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Marion-Tolerico
Why I like Jon Pareles**...
(Click the NYT logotype just below.)
**Ed. note: Chief publicist & unflagging paternal patron MJM passed this along for clarifiction...
On Tue, Feb 8, 2011 at 12:14 PM, Michael J. Marion <mmarion@winants.rutgers.edu> wrote:
>>I am told (by two colleagues here at RU) that Jon Pareles is THE rock/indie/music scene critic, bar none!<<
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The Birthday Girl...and her beloved 4-legged ball and chain.
A sympathetic Donna, seen here conjuring up Casey’s daily "Grand Slam” buffet breakfast, a task
she takes on with alacrity at 6:00 sharp every morning. The "poor” dog – who has been faking
decrepitude for years now – hovers in eager anticipation, her ancient salivary glands pumping out
endless streams of foamy, glutinous drool. There is no question that Casey is as grateful and
appreciative as a canis familiaris can be...even if the way she shows her appreciation is by later puking
copiously on the kitchen floor or livingroom carpet, or both.
For her dedicated determination to make the wily creature’s "final days” the best that they can be
(as those days go on and on and on and on with Guinness Book of World Records-like doggedness), we salute
The Birthday Girl, and wish her an entirely wonderful day (and night) of celebratory elder care
of the canine variety.
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Delicate Steve Hits Hamtramck, and JP's Hidden HackFester Cam was there!
Click da pic:
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St. Joseph of Assisi, er, Newton.
Joe Jr. and dining companions, Newton, NJ, Fall 2009
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 Speaking of Steve (see posting just below), his proud papa brought these to our attention...
Delicate Steve on NPR's All Songs Considered:
MJ notes that it takes a few seconds to load but will play automatically.
The piece on Steve is at about the 19:20 minute mark of a 43-minute review of the top bands from
New York's CMJ Music Festival last weekend. (Put it on in the background and listen to the whole
thing if you want to upgrade your "hipster" quotient. I did and my soared 8 full points! wom)
And finally, click this logo for info on the featured groups, INCLUDING our boy Stevie...
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-coming to a venue near you-
Delicate Steve prepares for a grueling roadtrip...MoogFest2010
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D.S. In Good Company...Click HERE, then scroll down. *********************
Still want more? Then click here.
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-mj passed these along-
A Good Day for Decadence.
Prior to whipping up another gourmet feast, Donna relaxes
with a Cosmo and a...what!? A Tiparillo!!!
Summer feast...filet from the grill, homemade french fries, green beens and garden tomatoes...
with a bottle of Vermontian wine...on the last (official) night of summer. mjm
Wine snob JP comments: I hear that Vermontian red is as good or better than the vaunted Minnesota chardonnay....
WOM comments: Clearly a test-run feast in anticipation of the imminent arrival (some might say "infestation") of
the Cox Classic crowd. The bar has been set.
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HB, Steve!
Young Steve, back in an era when he was known far and wide as Badass Steve (which was his moniker until he became
Delicate Steve). It was a most fitting name: Astoundingly, he would wade all the way out to the waist-deep water, thrust his custom-made boogie board
into the swirling surf, and ride the robust 2-foot waves back toward the shore, a good 20-25 yards away. He would do this over and over and
over again, all day, every day, during the entireity of the vacation , stopping only to guzzle an occasional Juicy Juice box (kiwi strawberry) and
wolf down a pbj sandwich on whole wheat/multigrain bread (handcrafted by his mother). Those were the good old days but today is a great one:
Happy Birthday, Stevie!
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As a married couple, how do you last as long asthese two have?
Well, you learn to...
(Click HERE.)
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Hey! Hey! Hey! HB Mikey J!
Summer, 1966 – Freshly into double-digits at 10-years-old, Mick-Mouse Marion proudly displays the impressive rainbow trout
he found washed up on the shore of Lake Horicon, near Gaylord, MI., site of the legendary Kelly cottage. It was just a minute
or two before this photo was snapped that Mikey, thinking the fish was dead, was startled half-to-death himself when the poor,
desperate thing suddenly began flopping wildly about in his hand. Mick-Mouse subsequently
staggered backwards off of the dock in a panic, knocking over all the lawn chairs just behind him and inadvertently
falling squarely onto his “catch,” instantly -- and traumatically -- putting the doomed creature out of its misery.
And now you know why Mick-Mouse never became a fisherman
(though, ironically, he may be dining on seafood at this evening's B'day supper)….
All the Best on your Big Day, MJ!
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This just in...
The HiddenHackFester Camera Crew has discovered advanced footage
of The Birthday Boy in full celebration of his new numerical milestone.
Click here to see a man determined to let it all hang out....
Euchred!
(click the pic.)
Digital editing by JPM; HF96-Jacksonville fashions by WOM
Neophyte Michael J gets schooled in his first-ever hand of euchre.
An all-time classic. wom
-MJ passed these along-
Live from New York...
June 5, 2010 - Long line to get there...
...about 30 times their previous biggest audience...
...nine song set...all original songs....penned by delicate Steve....mjm
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Coming soon to an Island near you...
(IF you live in NYC, that is.)
Young Steve, adding even more value to the already good name of Marion
***********
Who: DELICATE STEVE
When: Saturday, June 05, 2010; 6:00 PM - 11:00 PM
Where: The Beach @ Governors Island (with Yeasayer)
Governors Island, New York, NY
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Click HERE to read some of the buzz about our homeboy's music AND
listen to some hot tracks....
Click HERE to read an interview with Stevie about the creative process of producing
his album WONDERVISIONS.
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Buy this CD! Now!
Clic the pic and order Steve's debut CD. For just $8 and free shipping, it's an absolute steal.
Stevie's guitar artistry is on full display in this stellar production -- but don't take my word
for it...get one for yourself!
HB Michelle!
