The Inside Press

Magazines serving the communities of Northern Westchester

Inside Thoughts

In Chappaqua on April 14th: Remembrance & Dedication of the New Casey Taub Field

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New Castle is a town that loves its kids. Our schools are lauded, our sports events well-attended, our fundraising efforts effortlessly successful. We are proud to be a town that is filled with high-achieving, successful young people who are set to contribute greatly to society in whatever they do.

Which is why it’s so especially devastating to our community when a young person is taken too soon. One example of this was the sad loss of Casey Taub in July of 2017. Casey was a Sophomore at Greeley, an accomplished soccer player who had played through the ranks of AYSO and CYSC as well as Club soccer, proudly always wearing #22. His Dad was always on the sidelines, always volunteering, and even the longest-serving Commissioner of Chappaqua AYSO for over a dozen years (now Commissioner Emeritus). The family was a quintessential suburban soccer family until glioblastoma, a type of brain tumor, struck Casey at age 14.

Casey fought his disease bravely for two years, enduring both chemo and radiation, and cheering on his teammates from the sidelines, but ultimately his young body succumbed to the cancer. Since Casey’s untimely death at age 16, his Dad Jonathan has worked tirelessly to raise funds and awareness for the Matthew Larson Foundation for Pediatric Brain Tumors, of which he is now a Board Member. Fundraising efforts use the hashtag #TaubStrong, and there have been numerous successful fundraising events over the past 5 years. The Casey Taub Spirit Award is also presented every year by Jonathan at the Horace Greeley High School. Also at the high school, the CT22 Club raises money for the Matthew Larson Foundation. In addition, the “#TaubStrong Tee Off” golf tournament will be this October 3rd at The Whippoorwill Club. For more information on the golf tournament, you may contact Jonathan Taub via email at jt@tlsearch.com.

Now, through the efforts of friends of the Taub family working hand in hand with the entire New Castle Recreation Commission, the Town of New Castle is proud to announce the dedication of Casey Taub Field, at Gedney Park. The upper soccer field at the park, site of so many great moments in Casey’s life, will be rededicated in his honor and renamed Casey Taub Field, with a ceremony and plaque unveiling on Friday, April 14th at 4:30.

Casey’s father Jonathan said, “I would prefer that we never had to be here, of course, but it’s just such a beautiful gesture and I’ll always be grateful for it. Anyone who comes up there to the soccer field will say Casey’s name. They’ll do that forever, and that makes me proud.”

New Castle Town Supervisor Lisa Katz commented, “By dedicating this soccer field in memory of Casey Taub, we honor his life and his love and embodiment of the true spirit of the game – passion, dedication, and teamwork. Though he may no longer be with us, his love for soccer will live on through this field and the countless young athletes who will play on it. We honor his memory and the unwavering commitment of his family to our community and our soccer program. This field will represent not only a place to play, but a symbol of the strength and unity that can be found in coming together around a shared passion.”

Please consider joining with the community on April 14th at 4:30 to recognize and honor the light and life of Casey. If you are interested in donating to the Matthew Larson Foundation for Pediatric Brain Tumors in Casey’s memory, you may do so at https://www.ironmatt.org/

When There’s A Dog in Your Life

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BY MAGGIE MAE with RONNI DIAMONDSTEIN

“I’m a dog – a very special dog. I’m a black-and-white, Toy Parti Poodle. My name is Maggie Mae, and I am the Inside Chappaqua Roving Pup Reporter. With a nose for news, I will give you the dog’s eye view of Chappaqua and beyond.” This is how it all began in May 2010 when I started my very first column for Inside Chappaqua magazine. I am honored to be back writing again for the 20th anniversary issue.

Dogs can make a difference in your life in so many ways. My owner tells people that I am the dog that changed her life, and that makes me very happy because I feel so lucky to live with her for the past fifteen years.

“Nobody will ever love you as much as your dog does.” Jean Craighead George

George wrote that in her book “How to Talk to Your Dog.” She was one of my favorite interviews. And truer words were never written. My unconditional love for my owner warms her heart. I am always happy to be around her, and I think she feels the same way. She often takes me with her in the car for company especially when the ride is long. I like to ride in the car. I’m a great travelling companion, and I love when she takes me to a hotel on vacation with her.

