Happy Halloween Hoaxes

As the darkness settles over the landscape tonight, the eerie sounds of the night consume our beings.  It is Halloween and much like Michael Jackson's Thriller, costumed character awake from the "dead", prowling the countryside in search of the living.  Treats really are the top priority or beware, tricks abound.  Our community, no different than most will host a Halloween dance, costumes optional.  No, we will not attend, work will consume my thoughts and Halloween night.  The Egg-Nazi has been invited, however, grumpy as always, shy by nature, he declined.  He announced..."staying at home, putting around with flowers, waiting for "Mommy" to call."  In the true fashion of Disney, tonight will be even more "Magical" and "Not so scary!"

Although it has been almost three years since we have been in the sleepy town of Baltic, Halloween is hopefully as lively and enjoyable as our memories of the holiday.  So sad that many towns now ban young people older than twelve, from the joys of trick or treat.  Understandable but sad!  Society fears everything even ourselves.  Brought on yy stories smeared across the media, by the media...oh yes that's what sells!  Such a domino affect...let's see what the next hideous crime is committed and how it is outdone by some attention-seeking crazed idiot.

Okay, that said and done, hopefully the fire department in Sprague still allows it's citizens, young and old, the opportunity to partake in the festivities the Halloween holiday affords.  Mr. Bill and I decided to don costumes a number of years ago, him as the San Diego Chicken, actually quite scary, red legs and all, myself choosing a more lovable character, ALF.  We fooled many, even our own parents.  Looking back, I now understand the fear in my mother's eyes as she opened her front door, looking out on two bodies, larger than the usually five or six year old, one enormous chicken with size thirteen feet, attempting to squat down so that he would appear much smaller than his actual size and a fury squat little fatso attempting to hug the petrified woman in the door.  No words spoken, just fear on the face of the small aged woman, trying to call her husband, who by the way was in on the entire prank.  Although they were married fifty plus years, he's lucky she didn't kill him.  Sorry Daddy!

Later years at Fred's News, Mr. Bill and I chose to be closed for the evening, allowing us time to welcome friends children and their grandchildren into our home, passing out treats and taking pictures of all who knocked on our door.  Great fun, great memories and great costumes.  As these young people grow, we will be sure to tell them our memories of their Halloween fun.  Our children, no exception, enjoyed their years of Halloween fun.  We have wonderful pictures of their costumes, many made by Mom,  ranging from lions, bunnies, firemen, shepherds, the ever so popular bum and yes, the camouflage soldier look afford Matthew and Todd.  This costume allowed for hiding out in the bushes, throwing eggs at friends and slipping back into the darkness without being detected.  Thank you trooper Gutkneckt for "raining on their parade", Fred's News would of been out of eggs, had they gone undetected.  Love those kids!   

Young Thinkers

Recently, Mr. Bill and I were watching a Netflix movie, Couples Retreat or something along that line.  Actually a pretty funny movie, with some scenes reminiscent of actual stories brought to us by patrons of Fred's News.  In one scene from the movie, the children of the character played by Vince Vaughn, call their Grandfather to come babysit, allowing Mom and Dad a much deserved vacation.  Much like a young man named Josh.  Having known his parents before his birth, I must say, Josh at an early age was very much a thinker.  His parents allowing him many opportunities to make his own decisions under their careful nurturing spirits and guidance.  We loved having Josh in the restaurant, even at age two, very much a charismatic character in his own right.  Anchovies, olives, sausage gravy, all part of his diet.  The boy's palate very well developed at an early age.  Josh a genuine "foodie", could cook his family of four, a full five or six course meal by the time he was twelve.  For a time Josh washed dishes at Fred's, after the rush, he loved nothing more than being able to sit down with his meal, browsing the numerous food service catalogs at Fred's News.  God love the young man...hopefully some day a famous chef!!

