Just Bits and Pieces!

Multi-tasking isn't for everyone!  At the very top of that list and an art-form in its own right, the ability to listen and carry on more than one converation simultaneously.  Although I can probably make a good size list of those much better at this than me, it's probably safe to say, I can hold my own.  There have been times that listening intently to just one conversation would have produced better results. In retrospect, some of the conversations, even in small amounts, produced some great stories and outstanding moments.

Good, bad or ugly some of the Egg-Nazi's jokes were great, while others had a tendency to backfire.  As the story goes, an anonymous, off color jokester relays the story of a full figured young woman with a larger than normal upper body.  Repeating a joke, not my forte, I will forego the meaty part of the blurb.  If my memory is correct,  it usually is, the punch line "I'll take two pickets to Titsburg!", will forever be etched in my mind, as will the the look of disgust on the young woman's face, who just happened to have a very large set of "pickets to Titsburgs!" The clarification for that statement is: 1) I have no idea who the young woman was; 2) She happened to be the next in line to place an order at Fred's News and as she came to the counter she only heard the words, "two Titsburg";  3) Mr. Bill and friends were exchanging this joke, insisting they were whispering. For the record they were not, which resulted in the young voluptuous woman taking offense; 4) She insisted they were taking about her, they were not.  Had I not calmed the woman down, I feared for the life of every one of the male species present in the place at that precise moment.  Had she sued for sexual harassment, it would have been a tough case.  Reason being, the slew of obscenities spewing from her face far surpassed the snickers of an overheard, albeit misguided punch line, that had nothing to do with her "two pickets to Titsburg!"  Did we loose a customer?  No, we never saw her again but prior to that fateful morning, we'd never see her before either!

"Was it a fling," not sure, I only heard bits and pieces of the conversation but, "I think so!"  A hint of a whisper begins to float across the room...."a pregnant nun? no, no get the gun? What gun? Not a gun, what am I hearing.  Oh a piece of gum..... anybody got gum. " You got any gum on ya Dick?"  with a twinkle in his eye..."only if you put it there!"   Just the bits and pieces, ins and outs of passing conversations, one never know what others have heard!

Falling into the Autumn Season

Normal weather for this southern peninsula state is hot, so when making a  recent statement, " this summer's weather has been so hot!", I should not have been surprised by the look of, "what the....do you expect, you live in Florida for goodness sake!"  Taking direction from Mr. Bill's past conversations telling me "say what you mean, mean what you say," I thought for just a nano-second he might be right, so I continued, "What I really mean is.....it has been so humid here this summer!"  For the record, I received that same dazed and confused look followed by, "did you not hear me, you live in Florida for goodness sake!"  All is not lost however, I followed Mr. Bill's directions to the tee, they still didn't understand, I can handle that!  The best part is Mr. Bill was wrong and I even got him to kind of admit his blunder, although the secret about that is between you and me!!!!  His exact words, "One would have to live here, to understand your thought process," falls into that category known as the gray area.  With that in mind....he was wrong!

Front page story in today's online news.........."Because of the devastation caused by this year's Tropical Storm Irene, leaf-peepers should turn out in droves to see the damages."  Really!  Personally I don't think they should be called leaf-peepers. The usual bucolic settings are now areas of devastation, roads completely washed away, many homes ripped from their foundations by the torrential rains rushing from the mountains, wildlife habitats in complete disarray and "leaf-peepers' are on their way.  With all do respect, the inhabitants of this region still need to make a living, so perhaps tourists looking at fall foliage will help the minds, bodies and wallets of the people living and working within the region.  Hopefully, the mindset of the tourists will be one of support for their neighbors in these areas and not one of disgust at not being able to get around.  The other point being, hopefully they will truly be leaf-peepers.

