While I was in San Jose a couple of weeks ago, I was introduced to some new foods. There's a heavy Asian population in the San Jose/San Francisco area, so it stands to reason that there's no shortage of Chinese, Korean and Vietnamese cuisine. If you went into shopping center where there were ten restaurants. seven or eight of them would specialize in some sort of Asian fare.
One of the more interesting places was called Pho Tau Bay. As my friends led me into the restaurant, I half expected to see a tropical themed place similar to Cheeseburger In Paradise. However, this place was quite the contrary. Methodically lined in neat rows, uneventful tables filled the dining area. As we sat down, my friends, who were much more versed in this type of cuisine, informed my that we were about to dine on pho (pronounced "fah"). As long as it wasn't fish eyeballs or bull testicles, I was game for almost anything. (Of course, the four Anchor Steam lager's that I had prior to dinner had lowered any inhibitions that I might have had.)
We look over the menu and we all settle on the house specialty. It consists of a bowl of thin noodles in a beef broth with a variety of "fixins" on the side. The dish also comes with thinly sliced pieces of filet mignon. We have the choice of a regular size bowl or a large one. Although we're not in Texas, we take "bigger is better" approach and order the large version. After all, it was only $10. How big could it be?
They must have had this stuff already prepared because within a few minutes, the waiter was already walking towards us with two large bowls. Actually large is an understatement. You could have bathed in these things. When the guy put the bowls down on the table, my firs thought was that these were community bowls and that we would somehow split the contents between the six us us. But before I wrapped my head around it, the waiter retreats and then returns with a couple more bowls. And after that, he brought numbers five and six. And after that, he started to bring out the various garnishments. And then lastly, out came the individual portions of raw steak.
Now, I've eaten sushi before but I had never eaten raw beef. And frankly, even with the liquid courage flowing through my blood-steam, I wasn't thrilled about it. I never had to worry about this kind of thing at the Outback. As I stared at the red meat on the plate in fornt of me, I mentally prepared for the inevitable.
Thankfully, one of my friends informed my that you put the meat in the hot broth to cook it. I am so glad these guys were there. Otherwise, I would have been gnawing on the raw meat like a vulture on a piece of roadkill.
So, I pick up a piece of the blood soaked steak and drop it into the soup. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the cooking process was actually happening. So, I proceeded to dump the rest of the meat into the bowl.
When I was confident that the meat wasn't going to "moo" at me, I prepared to dine. But there's was one problem...I had no silverware. I announced that I was going to grab the waiter to secure a fork and spoon. But one of my buds quickly informed that this was an authentic Vietnamese diner and that the "silverware" was right in front of me. All I saw was a pair of chopsticks. I impulsively responded, "You're kidding, right?"
I can understand trying to a solid piece of food with chopsticks. But how in the hell do you eat soup with them? It's liquid!
Nonetheless, when in Rome.......
So, I fumbled with the chopsticks and fished out whatever piece of noodle or steak I could grab. After a little practice, I was pulling stuff out of the cavernous bowl like a pro. I looked like one of the Deadliest Catch guys pulling a King Crab out of the Bering Sea. The flavor of the combination of beef, broth and the thin noodles was incredible.
The problem was that we were no match for the gigantic portions. So, most of us left at least half a bowl behind. I didn't want to insult the staff so I told the waiter how great it was. He just looked at me with a blank face. In his defense, I don't think he (or any of the staff) spoke a word of English. But that's part of the authentic experience, right?
All in all, an interesting experience that will likely result in a return visit.....
kw
Wednesday, November 23, 2016
Strangers On A Plane
Air travel has it's conveniences. Instead of spending 18 hours in a car of screaming kids, you can load up the family in a 737 and get started on that Disney vacation in a couple of hours. However, flying the friendly skies can also have it's inconveniences.. On a recent flight to San Diego, I had a front row seat to one of them.....
On Southwest airlines, there's always a jostling of the seats. Because of their open seating policy, the first two-thirds of the passengers will hustle to secure those coveted window and aisle seats. They eventually give way to the final (aka the "C Group") who inevitably board the plane with a look of utter despair in their eyes. On a recent flight, I sat in my aisle seat (secured by a bargain price of $15 via an Early Bird check-in) and watched the crowd look to and fro in hopes of spotting a window seat that has somehow flown under the radar. Unfortunately, these hopes almost always lead to disappointment.
As the crowd moves in, a woman in the back of the plane decides that she wants to take a seat near the front of the plane. I guess it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind? Nonetheless, her attempt to move to her new seat is headed off by the disgruntled C-group. Keep in mind, the aisle on his plane is very narrow. Unless you're a super-model with an eating disorder, you're probably not going to make it down the aisle too easily. So, squeezing past another full size adult is virtually impossible. But the woman is determined. She desperately tries to squeeze by an oncoming man but it's quite obvious that it ain't happening. The man, already pissed because of the middle seat that awaits him, asks the woman, "Where the hell are you trying to go??"