Lake Skaneateles, NY, 1997 - young Shelley and boon companion Casey enjoy
the comforts of home...on a houseboat. And no wonder -- Mike and Donna,
doting as ever and in an unprecedented act of parental concern for the well-being
of the pair, strapped their beloved couch (above) to the roof of their minivan
and hauled it with them on vacation that year. They then manhandled it down
to the dock and installed it on their rented houseboat. Though most of us would
roll our eyes at the very thought of such a move, even characterizing it as truly
preposterous, this photo of the placidity and total contentedness that it
engendered confirms that in the immortal words of veteran Quaker Oats shill
Wilford Brimley, it was "the right thing to do."
All the Best on your Big Day, young lady!
HB, Donna!
The Birthday Girl herself – along with boon companion and confidante Casey – in a rare moment of relaxing
reflection. No doubt this scene of apparent tranquility was, even then, being marred by uncontrollable thoughts of inaccessible, ruptured
pipes having been inexplicably installed UNDER the concrete foundation by the builders; of the ongoing and annoying necessity, therefore,
to turn the hot water on and off in the garage until repairs on said pipes (which will be complicated and destructive) are made in the spring;
of failing appliances, both large and small, and the ever-present need to replace them (but only when a “really amazing deal” can be secured);
of the constant denuding of her prized shrubs, bushes, flowers, and foliage by the fearlessly encroaching deer population; of the unpleasant chore
of dealing with the discovery of mouse droppings in kitchen drawers; of her duties as physician’s assistant to Casey (inserting canine suppositories;
mopping up upchuck; taking her out for her daily constitutional; and in general, consoling the poor, vittles-obsessed beast in her dotage);
of her incessant worries about the well-being of not only dear Casey but also Steve and Michelle and Michael and Joe and Betty and
Anne and her family and Joe Jr. and the store and all the needy kids at school; and then there are the four cars and their maintenance and insurance;
and, of course, there’s the weather and the poor people of Haiti and on and on and on and on, day after day, night after night, year after year.…
Here’s hoping you can put all this aside today, Donna. If anyone deserves a fantastic, stress-free day, it’s YOU.
Let it snow, let it snow, blah, blah, blah...
HF photo by Mick-Mouse Marion
12/20/09 - Some of us are already sick of the white stuff -- even though the winter solstice is just now upon us -- but these
two characters appear to be thriving in it, actually enjoying it.
Go figure.
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Three's Company...
October 4, 2009 -- It took a village to install Donna's new microwave...fortunately, that village
included, among others, JP (not pictured), Matt (on left), Jim Fiscus (not pictured), Bob Vila (not pictured),
DeGiulio Kitchen and Bath (represented by Dan, center), and Casey (not pictured). Here she contemplates
whether to even keep the damn thing (since all she really needs it for is to cover the unsightly, untiled space above her
stove and to heat water for tea) as her aides heft the behemoth into place. Note MJ, knowing that he's superfluous,
attempting to escape from the corner to return to his own essential kitchen toilings (below)...
-Fresh from Joisey-
A gutty performance.
Newton, NJ, 10/6/09 -
(above) The offshoot of Casey's cider mill doughnut binge -- the very doughnuts,mind you, so generously given to us by
Amira upon her visita day or two before, and which we had fully intended to enjoy with coffee brewed in Mike and Donna's
new thematically-correct (stainless steel) and technologically-advanced coffeemaker that very morning. Having somehow secured,
then scarfed down, every last morsel of those deep-fried treats, Casey proceeded to diabolically deposit their digestively-processed,
aromatically-challenged remnants on the floor next to the kitchen table just prior to breakfast.
Five minutes later - A vigilant Casey, back on duty, hoping to replace her blown lunch with a little breakfast, as
MJ obliviously tastetests his pancakes and JP prepares to testdrive the designerly new coffeemaker....
Note: Just back from the Cox Classic (Number 20!), and have lots to catch up on. Stay tuned! wom
A Religious Experience: How Michelle became a Catamount.
 photo by MJM
Burlington, October 2008 -Thankfully, the fussing and fretting about college has ceased in Newton now that Michelle has chosen to attend the University of Vermont next fall (and therefore, become a UVM Catamount). It was an immensely difficult decision, made on the banks of Lake Champlain almost on a whim. As doting mother Donna and the stressed out college-student-to-be sat deep in prayer on a dark, dreary autumn day, Michelle blurted: "I need a sign, Mom! I just can't do this! I-Need-A-Sign!" At that very moment, without warning or explanation, the sun broke through the monotonous grey sky which, then, miraculously changed to a resplendent blue. As the bright rays cast a fine reflection on the lake, briefly blinding the duo, Michelle shouted, "OMG! Mom! OMG! I'm going to UVM!! I'm going to UVM!!!"
And now you know the rest of the story.... wom
She's off again.
Young Michelle, loyally sporting a vintage Cox Classic cap (a requirement of her sponsors), is seen here photographing the rare
mosquito annoyus on last summer's eco-tour in the Costa Rican jungle. This time, she's in the Dominican Republic on a mission of charity.
She's Back in Action!
(in a manner of speaking)
Hidden HF cam shot and text submitted by Michael J., Superintendent of Sleep (including naps) and Leisure at the upcoming HF2008-Cayuga
After flying all night, bussing all day, THEN walking the entire distance from the arrival gate through the
terminal to the baggage area on her recent return from a whirlwind 9-day excursion to the wilds of Costa Rica,
Michelle finds the creature comforts of home quite suitable.
WELCOME HOME, MICHELLE!!!
HB, Stevie!
"Not sure where Steve will actually be when he turns 21 on Monday (today!!), but
so far on the first leg of his America Tour, he's been through
Chicago, Omaha, the Badlands of South Dakota, Montana, and is now
pointed toward Seattle...." Padre Michael
Here's hoping that you're not above (or too old
for) donning a goofy party hat (or two), Steve. Then again, at 21, after a few celebratory
libations, you'll no doubt be game for just about anything (though we know that
should you inadvertently do something, shall we say, indiscreet, you have the good sense
to be traveling under a pseudonym, lest you sully the respectable family name of Marion).