The autumn season in the northern states is very much an artist's palette of color. The rich hues of brilliant red, yellow and orange against the crisp blue of the cooler autumn sky is second to none in majestic beauty. The warmth of these colors conjure memories of apple picking season, pumpkin carving, piling fallen leaves in huge piles and jumping in them.  As a child there was something very special about raking leaves in the neighborhood and them jumping into the center of this giant pillow of leaves.  If I close my eyes, I can almost hear the squeals of delight as leaves and kids were flying in all directions.  One of my most vivid memories is the smell of those leaves burning....something we are no longer allowed to do.  Yet that smoke curling upward into the cool evening skies, now seems so fitting considering it was almost as if it signaled closure, Mother Nature's bedtime.

Florida does have seasons but one has to be a year round inhabitant to appreciate them all, each equally as beautiful as the four distinct seasons to our north.  Annuals and perennials are much the same, but planting of these annuals in the south, are a year round option.  The gorgeous sweet smelling vibrant colored petunia, loves three out of the four southern seasons, summer being much too hot for these tender beauties.  The Egg-Nazi is patiently awaiting Mother Nature's signal.  As she neatly tucks in her northern climates for their cold, snowy and long winter's sleep, she allows the southern soils to cool just enough, her new "children" are waiting.  The grounds now moist enough from the monsoon proportions of rain that have occurred almost daily, these new beauties will push through and soon the vibrant colors of the southern autumn season will fill the landscapes.  Snowbirds will return, as will the many feathered friends seeking refuge from the cold northern lands.  This peninsula is again bustling with activity, visitors from everywhere soaking up the warmth of the sun.  Personally we do not mind the heat of summer, my older bones actually appreciate it.  If options were given, I would still take the summer heat over the cold of the winter.



  

And the Emmy goes to...........!

Billed as TVs greatest night, the Emmy's recognize the best and the brightest stars of television. With that said, the Cast of Characters that have, are or will take up residence in my mind, all deserve recognition and equal billing. It go without saying, my family has the highest honors, without their exploits, idiosyncrasies, love and encouragement, my memory banks would indeed have had meager deposits. To the Cast of Characters that have enriched our lives, the new additions that are carving their indelible niches in my overloaded warped brain on a daily basis, we savory every conversation, morsel of info, quirky habit and the monumental amount of life's ups and downs, strange habits, victories and pitfalls.They are the foods that nurture my imagination, giving me reason to preserve and protect this craziness!


In a world filled with horrors of "evil doers", murder, rape, famine, non-stop natural disasters and whatever else, "sells", we forget, we need a reason to smile. Just waking up in the morning is reason to smile. Years of early morning wakeup calls were always made brighter by someone opening the front door, "Good Morning!" Although my schedule now varies from opening one week to closing the next, it is always started with a smile and extremely meaningful "hello!" In my book, Great Guest Service begins from within!

Over the past fifteen months we have explored early morning attitudes that range from zombie like to disgusting hangovers, from quiet and reserved to over the top. Whether back in the small New England village or at the world's largest and best know theme park, be it known there are morning people and then there are ....well let's just say....some not so much! For years I had to memorize who frowns, who smiles, who speaks, growls and stares but with the massive amounts of people who frequent the location I now manage, eye contact is a must, the abilty to pick up body language and the genuine smile are the necessities needed to melt even the toughest early morning or tired late night ogre!

Our early morning group at Fred's was a great cross-section of society and I praise the good Lord for their daily teachings! David & Doug, helpful, gentle and definitely morning people, always eager to greet their early morning family whether the family was ready or not! "Lee do you ever smile? Oh forgive me that was a smile!" Then there is our Frankie the Mailman, who reminded much of the youngest brother of the family, always ready to secretly agitate, we call it "Mom he's looking at me syndrome!" Yet Frankie, so smug, snickering and looking so angelic! When caught in the act, a look of complete innocence followed by the hearty laugh. Of course one cannot forget "Mary, Mary quite Contrary", always smiling and ready to help anyone start their day. The observers, Glenn and Doc sitting ever so quietly just behind the "counter setters" waiting to start a conversation just because they knew how to fire up the crowd, especially if Delaval was in the building, but then being an "over the top personality", Delaval fired up at almost anything. The thought of a "tree hugger" being one up was a "priceless" conversation starter.

