the actress who plays Lt. Torres is (you guessed it) Sept. 11th, the same as mine!

[Insert witty comment about my "descendent" here...]

>> THANKSGIVING IN FLORIDA


Friday, 11/24/00

3:15pm
A few minutes after liftoff from Macarthur Airport, my SouthWest Airlines flight jets over the East End of Long Island on its way to Tampa. What a remarkable view. All the previous flights I've taken out of the other New York-area airports (LaGuardia and Newark) have taken routes over the City rather than LI. This was the first time I've seen Long Island's famous "Twin Forks" from the air, and it very much resembled the maps I've seen since 3rd grade. Glad I had a window seat to enjoy this!

8:30pm
After settling in at Casa Torres, I whipped out the ol' PowerBook and had a DVD movie presentation of "The 6th Sense". Sis had already seen it, Dad was intrigued, and Mom hated it. She was frustrated that she hadn't figured out the surprise ending, even though we tried to assure her that wasn't the point. She said she'd rather see a "Pretty Woman"-type movie. Guess I didn't get my appreciation for alternative cinema from her...


Saturday, 11/25/00

Watched "Cabaret" with Pops. Similar to my experience with Shakespeare, I've always pigeon-holed anything related with Bob Fosse and Broadway as something I WOULDN'T like, but I thoroughly enjoyed this film. It had more of an indie flick feel than I expected. Bravo, from whence Dad taped "Cabaret" during their Broadway on Bravo weeks, intersperced the movie with helpful tips like how to get cheap tickets INDOORS, as opposed to waiting in Times Square, by calling 1-888-BROADWAY. Maybe I'll have to expand my horizons and give Broadway more of a try than the occasional rendition of "A Christmas Carol" by Star Trek's Patrick Stewart.

Because I couldn't be in Florida on Thursday, tonight was Thanksgiving dinner with the 'rents and sis. It's true, no one makes as good a turkey dinner as my Mom. (Not that I don't appreciate all the Thanksgiving invites I've received this year and in years past!)

Dinner was followed by getting loopy with my family on frozen white russians mixed by Mom, then a killer game of Scrabble. Even though I haven't played in years, I brought my English Degree skills to bear and held my own, only getting trounced by about 30 points.

Later I found that I may have hypoglycemia, or low blood sugar. Dad, who has diabetes and has to test his blood sugar every other day with his handy-dandy glucometer, decided to share the love by jabbing my finger in order to test my blood. A normal reading is around 125-200 and a low reading is 75 or below. I had a reading of 58. It especially concerns me that I had such a low level only a few hours after eating a big Thanksgiving dinner and some sugary pumpkin pie. I was already thinking about my blood sugar because of my two hospital stays earlier this year, both resulting from heat stroke. The strong possibility that I'm hypoglycemic would explain a lot, as this condition makes one more susceptible to heat stroke and passing out. I'll have to get this checked out in greater detail when I get home. More stuff to think about as I **gasp** GET OLDER.


Sunday, 11/26/00

Got my ass beat again tonight after a dinner of yummy, gas-inducing rice & beans, this time playing "How To Be A Millionaire" board game. Good thing I picked up a six-pack of locally-brewed "Ybor Gold" lager to soften the blow.


Monday, 11/27/00

The folks took me to Burlington Coat Factory where I snagged a Shaft-like black leather jacket, WAY cheaper down here than in NY. Then to Schlotsky's for delish NY-style deli sammich. Later Mom put together a buffet dinner of leftovers from the last several days (mmmmm, leftovers...). Dinner was followed by a dessert of cheesecake I picked up for the Ansboro's, friends of my parents who graciously let me use their scanner to update my photo section with family pics. Up until 3am completing the update in between being kicked offline by the crummy FLA phonelines.


Tuesday, 11/28/00

Spent most of the day putting together my friend Jeff's online wedding album. Now I just need to find a host to store the nearly 5MB site...


Wednesday, 11/29/00

Road-trip to Costco in the morning to break in Mom & Dad's new membership and eat our way from sample table to sample table. Got Mom a mixer, Dad a 450 minute phone card, and various other items. Then off to WalMart to get an inflatable air mattress -- 3 years of sleeping on the floor has finally gotten tired! Way too pleased with myself that I figured out how to blow it up using a hair dryer. Yes, it's the little things... Too bad I don't have a dryer at home. I'll have to invest in one of those lighter plug-in air pumps for road trips.

6:30pm
Departed on a magical evening with high school buddy, designated driver and all-around nice guy Lou D., who wore a shirt that surprisingly resembles one of MY "Kramer shirts". (I want to say something about the rules of parallel planetary development, but I'm too hung over as I write this.)

First stop, Circle K, where strange things were indeed afoot: one Elvis sighting (tall, skinny, hillbilly Elvis); got really bad directions to the first bar; considered purchasing a bag of beef jerky; and got a six-pack of Michelob Amber Bock, the closest they had to a micro-brew (beer-snob alert!).

The crappy directions led us to the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center, my mother's former employer until they unceremoniously let her go earlier this month. The beers from the six-pack led me to take a piss-break on the Arts Center grounds. Passed a security guard on the way out and asked for directions, got lost, wound up back at the same security guard and asked him for directions again as if we hadn't seen him before. (Wotta pair of pranksters!)