All the Best on your Big Day, Stevie!
HB, Michelle!
The Birthday girl and Casey, long before the immense responsibilities of being 18 (!) were on the radar. Now, she
can vote (Obama), go away to college (Vermont), be charged as an adult in a court of law (texting while driving), get a credit card
(DON'T), be assigned chores around the house (never happen), join the armed forces (no
comment), and continue to hug Casey (always). BUT she can't legally have a
glass of champagne to celebrate her promotion to adulthood (unless it's done in the privacy of the home with
her parents' approval -- go figure -- which we're certain she will receive).
We, too, will be raising a glass in your honor, Michelle.
All the Best on Your Big Day.
HB, Stevie!
Master guitarist, talented producer, rugged outdoorsman, horticulturist, periodic golfer, daring kayakista,
and former wearer of fashionable 4H Club farming attire (OshKosh by Gosh)....
All the Best on Your Big Day, Steve!
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"No more school. No more books.
No more teachers' dirty looks...."
Michelle's four-year marathon through high school ended fittingly in June
on the school's track. More to come soon on this big story and lots of other stuff, as we try to
catch up with all that's transpired so far this summer...
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Free at Last!
All three of these cousins -- shown here at HF2008 (brilliantly organized and produced, you will recall, by Commissioner Emeritas W. O'Brien Marion) -- have been duly promoted from seniors to freshmen, a seeming regression, but in reality, emblematic of scholastic progress. More to
come on this, as well as the latest on the other grad in the family, Chris, whose exciting new job is taking him out west so he can experience firsthand the unprecedented economic and natural resources' crises that have hit the state of California. (A word of advice: Pack lots of water.)
HB, Donna!
Donna, Sister Ann, and Shelley with canine masters, er, companions, including the irrepressible Casey (front and center). Casey and friends had just taken the ladies on a brisk, bracing walk during which they (the ladies) were each permitted a few private moments behind a tree -- always a blessed relief -- and ample time to snort the fresh autumn air. Afterwards, the sextet repaired to the Marion compound for tea and biscuits and a reviving afternoon nap stretched out in front of a blazing fire.
Here's hoping tonight's celebration reaches such heights, Donna!
October 5, 2008 - A spirited debate accompanied Donna's magnificent Sunday feast as the troops gathered in Newton, NJ, in anticipation of the 2008 Cox
Classic. Here, RJ describes the impressive dimensions of Sarah Palin's executive office in the WasillaTown Hall (below) as just another reason she's ready for Prime Time. Fortunately, at least half of those assembled at the table weren't buying it; on the other hand, half were.
Hangin' with Shell.
Not in OUR backyard!
They’re mad as hell, and they’re not going to take it anymore.
Newton, New Jersey, locals — including our own Birthday Bad Boy Michael J — are all up in arms about the prospect of PSEG, the local power company,
constructing a whopping $1 billion transmission pipe right through the heart of Sussex County.
If allowed to proceed, the protesters claim, the project’s impact on the beautiful rural county will be both dramatic and permanent.
“It will truly be a parade-like procession of gargantuan power towers, transforming a bucolic recreational space into a western suburb of Orange.
It is the ultimate manifestation of a “grow and use more” strategy versus a more enlightened conserve-and-be-smarter-in-using-what-we-have strategy,” MJ explained.
“Hey, Mike,” replied one ruffian, “we KNOW all that. Why the f**k do you think we’re our here in the first place?”
“I understand why you’re out here, fellas,” countered MJ, re-gripping his .357 Magnum, “but if there was ever a time to challenge conventional thinking
with a more visionary approach to our energy problems, it is now. Our president has declared his commitment to bringing fresh solutions to our nation’s antiquated infrastructure.”
“F**K the president, Marion! We all voted for McCain. We’re just hoping to kick some ass and take some names….”
Good luck with your campaign, Michael J, but more importantly, Happy Birthday, brother!
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On her recent trip to the Dominican Republic (with the Science Club
of Sussex County Vo-Tech High School), Michelle befriended a Haitian girl at a Haitian
refugee village. The contingent of 23 New Jersians toured several DR communities delivering
school supplies, clothing, hygiene products, and toys. mjm
Ed. Note: Remarkably, it was later discovered that the youngster's name was Michelle (French for Michelle), she was born on May 17, and
she is in the Haitian National Honor Society! Will wonders never cease?
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A wish fulfilled, a mystery solved.
Nearly two years ago, at HackFest '06 in A2, Michelle was asked if she could make one wish, what would it be?
She suddenly got all serious, placed her finger to her nose in the characteristic way that she does when she
makes wishes, and blurted out "Costa Rica." At that very moment, Amira and Nicole called her to the other
room to play cards, and we never did get an explanation for her mysterious utterance. Well, tomorrow
Michelle leaves on a class trip for -- of all places! -- Costa Rica, and now we all know what in tarnation
she was talking about.
As they say down Costa Rica way, Buen Viaje, Michelle! (Thanks for clearing up this little mystery,
and congratulations on a wish finally come true.)
Rubbing Shoulders.
CoxMeisters Michael J and Tim Omaggio (not related to legendary Yankee outfielder Joe Omaggio) cozy up to LPGA superstar Lorena Ochoa (center) at a recent charity event. Michael, who is shown here trying out his new high-heeled golf shoes (which add 8-inches to his height and which are being considered for this year's Cox Classic gift bag), was still dwarfed by the aura of the talented Ms. Ochoa, who herself is just 4'2", yet averages 264 yards off the tee. Lorena Ochoa was named one of the 100 most Influential people in the World by Time magazine, even though 99.4 % of those polled had no idea what an "LPGA" was and most thought she was the host of that "Mexican cooking show on The Food Network."