As the little Fred's News building now stands empty, it's wall probably still adorned with memorabilia, one can almost hear the lively chatter that filled it's rooms on a daily basis. As I walk my location, conversing with people from all over the world, I realize as different as they are, their personality, looks, body language and their everyday needs are strikingly similar and I think back to my "Fred's News family" and say thank you!

No, is Not an Acceptable Answer!

In our ever changing world, inspiration for my stories come from some of the most unexpected sources.  They may be freestanding, nothing to do with our former restaurant, yet in some strange and perhaps twisted way, be intertwined. It is also highly probable these wee memories that are in the outer most orbit on the "dark side" of my brain, are racing towards an asteroid like collision with the recent events that are waiting to be deposited into the memory banks of my overloaded chaotic brain.

It has been just over a year since these memories began spilling out and arranging themselves on the "pages" of my little computer.  I write, read, write, re-read, re-write and then as if some solar powered light bulb clicks on, I smile, this idea, this memory that is fighting, much like the small child crying, "no pick me first, it's my turn!", appears before me, in place, ready for all to read.  "A Constant Place" recently published in book form, is still a source of wonder, pride and ironically, an inspiration to me.  Recently I was asked, is this work, your first book and is it "A Labor of Love" which is defined as: productive work performed voluntarily without material reward or compensation.  Emphatically "NO!" Silly person of course I want compensation.  Having a book published, naturally the next step would be to sell it.  Sales have been going well, yet I must admit it is strange to see my name as the author.  Writing has always been a secret passion for which, I never had time.

With the mindset, I will write when I get older, quickly dashed by the reflection in the "Mirror, mirror on the wall" announcing "Fairest, I think not, crow's feet, gray hair and laugh lines near, honey old age IS here!" At forty, I promised myself someday I would write a book.  At the time, inspirations seemed to be all around, time or the allocation of such wasn't even remotely an option, so as all great wannabe authors do, I chalked it up to "writer's block."  Truth be known, it is simply procrastination and the old "I work better under pressure thing!"  Seventy-five percent of a quarter century has nearly passed and finally by the Grace of God,  a promise I had made to myself, has been kept.

For years I have preached, "No, is not an acceptable answer," the constant battle of stubbornness and procrastination now finally over, determination and dedication have finally become the victors!  There are many more stories, hopefully my new friends will also provide fodder that will nourish and awaken my mind.  Will I be able to intertwine them with my past life, hopefully, the past and present would really enjoy each other's company.  Should they meet, sparks would fly, laughter abound, lasting friendships would develop. Mr. Lightyear, a good friend of mine once said, "please call me Buzz and remember it is always "Infinity and Beyond!" With that said, my life has an always will be "A Constant Place!"

      

Hope comes from Joey

Today a day of memories, reflections of the past, unless we have learned from our mistakes, one question remains; will history repeat itself?  We watch, listen and perhaps wonder.  No longer living near the epicenter of this remembered tragedy, I wondered:  would people understand, would they feel the same emotions as those who had once witnessed the grandeur that had so suddenly been destroyed; did they know anyone who had witnessed this horrific event?  Questions unanswered, people asked, "did you ever see the Towers before 9/11?" "Yes, of course, the Towers stood high above the city skyline."  With that, memories began to surface, our brood all accounted for, I thanked my Maker, I new no one that was lost that day, yet for the people that filled the little restaurant on West Main St., that moment seemed to be frozen in time.

 As we turned on the old TV, eyes became fixated on the screen, the first Tower, smoke pouring from all sides, debris and my God, people screaming and free falling from the Tower, news cameras capturing each morbidly disturbing moment.  Then as if a giant predator were invading from the heavens, that second plane hit.  We watched, no words spoken, only gasps, from the growing group of patrons.  As the door opened, many more filed in, looking for friends.  I wondered as I gazed upon their faces, what was possibly passing through each mind. 