Donnie, a long time friend of Fred's passed away much too soon.  An extremely gentle spirited man, he loved a good joke.  His gait, slow and steady, conversations much the same.  Loved by all who knew him, Donnie an avid Boston Red Sox fan,  loved to instigate.  With his soft warm smile and easy personality, first impressions were that of a quiet introvert.  Quite the opposite, with a wicked sense of humor, Donnie could hold his own against the best, often prodding others into service, just to carry out a joke.    Much like the movie, he enjoyed telling stories of his own family.  Unfortunately, I don't remember if the following was in reference to his son or nephew, whom he raised.  According to Donnie, they were shipping one day at the old Sears Roebuck department store in Norwich, Connecticut.  This store was three floors of everything anyone could ever want.  Kitchen and bathroom products in the basement.  As Donnie talked with the salesman about future renovations to his home or some sort of product he was looking for, the conversation lasted for awhile, the salesman the epitome of customer service, wanting his customer to be sure he was purchasing the very best.  Donnie having a young three year old with him, starting to show signs of impatience.  Years ago, parents didn't seem to worry as much if a child wondered a few aisle away.  Just a curious child, Donnie finished his conversation with the salesman assuring him he would be back,  off he went searching for the child.  Sure enough the young boy returned, totally excited, wanting to show Donnie where he'd been and what he'd done.  Obviously the little boy impatient and bored, tried to tell Donnie a number times...."I have to go potty!"  Ignored by him, the young boy set off on his own search for a "potty."  Not only did he find one, he found many, all neatly lined up and displayed for customer viewing.  One can only imagine what went through  the little boy's mind..."My goodness, so many to choose from, which one can I reach?"  Needless to say, proud of his accomplishment, wanting to show the proud Daddy, he summoned Donnie.  As we all laughed hysterically at the story, Donnie's final words......"I can never go back in that store again!"  Poor salesman...all for naught!

Shaken, not Stirred!

Just two days ago, Bill and I stopped at the Caddyshack to get a quick bite.  This small restaurant/bar is within the confines of our community.  It is therefore frequented by the citizens of this community.  To be more direct...mostly senior citizens.  As we returned to our vehicle, we noticed someone had sideswiped my car on the passenger side.  Total cost to be fixed...$1100.00.  Damn!  No one ever came into the eating establishment informing me of the accident, NICE!  That pisses me off.  I should be thankful, it is minor and no injuries, I am but I'm still upset.

Early one Easter weekend, quite a few years back, PeeWee was in Fred's News at 5:30am on that Easter Sunday.  The usual early morning crowd, slow to arrive because of the holiday.  If my memory is correct, just Hogan, PeeWee, myself and the Egg-Nazi were there.  Suddenly, the stillness and solitude of the early morning dawn, came to a crashing halt and I do mean crashing.  It all seemed to happen in a flash, one second PeeWee's truck was in front of Fred's News, then next second, gone!  Literally, gone about fifty feet up the street.  In it's place,crunched against a now broken utility pole, was another vehicle with a passenger, slightly shaken up, glass, car parts, utility pole parts all over the place.  Since this all happened so quickly, we had barely time to cover the important parts of our bodies, just in case flying glass made it through the huge front windows of the restaurant.  With the crash, the entire building shook as if we had just experienced a tremor.  As the dust settled, we slowly walked towards, the storefront, windows still intact, but utility pole now cracked and leaning against Fred's News.  The glass breaking was the light fixture on pole and the transformer, crashing to to the ground, as well as the front window on the vehicle now in front of Fred's News.  The passenger was okay, bruised and shaken up, he had fallen asleep.  We were all okay, slightly shaken but okay.  Son Mark, home from college for the Easter weekend, rudely awakened by the pole crashing into his bedroom wall, was downstairs at Fred's News within seconds of the accident.  He too, afraid of what he might find.  We have to admit, the crashing glass sounded as if a vehicle was coming through the front windows. Thankfully, it was only the light and transformer from the pole.  However, Easter Sunday, no power, not a good situation.  PeeWee, now recovering from the slam bang action out front, realized that was not his truck parked in front of Fred's.  Slowly he looked up the street, sadly his little pick up totally smashed, in a pile.  Fire department and State Police arrived, giving PeeWee time to fume...not a happy camper.  As other patrons arrived and the early morning quiet had been shattered, neighbors ventured out, asking what had happened.  This only added fuel to PeeWee's fire.  After calling the driver of the vehicle causing all this chaos, "a drunken bum" PeeWee stormed out the door, only to return asking to use the phone.  For the record, the driver was NOT drunk, just sleepy.  Yes, it was his fault, his insurance paid for every one's damages. Northeast Utilities, quickly arriving to remedy the no-power problem.  By the way, that is the fastest Mark has ever responded to us downstairs.