The Baker
Rack up another accomplishment for Michael J...Among an ever-growing list, he's played baseball in Tiger Stadium, run the NYC Marathon, hacked away at Augusta, attended two Olympics, and fathered two children. Now, he's baked a loaf of bread. Wow. We're impressed...as is Casey (though MJ could have baked a goat shit-spinach pie, and Casey would have been just as drooley).
Still, it's a thing of beauty, especially for a virgin-baker. Well done, Maestro!
-historic moment-
Her Maiden Voyage!
April 26, 2008 -- Newbie driver Michelle discusses the strategy for backing down her long, narrow driveway with veteran driver/navigator Amira during her cousin's recent visit. Wisely, Michelle first consulted her Mapquest directions that took her from the garage all the way down to Fredon-Marksboro road (but not, unaccountably, until after a 0.2-mile detour across the lawn, around three birch trees, then back to the driveway). Then, just to be safe, she turned on her TomTom GPS unit and with both TomTom's soothing but slightly mechanical voice and Amira's gentle urging, she made it safely down to the street below. After that, the rest of the trip was a snap. As father Michael J noted... It was "Michelle's maiden drive (with someone other than her PARENTS!)." Congratulations, Michelle. And here's hoping that you don't have to wait until Amira's return before you get to go solo again!
-shameful family secret revealed-
HB, MJ!
MJ, shown here in the only published ad (Woman's Day, September 1964) of his short-lived child modeling career. The rest of the story: At just 8-years-old, he abruptly quit the trade for good right after this classic came out. You see, his visage was immediately and unfortunately recognized by one of his classmates, who saw it while aimlessly leafing through the magazine at the dentist's office. The word spread like I Can't Believe It's Not Butter, and soon poor, young Michael, who received $25 for his services, was being ridiculed mercilessly by family; friends; school chums and enemies alike; complete and utter strangers; Bob the mailman; Mr. Asmus; Mrs. Munger; Becky Servis; Tammy; Dora; Mrs. Tideswell; Pastor Ted; Mrs. Smokevitz; the Ramiriz family (who called him a joto); Joe, the Sacred Heart custodian; and even Monsignor Hardy, who in later years, wouldn't let him try out for altar boys. The end result of all this was that the now-brooding youngster smartly turned to football, baseball, and Skoal for redemption and to bolster his battered boy-manhood. One must concede that in this venture, Michael J has been wildly successful, and even today -- decades later -- exhibits his unquestioned manliness by smoking long, fat cigars; spitting accurately with his eyes closed; using a chainsaw without goggles; belching in public without apology or second-thoughts; listening to sportsbabble while commuting long distances; making meaty chili on Saturdays; drinking single malt scotch (and whatever else is handy); letting his ear-hair grow in the winter; smacking the little white ball with alacrity; wearing tightywhities and wife beaters, often simultaneously; watching/listening to every pathetic Yankee game; farting in the car with the windows up, etc., etc.... Fortunately, I took it upon myself to save a copy of this completely forgotten classic, nearly lost to history. It explains so much about what drives Michael J, and clearly, we're all the better for having this little insight. wom
The actual magazine that the ad ran in. I secreted it decades ago for future reference. Smart, huh?
All the best on your Big Day, Mick-Mouse Marion!
Brunch in NYC.
The Marions of Newton wait to be seated at one of the Lower East Side's trendiest restaurants, the Stanton Social, 5/18/08. Along with Michelle, they had driven into the city to join the Marions of A2 for brunch on what was a very activity-packed weekend (prom, birthdays, graduation, etc.). We all immensely enjoyed the long wait, miniscule portions, exhorbitant prices, cramped quarters, and deafening ambience together and then went off to eat silky-smooth gelatto to help fill the void. (Note mafia kingpin Fiorello Pangoni on the right, sulkily sitting and waiting for his table. Several legs were later broken as a result.)
HB, Michelle!
Young Michelle, back in those halcyon days of floral-printed cotton rompers and purple corduroy bucket hats. Amazingly, the prom dress that she wore just last night was repurposed and fabricated from the very romper you see above. Now, instead of relegating it to a far, forgotten corner of her closet, she'll be able to use the dress for years to come as a comforting blankee. Curling up on the couch while watching Survivor 42: Junior Prom reruns, she will dreamily relive over and over again her own memorable prom night out, all the glitz, all the glamour, all the needlessly anxious, fretful moments.... Brilliant. And green, very green, and as we all know, these days, green is good. All the best on your Big Day, Shelley!
Cox Super Star Jack Szigety hit the boards with his Dad, brother, and Mike, wandering the Rutgers campus and sneaking into a basketball game.
The Louis Brown Athletic Center is one of the great arenas in the nation to watch exciting college basketball. The reasons for this are numerous - Excellent sightlines! Outstanding lighting! Incredible acoustics! The fans are right on top of the action. It is also the perfect-sized venue to see a basketball game. With 9,000 fans inside going crazy and making incredible ear-splitting noise, there are not many more intimidating atmospheres in all of college sports. MJM
Later they were ejected from the popular nearby eatery, 'Stuff Yer Face', after a brawl over the last piece of chicken. Said Jack: "Mike is pretty cool."
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DONNA!
The Marion boys squire their girlfriends around trendy Melvindale, Michigan, (circa, 1983), trying to dazzle the pretty coeds with their 'Ultimate' frisbee skills. Apparently the EMU lasses were impressed, even though the sport didn't catch on for another twenty years.