“My little dog – a heartbeat at my feet.” Edith Wharton

I know that during the pandemic lockdown my owner appreciated my company a lot. We already were used to being together most of the time since she retired from teaching nine years ago and now works from home as a writer. I know that I have enhanced her life because she thinks about me more than she thinks about herself. And she talks to me all the time. She calls me a “lovebug” and I show her my love with cuddles and kisses.

“I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me, they are the role model for being alive.” Gilda Radner

And even though she’s lived alone most of her life and was never really lonely, I know that she never feels alone because I’m always here for her. I make my owner laugh a lot. She is more relaxed when she’s with me, especially when I stick my head under her hand so she will pat me or when I curl up next to her feet and give her my version of a hug.

“Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.” Rodger A. Caras

In our home there is a coffee mug with the saying, “dogs are the best people.” I know I am more than a pet to my owner. I am her family. She is my person. She takes good care of me–I even have pet medical insurance–and she cooks for me. And in return, I know when she needs me by her side. The more she loves me, the more I love her.

Ronni with Maggie Mae PHOTO BY RANDI CHILDS

“Dogs are better than human beings because they know but do not tell.” Emily Dickinson

She meets a lot of people because of me. The funniest thing is that when we take our walks–and we walk quite a bit–people often say, “Hi Maggie Mae,” to me, and she thinks they don’t know her name. She doesn’t really mind that at all. I’m her child after all, so this pleases her when I’m acknowledged.

“Dogs are our link to paradise.” Milan Kundera

I’ve become her muse of sorts. She has had more writing opportunities because of me. She started the Maggie Mae Pup Reporter blog and has written several stories with me as the main character that are posted on it. I also think she is amused that I act like her. She is very curious, and I am too. And we both like to know what’s going on in the neighborhood.

“Dogs have a way of finding the people who need them.” Thom Jones

My owner says we have a powerful connection, so I asked her to say a few words. “Life is so much better when there’s a dog in your life. One of my friends says that the chance to be loved by a dog is one of the true gifts of life. I couldn’t agree more,” she said. “Maggie Mae, you’re my girl and you bring out the very best in me!”

Call Me

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Years ago, everybody seemed to be blasting the song “Lean on Me” from the radio 24/7. The chorus repeated, “If you need a friend, call me.” This reprise seems to not have aged well as simply phoning a friend has become an anomaly replaced by the sterile, often misunderstood text.

Don’t get me wrong, I like the simplicity of a text to make plans, share a photo, update a situation, know where our children are, but honestly, I’m increasingly hungry for the human voice. It feels weird to text a friend to ask if now’s an ok time to talk.

My mother used the phone as an instrument and practiced hours a day with diligence and pleasure. Every day she spoke to her mother and sister numerous times, a cigarette and Sanka at the kitchen table, or the phone cradled between her shoulder and ear as she did dishes or polished her nails.

When I became a teen driving to a friend’s house, the requisite call or a “ring once” would be made upon arrival and when I left for home after dark. That would have been a great opportunity for a text. Had cell phones been the norm back then, the clicking of her texting all day, not hearing her voice and laugh filling the house would have been a loss–our home that much quieter and less animated.

Our voices carry who we are in the world and imprint deeply, an auditory image pressed into the airwaves perhaps forever.

My mom did become savvy with changing technology, working her remotes and computer with finesse, storing pictures, cataloging her collectibles, phone programmed with speed dials of family and emergency numbers. I remember a year or two before she passed, her brain a bit foggy, she asked if I could get her “the text”. Of course, I was amused but also impressed that she wanted to keep up. I did not, I admit, get her an updated phone as I knew she would be texting me all day long. As a working woman, the numerous daily calls were enough.

Wisely I kept the recorder from my long-disconnected landline, her messages captured for all time. Sometimes I play them back to hear her loving voice as I hit repeat until the tears fall.

Now bridging two worlds, I worry that we have fallen into an unnatural awkwardness that makes calling someone to say hi uncomfortable. I can’t help but wonder what the future holds as technology fills the generation gap potentially becoming the standard. This was not so just a few years ago when a living breathing voice on the other end gave space for a natural conversation. If one was busy, it was ok to say, “I’m busy, I’ll call you back when I have a few minutes.”

