Ramblin' with Roger

Sunday Stealing Has No Theme Whatsoever

You say Stephen and I say Steven

Welcome to Sunday Stealing. Here we will steal all types of questions from every corner of the blogosphere. Our promise to you is that we will work hard to find the most interesting and intelligent questions. Cheers to all of us thieves!

This week’s highly random questions were stolen from Love Me Some Surveys. It Has No Theme Whatsoever

Survey Asks …

1. What was the last gift you received?

Father’s Day. Miniature Hess trucks. Interestingly, I didn’t actually RECEIVE it until early September.

2. Who did you last hang out with?

Probably friend Grace, who got a new reclining chair.

3. Do you often lose the remote?

We have two, one for the Roku and one for the DVR. One or the other is often MIA. 68% of the time, it’s on or in the sofa.

4. When did you last check Facebook?

When I posted my blog this morning. I usually note who commented.

5. Are there scented candles in the room you’re in?

No. I actually hate them. They feel like they deprive me of oxygen.

6. Next time you leave the house, where will you be going?

To choir rehearsal before church.

S.T.E…

7. Do you know anyone named Steven or Stephen or Steve or Stevie?

I know a lot of them. There’s the guy from high school who I last saw in Poughkeepsie in May 1971; we’re Facebook friends. Then there’s the awesome Stephen Bissette, a great comic book artist, my friend, and a fellow March Piscean.

At least three guys I know from 1980s Albany, all of whom I’m friends with on Facebook. One is an author who spoke at Albany Public Library. Another gave me tickets to see Maria Muldaur; he couldn’t go because he had tickets to ANOTHER show. Yet another was a local newspaper guy who appeared in one or more of the FantaCo Chronicles I edited; he’s moved to the Southwest. A couple others, including a guy from my previous church, are ones I’ve lost track of.

I also know at least four women named Stephanie, three of them from my church.

8. Which do you prefer: macaroni salad or potato salad?

I want to like potato salad, but I don’t. Macaroni salad can vary, depending on how it’s seasoned.

9. Do you have an ice maker in your refrigerator door?

No, it’s in the freezer section, the lower third of the fridge. One can stop it from producing too much ice, which is a good thing.

10. When you woke up this morning, did you get up straightaway or lounge a bit?

“Lounge” would be overstating it. It’s usually running my Sunday mental to-do list, which includes, in some order: go to my office laptop and post my blog post on Facebook and on Bluesky, if I remember the latter. Post my blog post on Sunday Stealing. Visit the Sunday Stealing posts for the week. Make oatmeal for breakfast. Look at my phone, hoping there are no actionable items. Then eat, shower, dress, go to church.

Thank you for playing! Please come back next week.

The Hot 100 #1s for 1996

also Adult Contemporary #1 for 1996

The Hot 100 #1s for 1996: a short list. One Sweet Day by Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men, the biggest hit of 1995, lingered on the charts into the new year.

Macarena (Bayside Boys Mix) – Los Dios Rios, 14 weeks at number one

Don’t Speak – No Doubt: 16 weeks at #1 as an album cut. According to Top Pop Singles: “As the 1990s progressed, more and more hugely popular radio hits were unavailable as commercial singles and therefore ineligible.” Yet this song is here; whatever. The actual Hot 100 charts fixed this by 1998. I saw No Doubt live in Albany in 1997.

Unbreak My Heart – Toni Braxton, 11 weeks at #1. I saw Toni Braxton and others in Boston in 2026.

The Crossroads – Bone Thugs N Harmony, eight weeks at #1

Because You Loved Me – Celine Dion, six weeks at number one. The theme from the movie Up Close and Personal, a movie starring Robert Redford, Michelle Pfeiffer, and Stockard Channing that, somehow, I never even heard of.

No Diggity – Blackstreet with Dr Dre, four weeks at #1

Always Be My Baby – Mariah Carey, two weeks at #1

How Do U Want It – Tupac with Casey and Jojo, two weeks at #1

You’re Makin’ Me High – Toni Braxton, one week at #1. I have the album.

Adult Contemporary

That was so short; we’re also gonna give you another list. At the beginning of 1996, it was Hot Adult Contemporary, but on 16 March, it changed back to Adult Contemporary, which it was called from 7 April 1979 to 13 October 1984.

*Don’t Speak – No Doubt, 15 weeks at #1. I have the album.

*Because You Love Me – Celine Dion -12 weeks at #1

Give Me One Reason– Tracy Chapman, eight weeks at #1. I have the album.