Turkey Bowl - Eastern Conference
Although they look more like three guys who could easily work in the kitchen of Good Fellas Italian (pronounced EYEtalian) Restaurant (see just below), they're actually Steve, making a rare daytime appearance (a free turkey dinner with all the trimming will do that), and a couple of kinfolk. Here's what MJ had to say about the shot, which he took with his impressive new Nikon digital, having just upgraded from his pitiful .5 megapixel cell camera:
"True it wasn't a game in the Ford Field (the park in Dearborn)
tradition, but a surprisingly warm Thanksgiving Day did lead to some
cousins tossing the ball around for an hour or so over at Betty & Joe
Stadium. Pictured with Steve are Tom & Joe Ranalli (Aunt Donna's sister's two sons from Philadelphia)...."
Good place to chow down...
Parsippany, NJ
Just don't dare criticize the food or send anything back....
There's another brainiac in the family...
The National Honor Society has yet another Marion in its ranks! Here, the brilliant young Michelle, absolutely glowing with astutivity and smartitude, poses for her father's annoying camera phone (which, mercifully, he will no longer be relying on after his recent, belated purchase of a real digital camera). The occasion? Her recent induction into the Newton, NJ, branch of the NHS. Michelle, therefore, joins cousins Maggie and Amira (see just below) in this exclusive enclave (and other family members who have yet to step forward), and, of course, her Uncle Bill, who wasn't actually a member, but could have been if his grades had been substantially higher and if he had ever actually studied....
November, 2007 - NHS vet Amira joined her Aunt Donna and NHS newbie Michelle to celebrate her cousin's unanimous election to the venerable organization. (She made it on the first ballot!) The trio celebrated by dressing smartly (that goes without saying for NHSers) and prowling the local junk shops (AKA, antique boutiques), doing their share to elevate the area's retrograde** economy....
**if unsure of this word's meaning, contact one of family's many NHS-ites for clarification.
News from Newton!
-November 3, 2007- With Amira having bussed it in from NYC to enjoy the generous hospitality of her kinfolk, she and Michelle, fresh from dance class, reluctantly pose for Michael J.'s intrusive camera phone -- despite knowing full well that the low-res result will deviate dramatically from their high standards of photographic acceptablilty...
However, knowing also that a delectable Donna-conjured feast -- the aftermath of which is shown above -- awaits them, they play along...
Of course, an industrious Casey, always willing to lend a hand, was there to help clean up the mess...
And later enjoyed a post-meal Lucky on the patio....
Busted!
Newton, NJ, August 2007 - Our exclusive Hidden HackFester Cam caught crafty Casey up to her old tricks -- in this case, sweeping stray Zingerman's bread crusts off the kitchen counter into her mouth. The above photos reveal her time-tested method: Spotting, balancing, reaching, grabbing, gobbling. As her loyal and long-suffering masters have learned over the years, nothing edible -- from tomatoes to birthday cake to used Kleenex (and worse) -- is safe with this insatiably hungry hound in the house.
HB Stevo!
Stephen Marion, absent from this year's HackFest to tend to guitar-strangling duties in NYC, celebrates # two - oh today. Ahh yes, number twenty. Too old to wear a cowboy hat, too young to rent a car. Pictured above, Nicole and Steve share a pensive moment viewing a rerun of The Roy Rogers Show from 1951, (the episode where Nelly Belle overheats and Roy's horse Trigger has to tow Pat Brady's jeep back to the ranch with his tail).
Many happy returns of the day, Steve!
HB, Michael J.
photo by JP Marion, February 1976
Blue Mountain, Collingwood, Ontario -- Crack skier MJM showing off his patented method of stopping: kicking off his left ski and digging his left boot deeply into the snow while racing headlong down the hill with his eyes tightly shut, multiple fingers and toes crossed, and a prayer on his lips.
Back in those days, there was only one other guy more acrobatic on skiis than Michael J. His name was Vinko Bogataj, and he was Slovenia's finest. Mike absolutely idolized him, even going so far as to have an immense poster of the legendary Vinko masking-taped to the wall next to his bed. Before turning out the light at night, MJ would reach over and gently touch that poster, murmuring "Vinko" before he drifted happily off to sleep. It was only after he married Donna that he stopped this rather bizarre practice, as she wouldn't permit the ratty, finger-stained Vinko poster in the house, much less in the bedroom.
Its whereabouts is currently unknown.
Click here to see Vinko in action. (His segment will be self-evident as will the reason for MJ's admiration and emulation of him.)
All the Best on Your Big Day, Michael J.!
HB, Michelle!
HackFest 2006, Ann Arbor -- Fifteen-year-old Michelle shows off her quite astounding ability to strike a match, bring it to full blaze, then hold it until just before it begins to burn her delicate ballerina's fingers -- at which point she blows it out and places it safely in an ashtray. Very Penn & Telleresque. (She then repeated this action from start to finish to the astonishment of all onlookers, cleverly avoiding even the remotest singeing of her slender digits. And just to prove that the display was no fluke, she lit yet a THIRD match, again with no ill effects, though a sudden snort of sulfur made her slightly woozy for a few moments, and she had to decline a request to fire up a fourth. WOW!)
Now that she is 16 (!!), we can't wait to see what new talents will emerge for the entertainment and enjoyment of her enormous and ever-expanding entourage of admirers.
In the meantime, enjoy your Birthday, young lady!
click the pic:
They did it for Mike.
HB, Donna!
1/14/2007 - All the Best to Donna on her landmark B'Day, the one that makes her, at long last, AARP-eligible and that marks a wonderful new stage in her ever-advancing maturity. Here she is (on the right) celebrating herself on a recent girls' night out at Skip's Caberet and Coffee Shop in nearby Sparta, NJ, which fortunately for her, just happened to be featuring the Chippendale-knockoff group, the Hipendales. Known thoughout Eastern Europe for "letting it all hang out," the hunky Hipendales are currently on a worldwide tour straight from their homeland, the Czech Republic, bringing a little bit of joy into the lives highly inebriated women everywhere they perform. Congratulations from us all, Birthday Girl!
Happy 19th, Steve!
From ice cream licks to guitar licks, all in a few short years. Wishing you the best of times on your Big Day, Steve.
Chalk up another one!