Are we always too busy, or just addicted to the “wham bam thank you ma’am” of a quickie text exchange?

Mental health experts have opined on the detriment of the lack of socialization during lock down on the development of children, but what about us adults? Many of us have had dramatic lifestyle changes due to the pandemic which, combined with the over reliance on texting, further isolates.

I’m not saying I want to abandon technology and all the time saving, educational and organizational benefits, but not to the exclusion of a good telephone call which no font or emoji can replicate.

This holiday, I did a fair amount of soul searching trying to figure out what I needed most going forward into the New Year. Yes, the typical stuff came up like reading more, exercising regularly, taking a trip here and there, but what I really want is more connection.

Though I have an outgoing personality it might be assumed that I’m a person who needs a large circle of friends juggling a social calendar like keeping spinning plates in the air but actually I am anything but that. A handful (and five is just about perfect) of reliable, no nonsense friends to walk with and share an occasional phone call to talk about nothing and everything is more the aching need.

So I called people. Just like Mom did. Old friends, new friends, family and neighbors I’d like to know better. I did not apologize for calling. I simply said, “I’ve missed you, how have you been?” The surprise then delight I was met with on the other end of the call across the corners of this earth was like a long drink of water with two straws on a very hot day.

So now I have created my New Year “New Normal”. I’m gonna call my friends. Be ready, it can happen any moment I get the urge. And I hope you call me too. If you’re already my friend, you have my number.

The Grace in Grace

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Way back in 2008, I was in the middle of writing a memoir about my struggle with bipolar disorder. I also began writing humorous essays about my observations on life. I submitted one of them to Grace of Inside Chappaqua magazine. My essay, ‘The Creation of a Radical Baseball Evolutionist,’ was my first published piece.

A little after that, Grace and I met for lunch. I must admit, I was a bit nervous to meet a publisher. It was a warm spring day, so we decided to meet at a local restaurant and sat outside. I didn’t know anything about Grace or editing or publishing. I arrived extra early and began to imagine who Grace was. Did she wear corporate pantsuits? Pencil skirts? Or dresses? Was she approachable? Conversational or reserved? What am I doing here??? I feel like a fraud! I’ve never published anything!!!

As my inner-voice began to spiral and play on my insecurities, I looked up and saw this curly-haired woman with a warm smile headed my way. She was dressed in a whimsical pastel floral skirt with a white tee. She looked a bit harried and apologized for being a whole five minutes late. She said she had a crazy morning. Grace spoke in a soft, casual tone that immediately made me feel comfortable. We talked about the start of her magazine, and I shared that I was writing a memoir on my struggle with bipolar disorder. She immediately was interested and asked me a bunch of questions, and said she’d love to read it when it came out. When it was published a year later, Grace reached out and said she read my book while sitting on a beach and wanted to assign one of her writers to interview me.

Over the past 15 years, Grace has been gracious enough to publish 16 of my articles. She has championed my cause and has given me a platform highlighting mental health. She has sent me on assignments to cover local events. She even gave me my first cover story. Grace was and still is open to reading anything I submit, including a few humorous essays. Although I’ve never experienced what it’s like to work with other editors or publishers, what I will say is that if you’re a writer, Grace is the kind of editor/publisher who allows a writer to write in their own voice. She is very much hands-off and respects the writer’s perspective and creativity. When she does interject, it’s usually more of gentle guidance on slight revisions and word count.

Over the years, not only do we share a professional relationship, but we’ve become good friends and confidants. Above all, Grace is a playful spirit, and it doesn’t hurt that she enjoys my warped sense of humor. I admire her independent spirit. She’ll go to movies and restaurants by herself and travel solo to far-away places. Once upon a time, though less so now, she’d even visit karaoke joints and sing, too.

What’s wonderful about our friendship is that we can go from sheer silliness to deep, meaningful conversations about what’s happening in each other’s lives. Grace shares her insecurities, her flaws, her mistakes. She’s not afraid to be vulnerable. When I say vulnerable, I mean in a good way–in a strong, brave way. So, when she asked me to write something for this 20th anniversary edition, I said only if I could write something on her. At first, she wasn’t sure, but I insisted she let me try, and, of course, she’s the one who could nix it.