I Love You Always Forever – Donna Lewis, eight weeks at #1

Head Over Feet– Alanis Morissette, three weeks at #1. I have the album.

Time – Hootie and the Blowfish, two weeks at #1. I have this album.

One Sweet Day – Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men, one week at #1. I saw Boyz II Men in Chautauqua in 2024, and with others in Boston in 2026. Last year, I shared a game show anecdote.

The suitcase retrieval

Nor’easter

NEWLY-PLANNED: Sunday, September 27 – On Friday evening, after I called my wife, my daughter called me to ask what I was thinking about regarding the suitcase retrieval. I had left it on the bus from Syracuse to NYC when I got off in Binghamton.

I thought that there should be a way to send the luggage up by bus, but this would mean more work for Andrea. So I decided I should take a bus to New York City.

My wife and daughter had been in NYC Wednesday through Friday, having seen School Girls or, the African Mean Girls Play (which they loved) and Two Strangers (Carry a Cake Across New York) (great acting, but plot holes).

So, my daughter offered to come to NYC (drive to Poughkeepsie, Metro-North train to Grand Central Station) on Sunday. Wonderful. There was only one potential downside: a Nor’easter was racing up the coast. So, it’s settled; the plan is on.

The point of it all, apparently

On Saturday, I had called my father’s first cousin Ruth, who witnessed firsthand my father coming up my name shortly after I was born. She offered to pick me up Sunday morning and take me to the bus station.

As she and one of her daughters had picked me up quite early, we talked about family lore, about Raymond Cone, and the resilience of my paternal grandmother Agatha, Ruth watching Leslie and me when we were little, and my father’s amazing creativity, coupled with his utter lack of fiscal restraint.

REALIZATION: Suddenly, I realized why I needed to be in Binghamton the weekend of my dad’s 100th birthday: to share Les stories with people he’s related to.

But what about not seeing 5 Gaines Street (42.107838 latitude, -75.915621 longitude), the house I grew up in that’s now for sale? I had friend Cee and spouse keep the 12:30 pm appointment and share the intel with sister Leslie and me. (Thanks!) I’m not saying either of us would move there, but it is an intriguing concept. Especially for my sister, since the housing costs are so much greater in SoCal.

It’s too bad I didn’t get to go to church at Trinity A.M.E. Zion, the church I grew up in, but I got to ride by it a couple of times; it’s less than two blocks from 5 Gaines. When I went by there on Friday night, a bunch of kids from the church were playing on the lawn, which I found oddly comforting.

Big Apple

NEW PLAN: The bus station in Binghamton does NOT announce or display arrivals or departures. So at 7:45, I went out to look for my 7:55; yup, it was just about to board. I said my goodbyes and got onto a Trailways bus to the Port Authority Bus Terminal in Manhattan, which, not incidentally, was MUCH more comfortable than those Flix buses I rode to Syracuse and Binghamton. It rained intermittently on the trip, but it wasn’t bad.

Around the same time, my daughter was driving from Albany to Poughkeepsie. It turns out that, because of the counterclockwise winds, the rain from the Nor’easter was worse on the trip down than on the return trip, especially around Woodstock and Kingston. She almost stopped for a time but persevered, reaching Poughkeepsie and taking the Metro-North to Grand Central.

My sense of direction was all out of whack, and I couldn’t figure out how to reach Grand Central. Some official sent me to Penn Station on the 7 subway, but my daughter directed me back.

Suddenly, I wandered to an S shuttle that took me to Grand Central, and my daughter found me. We took the Metro-North. My daughter has quickly become an expert. We needed to take the New Haven line, but really the Stamford subsidiary line to Westchester County.

The ‘burbs

While we waited for Andrea and my suitcase, we overheard a couple of friends who had met at the train stop. She was a trained dancer hired by a rich Manhattanite to perform at the wealthy lady’s two-year-old’s birthday party. But there were so many other people and stuff that there was no room to dance. The hired Santa assured her that it was a weird, albeit well-paid, gig. The friends realized we had been eavesdropping on their conversation – they were only about ten feet away – when I couldn’t stifle a laugh. They were cool about it.

Finally, Andrea figured out where we were and got me the suitcase. She suggested I be more mindful; noted. My daughter gave her the wine and chocolate she had bought on my behalf.

We ate at the station, took the line back to Harlem, then took the Hudson line back to Poughkeepsie. My daughter drove us back to Albany. We arrived at 6:40, less than 20 minutes later than I would have if I had taken the bus back to Syracuse, then Albany; oh, yeah, that bus was canceled. How WOULD I have gotten home?