Today as we look back, I close my eyes and still see those faces, eyes upturned, locked on the TV screen, but it is the dazed and utterly confused looks, I remember most.  There was no usual banter between our patrons that fateful morning, no laughter, no greetings or playful jabs.  Just silence, frightening uncertain silence.  Wanting to hear noise, I walked from the little restaurant. Upon reaching the sunlight, I began inhaling large amounts of fresh air, "Please dear God, make it go away."  The fresh air exhilarating, but the usual sounds of traffic passing, voices and laughter from people walking by, strangely missing.  Even the usual soothing sound of the cold fresh and vibrant waters of Beaver Brook, tumbling over the stones, worn smooth from years of cleansing, seemed as though it had disappeared, stopped and confused much like the people, now standing alone, yet altogether, inside my little restaurant.  Today, it is the faces my mind has pulled deep from within.

Remembrance is everything.  For those to young to remember it will be their thirst for knowledge that may stop the world's craziness, laying to rest mankind's need to self destruct.  The answer is always, how?  Hopefully through open-minded education, not just "what they want us to hear."  Opinions, truths and myths will always bombard our inner most psyche, but it is the opened mind, in search for answers, that needs to prevail.

Yesterday, in passing conversation, a young woman, intent on teaching her young family what is so right with our world and how we must protect it, shared a conversation she had with her five-year old son, who has just begun school. "Joey you weren't even born ten years ago, you have no idea what happened on September 11th!" "Do so Mommy, so sad and very bad, alot of people we don't even know, died that day!"

The sounds of nature still heard, the hustle and bustle of everyday life returned.  Through tears of horror and disbelief, our world continues.  If my little friend Joey has anything to say about it, this piece of history will not repeat itself. 

It's Corn-Chopping Time!

Recent meteorological events along the east coast allow me to wonder a couple of things!  Is someone really watching over my life?  Our years at Fred's News saw only one tropical storm, two," hundred year" floods indirectly caused by nature. Whether it was dumped upon the tiny hamlet of Baltic in frozen form or in monsoon like proportions, Mother Nature was to blame.  In hindsight most of the horrific flooding could have been avoided.  "Analysis leads to paralysis" definitely sums up the biggest reason behind the why these events occurred.  Money or the lack of, caused most of the "paralysis."  As with all forms of government mumbo jumbo the fact remains, we spend too much money, people get ripped, officials aren't re-elected, they become part of the unemployment statistics.  However, keep the taxes down, get re-elected, adoration by the masses occurs, everything is "cool beans" until.............Mother Nature gets a "wild hair", dumps her anger on us all, adoration by the masses turns to the "ugly mob", so......the system of checks and balances occurs!  Not the one directly related to supply and demand, but the one of "finger pointing" and I might add, if it is anywhere near an election year, this finger pointing system of checks and balances, might just mean the demise of the official who's "analysis led to the paralysis" allowing Mother Nature's fury to create this "major political cleansing!"

With all that said, we wonder just what the effects this years rains have had on eastern Connecticut.  Late summer and early fall is "corn chopping" time for the local farmers.  Spielman farms in Sprague, a major player during this event.  Did they cut early this year as a result of "Weather Channels" constant reminder of "doom and gloom" or did they adopt the "wait and see" attitude.  Our daily reporters from the area announced some of the fields survived nature's fury while others look as though a nuclear disaster had occurred.

This yearly event of cutting, chopping and hauling of the corn created appetites of ravenous proportions for the little restaurant know as Fred's News.  Thankfully most of it occurred in the early morning hours before the masses filled the place.  As with all "special events" daily chores still needed to be completed.  Milking of the three hundred plus "eating machines" finished, the "chopping crew" heads out.  First stop, Fred's News for a quick breakfast and load of yummy snacks and  delicious over sized sandwiches, carefully wrapped and placed in coolers. Stopping the chopping only to eat or move to the next field, these boys were out until dark, their quick visit in the early morning darkness just a memory, but with the pungent smell of cow poop lingering in the air, a definite wake up call for the senses! Usually as they headed out the front door, the back door was propped open as was the front, fans turned on, quick wash of the floor where they had sat, Yankee Candles lit, Fabreeze sprayed, fresh coffee brewed, warm muffins uncovered, hood fans turned on, the awakening world only recognizing the warm inviting aromas drifting through the crisp early morning moist-laden air, beckoning them to their favorite restaurant.     
   