Teamwork, Teamwork, Teamwork!

For those that faithfully read this blog,thank you.  Sorry no post yesterday, I do try to write everyday.  Occasionally, my schedule is a bit loaded, allowing just enough time to breathe.  Yesterday was such a day.  I arrived home at 4:30am, a tad bit later than my usual arrival.  I knew it had been a long night for a few reasons: 1) The security guard at my community said "Good Morning and 'bout time you came home."  sounds like my long deceased Dad.;  2) the daily newspaper was in my driveway already.  That's a late night!  Due to an unforeseen emergency at my job and the need to have the location ready and open for business by 6:00am, my team and I worked through the long night, insuring that the location would be open,  ready for our first Guest in the morning.  This was accomplished by teamwork. 

What made Fred's News function well and without a hitch was also teamwork.  Whether a team of two or twenty, teamwork is a necessity.  Fred's News was lucky enough that our numerous employees throughout the years, were outstanding team mates.  First our children and sisters, then as business grew, employees were added.  We've talked about a few, but there are many that stood out.  Son Matthew and friends, Darren, Eric, Timmy and Heather were the first team of teenagers, making up the crew, along with full timers, Missy, my sister Patty and Sister Harriet, Mr. Bill's younger sibling.  Mixed in with this crew, the floor kids and stockers.  As Matthew out grew Fred's News, friends moving on to college, others were hired.  Younger son Mark and "adopted" son Dave held the night and weekend shifts for a number of years,  Dave's younger brother Jeff joined the ranks, staying with us through a few years of college. As Mark moved on to college, joining Kappa Sigma fraternity,  we never lacked employees.  For those that didn't go on Spring break trips, they worked Fred's News, allowing Mom and Dad a chance to get away.  We always returned, thinking, what would we find, nothing ever seemed amiss.  We joked, we knew how we were at that age, they must of done something.  Years later the stories unfolded.  We still haven"t a clue of the scope of their antics, but all survived, great team work and mountains of "dirt" on each other,  kept them all very closed lipped about any suspicious activity that occurred during our absence.  Fred's News survived.

Every year, at holiday time one of our customers, Max, always gave us a bottle of whiskey.  Although Mr. Bill and I do not drink, we were touched my Max's generosity.  Located in the rear of the restaurant, were newspaper slot boxes, much like a post office.  This is where we put the bottles of whiskey.  Thinking they were still full after all those years, Mr. Bill took them down, only to find most had been opened, some emptied and returned neatly to their place on the shelves.  No wonder we always had volunteers to paint or clean the restaurant after hours.  Nice!  Kappa Sigma fraternity was also the recipient of a few bottles. 

Perhaps, one of the cutest stories that surfaced:  We had a large cactus in our living room.  Bill and I left on a brief vacation, the three boys alone, had strict rules to follow.  Evidently, some sort of pillow fight ensued, using the throw cushions from the living room.  Someone hit the cactus, knocking it to the floor.  After re-potting the cactus, cleaning up the mess, they realized, the cushions had thousands of prickly little spines stuck to them.  In other words, what was once on the cactus, was now stuck in the cushion.  Knowing  they couldn't be pulled out, they stuck the cushion in the washer.  Not wanting to waste water, they filled the washer with dirty clothes, basically a few towels, underwear and one cushion filled with prickly spines from the cactus.  Yes, the spines released themselves from the cushion but found a new home in seams of everyones' underwear.  We returned home, thrilled the house looked wonderful, they had even done the laundry.  Great kids!  However, lurking in the darkness of everyones' underwear drawer,were clean garments concealing the evidence.  A week later, as every complained of a rash, I'm thinking the soap wasn't rinsed out completely, it was like torture.  The guilty came forward and confessed.  We can now laugh, back then  continually scratching one's ass or crotch in public was embarrassing!  Sometimes team work does go awry.