I was exhausted, but still wired. After my wife and daughter went to bed, I noticed I had recorded Sunday Night Football, the match betwen the Los Angeles Rams and the Denver Broncos. About halfway through the first quarter, I fell asleep on the sofa and woke up for the last three minutes, which I watched. It was a great ending to an interesting weekend.

Rockets and raindrops

after the rain

I had the idea of occasionally posting a photo as my post. I was inspired by this post from Kelly, where he wrote: “I am strongly considering making the newsletter a weekly thing, with most issues being a quick photography feature in which I’ll share one photo of mine, likely with a short paragraph or two about it…like, why I shot it, what caught my eye, what I learned from it technically, and so on.”

The problem, of course, is that I’m not a photographer. In any case, I don’t take enough shots to even fake it.

Still, I took this one on Friday, August 21 at 9:18 a.m. on my iPhone 12, or whatever it is. My wife and I were coming back from breakfast. As she drove home, I saw a series of rockets and raindrops on the passenger-side window. In other words, the light from the sun refracted through the raindrops and left a series of rockets? Arrows? Whatever was on the door.

The raindrop you see on the base of the window created the rocket image. Meanwhile, I don’t know WHAT was on the window that created a shadow just behind the raindrop.

Of course, I LOVED seeing the texture of the car’s interior, which I had never really noticed.

I took the shot because the physical phenomenon fascinated me. It had rained the night before and perhaps even early that morning, but not by the time we went out at c. 8 a.m. So these were residual raindrops.

First take

While I didn’t really learn anything, I noted that the first attempt from a minute or so earlier, while capturing the phenomenon, was a bit meh. So I tried again. The greenery made the second shot much more interesting.

What thinkest thou?

BCHS reunion

Mount Prospect

IT’S ALL JAZZ: Saturday, September 26, on what would have been my father’s 100th birthday. After breakfast, Cee and hubby went to a scarecrow event; they brought their own straw and other accouterments.

I spoke to a couple of cousins, my sister Leslie, and others.

PLANNED (I LOVE planned!) My friend Bill picked me up for my BCHS reunion. That’s Binghamton Central High School. It merged with Binghamton North in 1982, but the school is still the building that Rod Serling and I attended (not together), though it has been expanded.

Bill came with his wonderful wife, Brenda, and his nifty sister, Wendy. The event was at Ely Park Golf Course on Mount Prospect, which I believe is the northernmost point of the Appalachian Mountains.

The base of the mountain was very close to my grandmother’s house when I was growing up, but I hadn’t really been up there in decades, not since they took down the steps that ran from Prospect and Oak Streets up a couple of hundred steps. They tore them down when they built the “new” Route 17 in the early 1970s.

The upside was seeing Lois, like Bill, another Dickinson alum, and a bunch of other folks. There were fewer people than five years ago, but for me, the crowd was more manageable. Kudos to Helen, Sharon, Bonnie, and Susie for organizing the event.

The downside was that it was REALLY windy at times, so the staff people putting out the food thought it prudent to turn off the flames under the heating trays. I had a cold hamburger late in the 2 to 6 pm window, which wasn’t terrible. Fortunately, I had my autumn jacket.

Improv

PLANNED: Cee and spouse picked me up, and we went to the UU church, where I first heard the Beatles’ white album in 1968; ah, the LRY (Liberal Religious Youth) that my high school friend was involved with.

We saw the improv group Cherry Bomb, which has nothing to do with the song by The Runaways.

A member of the audience suggested the beloved Binghamton location for the group to riff on: the Rod Serling statue. One performer misheard it as the Ron Serling statue; fortunately, the piano player had attended Binghamton University, so he was required to know who Rod Serling was.

It was entertaining enough. I laughed a lot. But they must have had some bits already in their performance arsenal.

At about 10:30 pm, I received an email: my Flix/Greyhound bus back to Syracuse and then Albany, scheduled for Sunday afternoon at 2 pm, had been canceled. I don’t know why. I got a refund. It’s a good thing I had a backup plan.

Mixed together

Speaking of the reunion and the white album: when I was in high school, I rewrote “Back in the USSR” in my head as “Back at BCHS” (ain’t you a mess).

Those Central girls really knock me out

They leave the North High behind

And Central girls make me sing and shout

That Bulldog’s on my-my-my-my-my-my-my-my mind.

The Bulldogs were Central’s mascot, the blue and white. North’s were the Indians, the blue and red. Now Binghamton High School – red, white, and blue – are the Patriots, of course.