The woman points to a seat about ten rows behind him towards the front of the plane. The guy rolls his eyes and then turns sideways and presses his pelvis into the head of sleeping passenger in the aisle seat in front of me. The woman turns sideways in the opposite direction and attempts to squeeze past the guy. With her ass firmly wedged up against the man's ass, the woman wiggles in a futile attempt to make it past him. Keep in mind, the woman had one of those large Kim-Kardishain type asses.
Meanwhile, after practically being sexually assaulted by repeated pelvic thrusts, the sleeping passenger inevitably wakes up. That last thrust to the head must have been too much to absorb. Looking as if he just took an overhand right from Mike Tyson, the guy sits in his seat and shakes out the cobwebs. I heard him mumble a subtle "WTF" as he rubbed his eyes and tried to figure out what just happened.
The whole scene was like watching an old episode of Seinfeld. And although I was genuinely enjoying the pre-departure comedy show, I was starting to worry that it would delay our flight. The man finally puts an end to the nonsense and says to the woman, "Look, this isn't going to work. You need to let me get by so I can get to my seat for Christ's sake!"
Instead of simply turning around and walking to the back of the plane, the woman tries to squeeze into the aisle seat directly across from me. The problem here was that there was a person sitting in the seat. But again, the woman was determined and would not be deterred. The seated passenger leaned into the the person on the middle seat in order to give Miss Inconsiderate a little space. She stayed in this position until the rest of the C-group boarded. The poor passenger would probably need a chiropractor after staying that cramped position for so long. I'm not a violent person but I would have probably throat-punched the woman if she infringed on my space like that.
Eventually, all of the C-group boarded the plane and the woman was finally able to move freely through the aisle. After all of the hassle and inconvenience, she finally settles into a middle seat next to a guy who I assumed to be her husband. All of this effort for a middle seat....are you kidding me?
After what seemed like a brief eternity, the plane finally entered the sky. And can you guess who the first person who needed to get up an use the bathroom? Yep, we were barely in the air for 15 minutes and the woman was walking into the on-coming direction of an approaching flight attendant. The flight attendant gave a subtle roll of her eyes and a forced smile as the woman squeezed past her....
kw
On Southwest airlines, there's always a jostling of the seats. Because of their open seating policy, the first two-thirds of the passengers will hustle to secure those coveted window and aisle seats. They eventually give way to the final (aka the "C Group") who inevitably board the plane with a look of utter despair in their eyes. On a recent flight, I sat in my aisle seat (secured by a bargain price of $15 via an Early Bird check-in) and watched the crowd look to and fro in hopes of spotting a window seat that has somehow flown under the radar. Unfortunately, these hopes almost always lead to disappointment.
As the crowd moves in, a woman in the back of the plane decides that she wants to take a seat near the front of the plane. I guess it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind? Nonetheless, her attempt to move to her new seat is headed off by the disgruntled C-group. Keep in mind, the aisle on his plane is very narrow. Unless you're a super-model with an eating disorder, you're probably not going to make it down the aisle too easily. So, squeezing past another full size adult is virtually impossible. But the woman is determined. She desperately tries to squeeze by an oncoming man but it's quite obvious that it ain't happening. The man, already pissed because of the middle seat that awaits him, asks the woman, "Where the hell are you trying to go??"
The woman points to a seat about ten rows behind him towards the front of the plane. The guy rolls his eyes and then turns sideways and presses his pelvis into the head of sleeping passenger in the aisle seat in front of me. The woman turns sideways in the opposite direction and attempts to squeeze past the guy. With her ass firmly wedged up against the man's ass, the woman wiggles in a futile attempt to make it past him. Keep in mind, the woman had one of those large Kim-Kardishain type asses.
Meanwhile, after practically being sexually assaulted by repeated pelvic thrusts, the sleeping passenger inevitably wakes up. That last thrust to the head must have been too much to absorb. Looking as if he just took an overhand right from Mike Tyson, the guy sits in his seat and shakes out the cobwebs. I heard him mumble a subtle "WTF" as he rubbed his eyes and tried to figure out what just happened.
The whole scene was like watching an old episode of Seinfeld. And although I was genuinely enjoying the pre-departure comedy show, I was starting to worry that it would delay our flight. The man finally puts an end to the nonsense and says to the woman, "Look, this isn't going to work. You need to let me get by so I can get to my seat for Christ's sake!"