Happy Anniversary, Mike and Donna.
August 11, 1984 - In the immediate aftermath of an intense weekend of wedding revelry, the just-hitched couple hangs out with a motley crew of family and friend (Ron Pickle, squatting in front) prior their long-awaited honeymoon departure (made even longer by the vow of chastity-until-marriage that they had both courageously taken years before). All who attended will readily agree that it was a sensational celebration, beautifully planned and orchestrated in every way, and well worth the raging hangovers that many of us acquired in the process. Indeed, the memory of seeing the sodden groom upchucking with abandon at the entrance of the motel pool just hours before his betrothal will always be a cherished one. And that he didn't fall or even totter once during the ceremony was the essence of grace under pressure.
Our glasses are raised once again to you, Donna and Mike. And, having come to our senses, we've filled them with a pleasant pinot noir, NOT tequila this time around!
Lockers live to see another day!
(6/20/06 - NYC) Manliness seeping from every orifice, Michael J catches his breath after single-handedly hoisting Amira's pride and joy (see just above) from her third floor apartment down to West End Avenue to be loaded into the waiting van. Ironically, the very next day, his father-in-law, Big Joe Tolerico, got the hernia!
Hey, Hey, Hey! It's Michael J (at FifTAY)!!
photo by Mathew Brady (with darkroom technician JP Marion)
Okay, maybe Michael J. IS now a whopping Five-OH. But this recent shot clearly shows that, nevertheless, he's still the same dynamic, well-proportioned youngest brother we all know and love. Here he poses at Olde Lafayette Village -- a world-class shopping mall and pizza takeout pavilion in Newton -- having been waiting for Michelle and friends who were doing what 15-year-olds do best...spend money. Ever the dutiful father, banker, and chauffeur, Michael wandered through a few of the stores getting his exercise before finding a bench, lifting a leg and farting silently but satisfyingly through the slats, then napping deeply for 45 minutes until the girls returned and woke him up. He was still a bit groggy when this portrait was taken shortly thereafter. Here's to the Birthday Boy...may he continue to age with grace and that inimitable Mick-Mouse Marion style!
More news from Joisy.
  5/20/2006 -- It was eat, drink, and be merry time in Newton, as the Tolericos and Marions gathered to celebrate the solidification of the teeny-bopper status of young Michelle, now 15, and the exit from teenhood of fashionista, Amira, now 20. In photo 1, the two celebrants team up to puff out the ceremonial candles, heaping twice as much mouth bacteria on the poor cake. Still, most guests opted for a slice. Meanwhile, Mavourneen, momentarily forgetting that she's now 22, double-grips her wine glass, lest a real adult suddenly reach over and snatch it from her. In photo 2, Betty and Joe were pried off the golf course to attend, and when they got a gander at that magnificent fruit torte, were glad they were (although they snuck away immediately after dessert to play a quick nine before dusk); conscientious hostess Donna, wearing her glasses to better inspect the plates, cleans off a smudge mark with her sleeve; and red-nailed Michelle -- her cup already overflowing with the stuff -- sneaks another shot of Reddi Wip, no doubt drawn by the enticing nitrous oxide-propelled combo of hydrogenated palm kernel oil, polysorbate 60, hexaglyceryl destearate, and artificial flavor, not to mention a grab-bag of other polysyllabic chemicals. In photo 3, the Marion girls and stalwart host Uncle Mike attempt to remain awake after such a bountiful meal, but Michelle succumbs to slumber while visions of her date, Mike, and the Junior Prom still dance vividly in her head.
Proud Prom Parents
May 20, 2006 - Michelle and Mike (who was pre-approved by the anxious parents (above) to date their daughter mainly because of his impressive first name and his claim to be distantly related to Donald Trump), pose patiently in their finest eveningwear prior to their escape, er, exit to the Kitatinny High Junior Prom. A fun time was had by all, except for the aforementioned anxious parents who were compelled to remain up well past their bedtimes, pacing and wringing their hands until their precious Michelle's safe return at 11:15 pm, exceeding her curfew by just 15 minutes (but she called!). Clearly, a couple who can be counted on.
HB, Michelle!!!!
 A glum, exhausted Michelle rests her freakishly swollen right foot, a victim of Amira's move into her Upper Westside apartment last September. Michelle had eagerly volunteered to help that day, not knowing at the time that Amira lived on the third floor and that she would actually have to mount three flights of stairs when the elevator wasn't available. After two arduous trips up -- one time carrying a whole box of three-ply Kleenex and the other time, Amira's goosefeather pillow -- the poor lass collapsed, her foot having ballooned into a shocking, elephantine facsimile thereof, as this New York Post file photo clearly shows. Fortunately, a plate of of potato gnocci at a local Italian eatery proved the proper antidote in restoring the faulty foot to its accustomed size. Amira, incidentally, has purchased a bag of potato gnocci and will have it on hand just in case Michelle is interested in helping her move out of that same apartment next month. (There's no word yet from the Birthday Girl on this rather sensitive subject.)
All the Best on your 15th, Michelle!
One year ago...
Happy anniversary to Michael J. (seen above at The GFI '05 guzzling his 9th mug of the morning). It was about this time one year ago that the former avowed Coffee Virgin transmogrified into a Starbucks' Slut, inexplicably and without warning. (See original story below.) Since then, he has continued day by day attempting to make up for the nearly half-century that he foolishly avoided java. On a recent visit to Newton, for instance, RJ snapped the following two photos, showing a couple of the occasions he shared a cup of fair trade, organic, dark-roasted joe with his host. No surprise here. (Coffee will do that to you.)
Richard's cup, left.
Richard's cup, right
Monday, February 13, 2006
Compiled 2 AM E.T. |
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Mick-Mouse Marion, Chairman, Cox Classic, takes a break from a very challenging round of caddying. Boyne Highlands, summer, 1965.