So, if you’re reading this, it’s because Grace, once again, was open to being beautifully vulnerable. That truly is the grace in Grace.

A Season of Hope

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Lynda Baquero
Lynda Baquero
PHOTO COURTESY OF NBC4 NEW YORK

Spring is a time for hope, and every year I hope that my garden will overcome my challenge of trying to develop a green thumb.

I was so excited when we moved to Northern Westchester about seven years ago, eager to finally have a proper garden. In my Manhattan apartment, I planted hearty annual flowers every spring, hoping they would survive the winds of our 9th floor balcony. Here, I would have plenty of space to plan and plant flowers, herbs, and vegetables.

I spotted an area in my yard that received a healthy dose of sun and could be watered by our sprinkler system. I bought two 4’x4’ raised garden beds made out of wood and loads of healthy organic soil and planned what I would grow. Since we have plenty of colorful flowers around the property, I figured I’d concentrate on fresh vegetables and herbs I could use in my cooking.

As a reporter for WNBC-TV in New York City, I research news and consumer stories every day, then cultivate sources and head out with a photojournalist to gather elements and learn new information about our topic. I took a similar approach to gardening: scouring magazines for ideas and choosing to grow tomatoes, basil, rosemary, among others.

My amateur ambition pushed me to start them as seeds, indoors. After securing a couple of disposable aluminum roaster pans (very fancy) and a drip tray underneath, I was thrilled when the first pops of green sprouted through the soil. Whew! First part down.

Now, it’s time to transplant them…well, you win some and you lose some. The survivors were showered with my attention, albeit admittedly mostly on weekends, but there were several mornings where I was able to dedicate some time to nurture my new growths before my morning editorial meeting in the newsroom at 9 a.m. Those first few hours of the day are always so peaceful.

That first year, as I explored new dishes in which I could incorporate those fresh herbs and vegetables, I didn’t plan on our neighborly woodland creatures to nourish themselves on my vegetation. Lesson learned; my husband, Richard, who runs his own luxury interior design firm, advised me to get a wire fence around the garden bed for the second year and offered a design for it. Thank you, Richard!

The next time, I was determined to have more success. After all, I help people solve their problems every day in my role as a consumer reporter on TV. I should be able to solve some problems in my own backyard–literally.

Well…the tomatoes did come in very nicely that summer. Except maybe too nicely. I hadn’t accounted for having a couple pecks of tomatoes from these sprawling vines. Even though I love salads, and my family loves their tomato and mozzarella, there’s only so much extra tomato sauce you can make and use. Richard and our two teenage daughters, Illeana and Carolina, urged me to rethink quantities for the following year. Just as any budding journalist works to hone their skills over the course of their career, I was getting an education in the challenges of gardening.

The following year, there were adequate–but not copious–tomato plants, and we added carrots, lettuce, lavender, and cilantro. Yummy! However, I had also planted mint; no one warned me about their invasive roots. Another lesson learned. In writing this article, I discovered that one way to help control the roots is to grow mint in a container in your soil. I’ll try that this year.

Subsequent spring and summer seasons saw me add a variety of peppers to my garden, especially jalapeño and shishito (some shishito sauteed with olive oil and coarse salt until they blister–super tasty!) I no longer felt the need to prove that I could start from seedlings, and then take a risk by transplanting them. I occasionally used a short cut and bought some “mature” plants in a container and transplanted them into the garden. Those always survived; problem solved.

Then, we were all locked down in our homes. It started in the spring of 2020, the one year most of us can remember where the season didn’t translate to hope. Instead, despair sent us searching for new ways to find strength, courage and tenacity. It would seem that many found them in home gardening that year, because you couldn’t find seeds anywhere!

For some reason, 2022 was my “Annus Horribilis.” I don’t know if it was the lack of rain, perhaps combined with my lack of focus, that didn’t provide the fruits (and vegetables) of my labor.

This season, however, hope springs eternal. Every year, as we do in life, we learn from our successes–and our failures. I hope the spring of 2023 will serve up the best garden yet.