Several more stops for directions and public urination later, we wound up at Skippers Smokehouse and Oyster Bar in northern Tampa. This local legend of a bar has been around 20 years is basically a shack decorated like an unfinished attic. After seeing that only 3 people showed up to see "Spy vs. Spy" for reggae night, we grabbed a few $2 Red Stripes and placed some food orders. Lou got a fish sandwich and I got a dozen oysters on the half shell, which I doused with some of the hottest pepper sauce I've ever tasted. No matter how much ice, crackers, or beer I consumed, my mouth was still burning for a half hour after. So of course I had to get a blackened "grouper" (fish) sandwich to stop the pain.

A few hours and several Red Stripes later, we hit the road for Ybor (pronounced "ee-bore") City, a suburb of Tampa. Of course we got lost again, ending up on one of three long bridge that stretch out over Tampa Bay. Surprised myself and sports fans everywhere when I remembered the name of their football team, the Baccaneers.

Doubling back and finally getting to Ybor City, we hit numerous snazzy establishments on 7th Avenue along "the strip". No cover at any of them and $2 Icehouse brews were enjoyed all night long. A great live band was playing at the Green Iguana, and fans of Frank! will know the significance of their playing "Sweet Home Alabama". Bonus!

Next, Frankie's Patio featured a live appearance by HBO's "G-String Divas" who supposedly wanted to "mix and mingle" with the crowd. What this actually constituted was a dozen sorry-looking women shaking their rumps onstage, sometimes pulling up female audience members to join them while burly bouncers looked on menacingly. Kinda depressing. So it was back to the Green Iguana for more live music and a few pints of Guinness!

The drinking portion of the night wrapped up at a 2nd floor frozen-drink bar in the Centro Ybor outdoor mall. I somehow charmed my way into 2 free shots of the "strongest drinks in the joint". Both had grain alcohol and the first tasted like children's aspirin. A lame attempt ensued to recreate the "Magic Man" trailer park scene from "Swingers" with the two waitresses who were closing up. Lou, painfully aware that we weren't "money", knew that this plan was destined for abysmal failure. Hearing a little devil on my shoulder, I almost pilfered a six-pack of beer from a pile stacked near the door as we were leaving. My innate goodness notwithstanding, the video cameras hidden in the corners kept me from straying too far from the path of virtue.

Speaking of virtue, "Ybor's Finest" were out in force. While chowing down on slices from Johnny's Pizzeria, we saw rare footage of the local constabulatory (cops), apparently hassling a kid for only having one shoe. I'm sure there was more involved in the "case", but didn't care to find out. Lou wisely refrained from shouting "Can't we all just get along?"

As we passed the Ybor City Brewing Company on the way out of town, I stuck my head out the window and shouted, "I know their beer! It's AWESOME!!" or some other such nonesense. Pretty soon the grain alcohol REALLY took effect and I faded in and out of consciousness, several times in mid-sentence. According to Lou, he pulled a "Weekend at Bernie's" type stunt with my unconscious arse, propping me up and scaring carloads of underage girls who thought I was leering at them. He didn't realize I don't have to be unconscious to do that!

Got home at 3:30am to find that Mom was up worrying about my safety in big, bad Ybor City, infamous for its incidents of drunken violence. Awww, how sweet...

PHOTOS FROM THESE MISADVENTURES WILL BE POSTED SOON


Thursday, 11/30/00

11:20am
Sitting next to a banana tree under a very blue sky, sipping a VERY tall glass of ice water, trying to remember the previous night's events.and record them on my laptop. Looking very New York chic: black shorts, black shirt, black "Matrix" shades, and black laptop computer. Grilled under the Florida sun while Mom grilled her New York son about his night out, helping to bring some details into focus.

12:10pm
Too hot in my black shorts, black shirt, and black "Matrix" shades, and I'm sure the Florida sun is not helping my black laptop computer. Retire to the shade indoors to re-establish my link to the collective (the Internet) and re-establish my blood sugar level with a big glass of Coke.

7:00pm
While getting ready to visit Mom & Dad's new Chihuahua puppy at the breeder's -- a fellow Strawberry Ridge homeowner -- I realized that I have no idea where my glasses are. Turning the place upside-down in my search proved fruitless, so I called Lou to see if I had left them in his car. He confirmed that he thought I had left the car with glasses firmly planted on my face, but promised to double-check and let me know. Thankfully, Dad gave me a pair of his backup glasses until my specs turn up.


Friday, 12/1/00

10:30am
Lou called with news that, contrary to what we had previously thought, I did indeed leave my glasses in his car. Now I can stop going insane, at least over THIS. Since his mom has a flight out of Tampa tomorrow as well, we'll try to meet up in the airport. If not, he has graciously agreed to mail them up to me.

11:30am
Off to an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet for brunch with the 'rents. I remarkably showed some restraint in not actually gobbling all I COULD eat. Amazing what wearing a bathing suit to the pool every other day will do to your appetite!

1:45pm
Got back from the buffet and other assorted errands to get a call from ex-roomie Patti, another New Yorker who relocated down here a few months ago. Found out that she and longtime boyfriend Kevin are getting MARRIED this Sunday! Wish I could be around to celebrate, but my flight is tomorrow morning. I did resolve to get down to Florida another time before next Thanksgiving just to hang with friends, and she foolishly offered to let me crash at their place when I do. Knowing me for several years, she must know what she's getting into by extending such an invite, somewhat similar to saying "Beetlejuice" three times...