50 Years of Wedded Bliss
(AND blisters, if your count the golf)
Betty and Joe hit a major milestone in September, 2004: a half-century of legally living together. When they tied the knot, they gave it an extra-strong tug, unlike so many couples in this world of disposable marriages. Our heartfelt congratulations to these very special people.
One door closes...
MJ and Big Lou, back in the beginning
...and another one opens...
October, 2004. Here's to Michael J and his new business venture. If the Cox Classic is any indicator, eventis should experience steady, then spectacular growth as the years shuttle forth. Onward, and Upward, MJ.
From the Archives
Michael J and Danny D, circa 1974, holding a bag of their hair following a ceremonial clipping in preparation for the detested football double sessions at SHHS. Some 30 years later, Dan was on hand for golf double sessions -- grueling 18-hole rounds at Fiddler's Elbow on Sunday and Monday.
A fine example of Michael J at his ingratiating best: an artist, a writer, a thoughtful young nephew (circa 1964, contributed by Anne Franco, another long- lost cousin.) Libby, Anne, and Peter are her children, while Andrew is the son of Rosemary, Anne's sister (yet another long-lost cousin).
History Lesson for the Younger Set: Aunt Eleanor, Anne's and Rosemary's mother, was your Grandma Martha Marion's oldest sister. She was married to Harold Fenech, a physician from Canada (he attended the University of Michigan Medical School!). The family settled in Detroit's historic Indian Village, and lived there for decades. One of Harold's claims to fame was that he was bandleader Guy Lombardo's first-cousin. 'Who is this Guy Lombardo feller?' you youngsters -- so defiled by the likes of such "artists" as Fifty Cent, Busta Rhymes, and Notorious B.I.G. -- might ask: Well, he was HUGE in his day -- especially on New Year's Eve with his rendition of Auld Lang Syne, which you can sample here in the
Baseball Been Beeery Good to Mike.
Click here to read the story.
Maize & Blue Balls
Looking for all the world like he wishes he had stayed home and watched the game on TV, Michael J, gloveless hands clenched tightly against the 20 degree temperature, stands frozen and forlorn in this 1979 photo -- which includes WOM (center), the Brothers LeBlanc, and other tailgating friends -- before the UM-OSU contest at the Big House. In fact he should have stayed home: The Wolverines lost 18-15 on the icy tundra with ill-starred QB Art Schlicter guiding the Buckeyes.
 This famous shot, taken by a teeny-tiny Nikon micro-macro lens during a research procedure at the Johns-Hopkins Medical Center, shows four individual sperms racing toward their ultimate goal: the ovaries. Unfortunately, we are told, they petered out at the end and were unable to fertilize. Sorry bastards.
PHOTO BY JPM
GFI Weekend '05. For years, he likened the taste of java to "battery acid." Now, he can't get enough of the stuff. Go figure. Michael J -- uncharacteristically ignoring Chef Richard's brilliant egg and sausage casserole while seated in the BaltiMarion's brand spanking new and beautifully functional kitchen-diningroom combo -- guzzles his ninth cup of the morning. Attempting to make up for lost time, MJ now drinks Starbucks throughout the day and night...even setting his alarm at 4 each morning, so he can get an early start on his coffee-drinking day. His newest hero? Former New York Yankee and coffee maker shill, Joe DiMaggio.
Michael J contributed this shot of the Womens of the House of
Marion-Newton, taken last September at the Cox Classic. Since this wonderful portrait was snapped, Michelle has had her grin de-tinned, and now the two are primed to star in one of those "Who's the mother? Who's the daughter?" commercials.
Yet another bloody Graduate
-SJM, class of 2005-
Superstar Steve caught smirking here after receiving his diploma despite completely blowing off most of his second semester senior year classes. With a budding music career (see below) and given the fact that he had already been accepted by and registered for classes at his next stop along the way, Lebanon Valley College, why bother? Of course, there were some strings attached: To have his accomplishment actually recorded in the school computer, Steve will have to attend Saturday classes for the rest of the summer -- and pay $150 per session. Note commencement speaker Dick Cheney in background. The vice-president was awarded an honorary GED by the school.
Fascination Autumn
Young Steve and fellow F.A. band members rehearse acting studly for the camera in this recent ascap publicity photo. In preparation for the shoot, the foursome spent hours browsing rock album covers from the 60s and 70s, particularly those of groups such as the Rolling Stones, The Beatles, The Who, Led Zepplin, and inexplicably, Peter, Paul, and Mary. Read more about these up and coming musicmeisters right here.
The Travelers
On the road in Guatemala with an exhausted Michael J and Chuck F., circa 1978. Michael was attempting here to recuperate from a severe case of the trots, which had him ejecting bile from multiple orifices -- the result of a bad bowl of pozole a few days earlier in Cuernavaca, Mexico, home of the world famous Palace of Cortes (AKA, the Cuauhnahuac Regional Museum). The Palace dates back from the colonial era, built in 1533 over a "Teocalli or Aztec Temple." It served as the summer residence of the conqueror Hernan Cortes and now houses one of Mexico's finest museums -- which, of course, we failed to visit, as we were far more interested in learning all we could about Mexican cerveza and, unfortunately for Miguel, the wonderful world of pozole.
Mick-Mouse is in the House!
Marion Archives, Mt. Pleasant, Spring, 1957
Wind and Snow Strike 14 States; Record Accumulation in N.Y.
Baltimore and Newton hit hardest.
Published: February 13, 2006
The biggest winter storm in New York City history — destined for lionization as the Blizzard of '06 — buried the region and much of the Northeast yesterday under blowing, drifting, thigh-high snows that crippled transportation and commerce, knocked out power and disrupted life for millions in 14 states, including New Jersey and Maryland, especially on two particular streets, Montego in Parkville and Fredon-Marksboro in Newton.