Non-Believers

We always joked that the public had no idea what was involved  just to operate Fred's News efficiently.  Yes, they saw everything that was done within the confines of the small restaurant, but what was done prior to five in the morning and after closing later in the day, was out of sight, out of mind to the general public.  Mr. Bill always joked, in his previous life as a dairy farmer, he was  amazed as visitors would question,"this is what you do?  How do you make a living?"  "I sell milk", was his truthful reply.  Dumbstruck, many would say, "Really, how do you do that!"  Point being, many people haven't a clue of how things get done our how an operation works.  Lot's of hours and hard work is the straight forward, truthful answer. Definitely a lifestyle and a commitment.

At the opposite end of the spectrum, many commented, "I don't know how you do it, you are always here," (meaning in the building).  True, living above the restaurant was unique.  Advantage being, on a snowy icy mid winter morning, navigating the back stairway was better than driving the icy roads.  Yes, the stairway was treacherous, evident by the number of times Mr. Bill, myself, the boys or anyone else slid down the icy incline.  We laughed, can't call in sick, no one there to answer the phone!

Our customer base, as I mentioned before, was far reaching, for such a small place.  Media coverage did help that immensely.  Channel 30 and Channel 8 both did stories on Fred's News.  Because we had never been involved in the taping of a segment for TV, we were amazed at the amount of time needed to produce a three minute clip.  The experience was beyond anything I ever expected.  Although I am not sure what I did expect.  Backtracking, a customer wrote the TV station, explaining Fred's News.  Each week, the reporter visited local eateries.  By the look on his face, my opinion, what can possibly be so good about this place.  Three hours later, him and his crew left, taping complete, stomachs stuffed and understanding the ambiance but not the quirkiness of the place.  We explained, revisiting numerous times, listening to patrons, adding your own stories, you begin understand.  As they were taping, he asked Mr. Bill, who was precooking bacon for the next day, "What are you going to do with all that bacon?"  True to his form, not missing a beat, the Egg-Nazi dryly replied, "I'm going to throw it all away, what the hell do you think I'm going to do....we're going to serve it, fool!"    That answer must of been a moment flashback to his farm days of "How do you make money selling milk!"  After a brief uncomfortable moment of silence, the young quick witted reporter shot back,  "Ah yes, then the rumors are true, pig's all over New England, fear the despised Egg-Nazi!  You are a marked man."  That set the tempo for the afternoon.  He loved the place, the sick jokes where nothing was sacred and the conversations between the patrons, some of which only knew each other because of Fred's News.  The segment aired the next evening, receiving glowing reviews from all who watched.  The very next weekend, many new faces walked through the door explaining the reason they were there.  One woman, looking very disgusted lamented......."We travelled over an hour, because of that show.  This is just a small place."  "Very true, sit down , relax, what are you drinking?"  Still looking very much like a non-believer, they followed my instructions.  Two hours later, they were still sitting there, soaking up the ambiance.  We saw them many times after that initial visit, each time their new "friends" welcomed them.  It's such a small place, but it's got heart, a very large heart, and yes, great food!

The Outcast

With a few big corporations owning the majority of the media, it is no wonder the miles between society have been shortened considerably.  News, stories of interest, jokes and any other form of communications, are spread at such a rapid pace, for many it can be overwhelming.  Society, is in touch.  Mr. Bill laments, the Internet ruined the joke business.  Not really, many people are like him, they rely on someone else to seek out the "good stuff."  Being wired just makes it harder to figure out where the hell you heard it. 