Instead of simply turning around and walking to the back of the plane, the woman tries to squeeze into the aisle seat directly across from me. The problem here was that there was a person sitting in the seat. But again, the woman was determined and would not be deterred. The seated passenger leaned into the the person on the middle seat in order to give Miss Inconsiderate a little space. She stayed in this position until the rest of the C-group boarded. The poor passenger would probably need a chiropractor after staying that cramped position for so long. I'm not a violent person but I would have probably throat-punched the woman if she infringed on my space like that.
Eventually, all of the C-group boarded the plane and the woman was finally able to move freely through the aisle. After all of the hassle and inconvenience, she finally settles into a middle seat next to a guy who I assumed to be her husband. All of this effort for a middle seat....are you kidding me?
After what seemed like a brief eternity, the plane finally entered the sky. And can you guess who the first person who needed to get up an use the bathroom? Yep, we were barely in the air for 15 minutes and the woman was walking into the on-coming direction of an approaching flight attendant. The flight attendant gave a subtle roll of her eyes and a forced smile as the woman squeezed past her....
kw
Sunday, October 9, 2016
Lost At The Great Mall
A couple of weeks ago, I had to travel to San Jose to attend an orientation class for my new company. The long travel day was made even longer by a 6+ hour layover in Los Angeles. I did my best to pass the time by watching the Sunday football games on the limited number of TVs. This particular area was extremely crowded so getting a seat at one of the two bars was nearly impossible.
Eventually, I boarded my flight and headed north to San Jose. Landing a short time later, I gathered up my bags and ventured outside to catch an Uber to the hotel. About ten minutes later, I received notification that my driver had arrived. According to the Uber app, he was driver a Toyota Prius. I surveyed the area only to discover that there were no less than ten Prius's within throwing distance. Before I even got a chance to interrogate the first one, my app informed me that my driver had left! So, I immediately called for another. Fortunately, the second guy had the courtesy to call me and tell me that I was in standing in a "no pick-up" zone. So, he instructed me where to go and picked me up a couple of minutes later.
Once I got to the hotel, I began to unpack. It appeared that I had forgot to bring my razor. While most guys have no problem going a day or two without shaving, I do. So, I decided to venture over to the shopping mall across the street from the hotel in search of a razor. As I pass a Chinese restaurant, I enter The Great Mall (yes, that's actually the name of the place).
I walk around the perimeter of the mall no less than three times before I realize that there's no drugstore. So, I walk into one of those "everything's a dollar" stores, hoping that I can find a cheap package of Bic's. But no luck. So, I accept the reality that I'm going to have to show up for tomorrow's class with a face full of stubble.
So I look for the exit. The problem is that there are lots of exits and I can't remember where I entered. I walked around and tried almost every escape route. The only landmark that I have to orient me is the Chinese restaurant that I saw on the way in. But I can't seem to locate it. After walking completely around the mall again, I decide to look at one of the directories. I search under the restaurant header but the only Asian restaurants seem to be in the food court. And I know for a fact that I didn't come in anywhere near the food court.
So, I decide to walk outside in hopes of getting a better bearing on my location. My hotel is only a couple of blocks away so I figure it shouldn't be too hard to find. The problem was that it was now dark and all of the surrounding buildings looked the same. Panic began to set it. I really wished I would have dropped a trail of breadcrumbs on the way in.
I thought about calling an Uber but I figured the guy would laugh at me for the entire 2-block ride. So, I swallowed my pride and decided to do what no man ever wants to do: ask for directions. The first couple I approached didn't speak English so I moved on. The second person I approached didn't speak English either. I repeated this scenario with several more people with the same results: No hablos Ingles.
Childhood anxieties came rushing back as I recalled the first time I got separated from my parents in a public place.
I gave up and proceeded to walk around the entire perimeter of the mall. I eventually stumbled on the elusive Chinese restaurant on the edge of the mall. It was called the Mayflower. No wonder I couldn't find it on the directory. When I think of Mayflower I think of either Pilgrims or Colt thieves. I certainly don't think of a Chinese restaurant.
Drenched in perspiration, I finally make my way back to the hotel. My legs were actually starting to cramp up. I really should have grabbed a drink while I was doing laps around the mall. But thankfully, I made it back to the hotel without collapsing. As I walked past the desk person, he asked if I had a good evening. I explained that I had just finished exploring the mall. He then informed me that it is a great place for mall walkers because a complete walk around the mall is exactly one mile. Figuring that I walked around the mall no less than eight times (at a very brisk pace), I felt like I got my exercise in for the month.
Perhaps the most amazing thing about the whole evening......When I got back to my room, there was a razor on the bathroom sink. I swear that I don't remember seeing it there. That was the whole reason I walked over to the mall! It really freaked me out. Was someone playing a game with me? At this point, I really didn't care. It had been a very long day and I just wanted to get some sleep......
kw
Eventually, I boarded my flight and headed north to San Jose. Landing a short time later, I gathered up my bags and ventured outside to catch an Uber to the hotel. About ten minutes later, I received notification that my driver had arrived. According to the Uber app, he was driver a Toyota Prius. I surveyed the area only to discover that there were no less than ten Prius's within throwing distance. Before I even got a chance to interrogate the first one, my app informed me that my driver had left! So, I immediately called for another. Fortunately, the second guy had the courtesy to call me and tell me that I was in standing in a "no pick-up" zone. So, he instructed me where to go and picked me up a couple of minutes later.