(story continues below photos)
Parkville, MD. Richard Marion, 54 (but an old 54), was forced to dig out the family van by himself with his sons away at college, his ultra-healthy 9th-grade daughter, Maggie, frivolously off sledding with friends, and his wife of nearly 25-years sleeping in, yet again. He claims that he "almost had a heart attack or two" but stopped in time and went back in the house for a couple of restorative martinis. "That always helps," he said, before falling face first into a snowbank and inadvertently making a snow angel.
Parkville, MD. Young Maggie Marion preferred to go saucering with neighborhood acquaintances instead of helping her nearly-late father shovel the estimated 20-inches of snow that fell on their walkways and driveway. As a result, he almost suffered a fatal heart attack. Note child in background assisting his father with the cleanup.
 Newton, NJ. Plows did their job on historic Fredon-Marksoboro Road (shown above). Local resident Michael J. Marion was just putting the finishing touches on his driveway and was about to go in for several well-earned cups of coffee when a county truck left behind a fresh 8-foot wall of sodden snow across his entrance, just off the street. "You fuckin' fucker! Fuck YOU!" he screamed maniacally to the oblivious plough driver, who couldn't hear him over the din of the big blade scraping along ahead of his massive vehicle. "Fuck!" added Marion, visibily wilting and with his long-suffering wife, Donna -- who has been lobbying for a snowblower for years -- bitterly digging into the newly-deposited load. Meanwhile, back inside the house, the two able-bodied Marion offspring, Steve 18, and sister, Michelle, 14, stretched luxuriously in their respective beds, dreaming cozily of the blueberry pancakes and real maple syrup they would soon be chowing down on -- as soon as their mother got back inside and set to work in the kitchen, that is.
(continued from above) After two months of humbug winter, the region awoke to a milk-white morning and an awesome storm that exceeded all forecasts, with snowfalls that transformed straw-drab landscapes into February postcards and brought out skiers, sledders, and other wonderlanders.
Plows were out in force, too, and working around the clock. But there was so much snow that only major arteries were expected to be open for the start of the workweek today, and officials forecast sluggish commuting for anyone who failed to take mass transit. Schools will be open in New York City, but not in some other areas.
The storm — a great Crab nebula 1,200 miles long and 500 miles wide on satellite images and a ghostly apparition on the ground — crawled up the Eastern Seaboard overnight with winds that gusted up to 60 miles an hour, and cloaked the cities and countrysides from North Carolina to coastal Maine with 12 to more than 27 inches of snow, which broke or challenged records in many locales.
A total of 26.9 inches fell in Central Park, just a few short blocks away from 225 West End Avenue, where Parsons design student Amira Marion resides. "What does it matter anyway?" she said "They give us so much homework, I don't even have time to look out the window, much less actually go outside and enjoy the stuff! I absolutely love New York. I wish I could actually live here!" she bitched while dunking her Balthazar 100% whole wheat croissant into her Dean and DeLuca hot cinnamon spice tea while sewing up another assignment. "Even the homeless have more fun than I do," she lamented while putting the kettle on for another "cuppa," this time dipping into her special-blend organic Pomegranate Perfection Tea, available only at the Sensuous Bean on 70th Street.
The snow is the most since record-keeping began in 1869, the National Weather Service reported. In what weather experts called a remarkable and relentless fall that began late Saturday afternoon and ended late yesterday, it eclipsed the legendary blow of Dec. 26-27, 1947, which dropped 26.4 inches and not only killed 77 people but also froze two feral cats stiff in their tracks. It also easily surpassed the memorable No. 3 and No. 2 storms, of Jan. 6-7, 1996, which left 20.2 inches, and March 12-14, 1888, the notorious Blizzard of '88, which dropped 21 inches, but since not one single human being is still alive from that era, nobody really cares about this particular storm anymore.
Announcing itself at dawn over New York with theatrical claps of thunder and lightning that roused some people from sleep and caused others to simply fart loudly in an unconscious reaction, the storm dropped snow at phenomenal rates of 3 to 5 inches an hour between dawn at 7 a.m. and early afternoon, obliterating the skyline and anything more than a few feet away. During that time, more than 14 inches fell in Central Park and 16 inches at La Guardia Airport, where the snow topped out at 25.4 inches, another record.
"That's about as hard as it can snow in New York City, and it's extremely rare," said Jeff Warner, a meteorologist with Pennsylvania State University, stating the obvious and wondering why HE had been consulted to do so when there are at least a dozen top meteorologists living in NYC where the storm hit who could have said exactly the same inane thing. "Would they ask NYC meteorologists for an opinion if we got nailed here in JoePaLand? I don't THINK so!"
Across the region, the 24-hour accumulations were equally awesome: 24.5 inches in the Bronx and in New Rochelle in Westchester County, 21.3 inches in Newark, 20 inches in Saddle Brook, N.J., 19.9 inches in Islip, N.Y., 26 inches in Danbury, Conn., and 30.2 inches in Fairfield, Conn., the highest in the region. Elsewhere, accumulations were 19 inches in Robbinsville, N.C.; 12 inches in Leesburg, Va.; 8.8 inches in Washington; 15.5 inches in Hockessin, Del. and 22.5 inches in Columbia Hills, Md.
Oddly, the record snowstorm in New York City was not technically a blizzard there, although it met the criteria on Long Island and elsewhere: winds of at least 35 miles an hour for three consecutive hours, visibility of less than a quarter mile, and a minimum of one snowbound SUV every tenth of a mile for no less than an aggregate of 39.6 miles.
Whatever its official status in Gotham, the storm, a classic northeaster, was so powerful and the snow so deep that it will surely be remembered as a blizzard, no matter what. "We are talking about a technical definition," said Jeff Tongue, a part-time meteorologist and clairvoyant with the National Weather Service at Brookhaven, N.Y. "Who gives two shits about THAT when you're wading up to your willy in this sloppy, slippery stuff, yo?"
A Foreshadowing?
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