Drew, a young man, slightly different than most (actually a hot shit and frigging weird), loved jokes, all kinds, subject matter, obviously didn't matter.  In his weirdo world of comedy,whether ethnic, dark, grotesque and so forth, Drew was the epitome of diversity.   Anyone would have a hard time proving Drew was targeting a specific group, everyone and everything was fair game.   Drew really didn't fit into society nor did he want to.  Was it alcohol or drugs, probably, but in a strange sort of twisted way, he was likable and to a certain extent, hilarious.  The man loved a good joke, didn't care who was within earshot, it just flowed from his wild strange looking frame, like some sort of poetic prose.  Arriving at Fred's News, he usually park his old beat up truck in the back driveway.  If Mr. Bill noticed him pulling in, he tried to head him off by meeting him on the loading dock.  "any good jokes for me today, Drew?"  Mr. Bill would question.  A tactic that worked like a charm, only because Drew was basically anti-social, really only stopped by to tell the Egg-Nazi a few jokes, rip society apart and bitch about everything, usually ending with, "this is why I live in the f#*king woods."  A personality, that had he been more social, would of rivaled Bill Maher.  Unfortunately, he was a tangent personality, you just had to be cautious of what type of tangent he might go off on!  Regardless, many of his words were the truth, just no one took him seriously.  With his wild mane flowing in the breeze and an unkempt beard, he looked very much like the " outcast of society."  That's the way Drew wanted it.  He dreaded having to visit his parents home, not being able to be himself.  He said he would abide by their wishes, watching what he said.  I find that very hard to believe.  But Drew was accepted at Fred's News, even talking with a few patrons.  He learned, having a bad day, get the hell out!  Oddly enough, but totally understanding, he was friends with "Johann the Nephew...Great!"  Go tell, who would of thought, two peas in pod.  One late summer afternoon, Mr. Bill was out watering the flowers, he watched as Drew, ever so slowly maneuvered his old jalopy into the back yard.  He figured he'd better check out the mood, before he entered the restaurant.  Making his way, dragging the hose off the sidewalk, he reached the back yard.  Sitting in his truck, waiting for him, was Drew.  Windows up, some other wild looking guy, Mr. Bill could hear laughter coming from the truck.  As he approached the side window, Drew rolled down the window, allowing smoke to drift out the side, yes, the scent of good grade pot!  Stoned, Drew and friend finally told Bill, they'd just stopped by to tell him the latest joke they'd heard.  Unfortunately, he couldn't remember it and he really didn't "a rat's ass anyways."  Said he'd be back, "when his mind wasn't so f#*ked up."  He laughed, coughed, finishing with, "if that's the case, your probably never going to see me again!"  With that he maneuvered around the driveway, finally leaving at a snail's pace some twenty minutes later.  We saw the truck later that evening in "Johann, the Nephew...Great's", driveway.  At the rate he was going, less than quarter mile to the place, probably took him at least an hour.

A Thankful Season

With Halloween just around the corner, there are signs of the fast approaching holiday season.  Instead of ghosts and goblins decorating the shelves, it is the Fall cornucopias filled to the brim with gourds and pine cones and yes, little stuffed pilgrims sitting on shelves of the stores, all waiting to grace some one's holiday table.  Along with this season comes an abundance of "comfort foods" along with family celebrations.  Fred's News was no different.  We cooked for our patrons in the morning, feasting on the Thanksgiving dinner with our family in the evening.  We have much to be thankful for.

For a number of years Fr. Mike, the chaplain at the Sisters of Charity, Holy Family Mother house, would bring loads of turkeys and other holiday foods to Fred's News.  The stipulation...we have to find families in need.  Only God knows how many families were in need.  Good to his word, we'd make a list and off he'd go delivering the goods, so these families would have the best celebration.  Some would return to us and say thank you. At first, I couldn't understand why thanking us, but soon the story unfolded.  "Your neighbors at Fred's News thought you might be able to use this food."  We explained the food came from the good Sisters, we are just their "snitch".  Fr, Mike and the Sisters appreciated the help, we saw the sadness of the needy, many in the immediate neighborhood.

Somehow the Thanksgiving season wasn't all about food.  Over our years at the little restaurant, there were many young children that visited the place.  Some here for just a few weeks, some still there, now grown and just as needy.  One particular little boy named Mikey, had such a charismatic personality.  His plight of torn clothes and old shoes didn't seem to affect his outlook on life.  A vivid imagination, we welcomed him to Fred's News every afternoon after school.  Mikey and his mom were receipients of the holiday food basket from the convent.  Tears of joy filled his Mom's eyes as we gave her a turkey, "Nobody has ever been this kind to me and Mikey, please tell the nuns, Thank you."  We relayed the message and enjoyed Mikey's stories of how mom had cooked the dinner, with his help of course.  Soon after, the weather turned much colder.  Mikey came into Fred's one afternoon, not his usual jovial self.  His jacket torn wide open running from some older children picking on him.  He never told us who or why but, I found a jacket, now much to small for our boys packed away.  Mikey wore it proudly.  Much too soon, Mikey and his mom moved on.  We never knew where or why but we were thankful we had a chance to meet him.  He taught all a lesson of Thanksgiving.