Years of Memories

Monday holidays are great.  With the exception of Christmas and New Years, if a holiday falls on a  Monday, I am usually off.  Thanksgiving, always on a Thursday, so we take turns.  The past few years, Turkey day has been my major holiday off and I absolutely love it!  This holiday is all about family and it gives us a chance to catch up with the kids and our Florida family, which we do not see, nearly enough!

Sadly we do not see our Fred's News family either, although we do hear from them!  Just the other day, one of the "former family" announced that the little Fred's News building is again for sale, such a pity.  Neighborhood restaurants are a dying breed, most overtaken by "the chains".  The small family owned restaurant, sadly, is something today's young people may never know.  Somehow it doesn't sound the same when someone says, "what a crowd at Dunkin Donuts this morning, boy they make the best bacon, egg and cheese on a bagel."  Couple things here we might make note of:  although the place has fantastic coffee and the sandwich is pretty decent, they are also busy most of the time, is it done with "LOVE"? Can you get the sandwich over easy with a standard five pieces of bacon? Is it made with farm fresh eggs, that were perhaps delivered that very morning? I think not mon ami (remnants of my visit to Paris)!  For the naysayers, I am not complaining nor boasting, just stating the facts.  Why did we leave?  It was time but the fact remains, the small family owned restaurant, that in most places was "the Town meeting place" ( I did not coin that phrase either) IS  for the most part, facing extinction. Why? Tough question but then why not?  Society for the most part has become, "a throw-away society".  We bore easy, much like attention deficit disorder, new and exciting places are not only needed, but required.  Gossip spreads like wildfire via social networking.  If you thought it got bigger everytime it was repeated in Fred's News, just log into Facebook!  So, maybe that type of social gathering place is no longer needed.

We have search for a local place in our new neighborhood.  Even in Polk County, Florida's oldest county, the landscape is dotted with chains.  Our community has a restaurant where one can visit and meet old(since this is an over fifty-five community, I do mean old) friends daily, but you will never have someone stop by on a whim or because the place looked inviting.  Perhaps it is the flowers, or quaint benches and carved bears that beckoned.  Could it have been the array of antique cars that occasionally lined the front walk-way, or the streams of people coming after Sunday morning services, or the groups of young teens congregating on the sidewalks waiting for ALL their friends to arrive, that invited the passerby to stop and sit awhile.  Whatever the reason, that way of life is slowly disappearing. 

A former patron once said to me "we understand, everyone deserves to retire, but we had so hoped our children's first place of employment, would have been Fred's News!" Thinking back, most of the young people we employed, started their working years at the little place.  We still laugh at Eric buttering an uncooked english muffin THEN placing it in the toaster.  That one moment in time began the years of "toaster torture" for those hard working little appliances.  Perhaps the beautiful new curtains that framed the famous Paris Window will forever be remembered by the milkshake cup regurgitating its entire contents of chocolate ice cream, fudge syrup and milk onto their crisp flowing ruffles, as it spun, precariously hooked wrong, on the blender! That made for an interesting story of why and how it happened.  Less we forget the young man that insisted he had properly sprayed the waffle iron before he had loaded it with batter! Then of course, the same person was responsible for not tightening the tops of the syrup containers. Interesting to say the least!  At extremely busy times two automatic dishwashers operated at the same time, one in front and one in the back.  For the most part I saw EVERYTHING that was happening every moment of the day.  Somehow the person squirting dishwashing liquid instead of automatic dishmachine soap into the dishwasher, escaped my notice.  It wasn't until a patron said "I see something coming out underneath the door to the back room, looks like soap!" that panic set in.  For the record, it was probably the cleanest the back room ever was, no one ever admitted the guilt, but everyone had to take bucket loads of suds out to the back dock.  It took at least a half dozen more cycles to completely rid the machine of bubbles. 

My spiel to all "you are allowed one mistake, do not repeat it!"  For the most part, all learned and there was a sadness as each left. Not only did they grow from their Freds News experience, we did as well and we thank each and everyone of them for their laughter and tears, their unique personalities and the wealth of memories they gave us, but mostly we thank them for the wonderful memories and their friendship!   

Thunderstorms.....Just Learn to Love Them!

Tropical moisture, as it is called is inundating the Florida landscape with enormous amounts of rain.  We are a peninsula and one would think coastal areas receive the majority of these rains.  Not always the case as the easterly sea breeze meets the westerlies, they DUMP their loads over central Florida and guess who resides in central Florida? As awesome and expansive as the Florida sky is, the developing afternoon thunderheads, drawing up all this tropical moisture, become so dark and ominous, one would think the creatures of the underworld have been released. Instead sheets of rain pound the ground so hard not even this soil know as the "Florida sponge" can soak it all in.  At this point in time many retention ponds are at capacity yet should we miss one day of rain activity, the "sponge" would once again begin absorbing the excessive amounts of water.

All the small little creatures that populate our preserve are desperately searching for dry new digs to call home.  Certain areas of our yard sit at a higher elevation than their flooded homes so, much like wandering nomads in search of place to rest weary bones, these little bastards enjoy using flower pots, lush Rosemary bushes, storage shelves, recycling bins and our garage as protection from all this tropical moisture crap.  Although we haven't seen one in a couple of days, we aren't sure if the slowly receding waters are the reason or Mr. Bill's back swing with the broom that has halted the mass exodus from the preserve.  Other possibilities are the neighbor's garage and trash bin.  The old man next door is twenty five plus years Mr Bill's senior so, the odds are his back swing is nonexistent, I 'd call his place a safe haven!

Seems this season the rumblings of thunder are more frequent with enormous amounts of lightening.  As I watch people in our community walk their dogs, my mind drifts to our beloved Fred the Dog.  How he hated the sounds of thunder and the continual flashes of lightening, always seeking comfort from the equally irritated thunder storm hater, his faithful master Mr. (wimpy) Bill.  Since these storms appear all too often for Mr. Bill to remain "under the bed", his distress is lessened by wearing his radio earphones if the thunder rolls around too long.  Wonder if they make them for dogs....just one of those thoughts.....try to visualize that, Mr. Bill with Fred the Dog in his lap, both wearing huge radio earphones! 

Many years ago during a rather violent thunderstorm in Connecticut, we were awakened by Fred the Dog long before the storm arrived.  Like most animals, Fred could predict an impending storm.  We had just gotten back to sleep, Mr. Bill hanging his arm over the side of the bed, comforting Fred, letting him know he was not alone, when one of them rogue sort of thunder bolts shook the ground.  Fred was up, Mr. Bill was up and the horrendous sound of a mad dog charging up our stairs, clawing at the screen door, even trying to break the window of the storm door, broke the dead silence following that clap of thunder. This animal, so frightened, was seeking refuge in side our home.  Of course we had no idea whose animal it was or where he came from.  All we knew, he WAS NOT coming into our home!  As the large German Shepard continued clawing his way through these doors, Mr. Bill grabbed one of the boys baseball bats and gave the poor terrified critter a knot on the top of his head.  Seeing what he had done to the front door, no way was he coming into the house, he wasn't even a neighborhood dog.  As he disappeared, howling into the stormy night, we surveyed the damage to the door, Fred the Dog, now petrified at the approaching storm and the screeching howling animal that had tried to invade his home.  

Hours later, heart rythyms back to normal, we awaken from about two hours of sleep to begin our day at Fred's News Restaurant.  Early morning conversations centered around the storm during the night.  One of our patrons mentioned he had seen his neighbor out in the early morning hours looking for his dog.  Seems the animal had broken his chain during the freak storm and had run away.  "Was he a large German Shepard?" we questioned.  "Hell yeah and he hates thunderstorms, seems they have trouble every time one of them babies fire up!"  he mentions.  "Have you seen him?"   "Seen him, damn fool animal tried to eat through the front door, he was so friggan scared! Mr. Bill yells.  "Shouldn't be too hard to find though" he offers, "he's the only German Shepard running around the area that looks like a UNICORN!!!