Once I got to the hotel, I began to unpack. It appeared that I had forgot to bring my razor. While most guys have no problem going a day or two without shaving, I do. So, I decided to venture over to the shopping mall across the street from the hotel in search of a razor. As I pass a Chinese restaurant, I enter The Great Mall (yes, that's actually the name of the place).
I walk around the perimeter of the mall no less than three times before I realize that there's no drugstore. So, I walk into one of those "everything's a dollar" stores, hoping that I can find a cheap package of Bic's. But no luck. So, I accept the reality that I'm going to have to show up for tomorrow's class with a face full of stubble.
So I look for the exit. The problem is that there are lots of exits and I can't remember where I entered. I walked around and tried almost every escape route. The only landmark that I have to orient me is the Chinese restaurant that I saw on the way in. But I can't seem to locate it. After walking completely around the mall again, I decide to look at one of the directories. I search under the restaurant header but the only Asian restaurants seem to be in the food court. And I know for a fact that I didn't come in anywhere near the food court.
So, I decide to walk outside in hopes of getting a better bearing on my location. My hotel is only a couple of blocks away so I figure it shouldn't be too hard to find. The problem was that it was now dark and all of the surrounding buildings looked the same. Panic began to set it. I really wished I would have dropped a trail of breadcrumbs on the way in.
I thought about calling an Uber but I figured the guy would laugh at me for the entire 2-block ride. So, I swallowed my pride and decided to do what no man ever wants to do: ask for directions. The first couple I approached didn't speak English so I moved on. The second person I approached didn't speak English either. I repeated this scenario with several more people with the same results: No hablos Ingles.
Childhood anxieties came rushing back as I recalled the first time I got separated from my parents in a public place.
I gave up and proceeded to walk around the entire perimeter of the mall. I eventually stumbled on the elusive Chinese restaurant on the edge of the mall. It was called the Mayflower. No wonder I couldn't find it on the directory. When I think of Mayflower I think of either Pilgrims or Colt thieves. I certainly don't think of a Chinese restaurant.
Drenched in perspiration, I finally make my way back to the hotel. My legs were actually starting to cramp up. I really should have grabbed a drink while I was doing laps around the mall. But thankfully, I made it back to the hotel without collapsing. As I walked past the desk person, he asked if I had a good evening. I explained that I had just finished exploring the mall. He then informed me that it is a great place for mall walkers because a complete walk around the mall is exactly one mile. Figuring that I walked around the mall no less than eight times (at a very brisk pace), I felt like I got my exercise in for the month.
Perhaps the most amazing thing about the whole evening......When I got back to my room, there was a razor on the bathroom sink. I swear that I don't remember seeing it there. That was the whole reason I walked over to the mall! It really freaked me out. Was someone playing a game with me? At this point, I really didn't care. It had been a very long day and I just wanted to get some sleep......
kw
Monday, September 5, 2016
The Kaepernick Sideshow
I didn't really want to spend a whole lot of time talking about the Colin Kaepernick situation. But several people have asked me how I feel about it, so I feel compelled to give a brief commentary.
In a nut shell, unless a person has physical or mental impairments that prevent him from doing so, it pisses me off to see anyone sitting down during our National Anthem. I find it disrespectful to say the least. And although it's often considered a passive protest, I personally find it quite incendiary. Just look at the uproar Kaepernick has created with his pre-season sideshow.
With this being said, as crazy as it might sound, I fully support Kaepernick's right to do what he's doing. Ironically, he's exercising the very freedom that the flag and our Anthem represent. I get that. It's that freedom that we have to focus on. Exercising my own freedom of expression, I'm gonna call Kaepernick an ungrateful asshole.
I understand that Kaepernick is attempting to perpetuate the false narrative that the police are the biggest threat to young black men in America today. But what is sitting out the National Anthem going to accomplish? Maybe Kaepernick's time could be better spent boycotting the next shooting in Chicago or Baltimore. Or better yet, maybe he could contribute to a Big Brother or other mentoring program that might actually give a kid a chance at succeeding.
The 49ers washed-up quarterback has also said that his "sit-out" is to address the oppression of black people in America. It's hard for me to buy that argument when it's coming from a man who's making $19 million a year (And as a bonus, he has a season ticket to watch every the 49ers every week from the sideline). Some people will inevitably ask, "What's money got to do with it?" Well, it's this simple.....if you're raking in $19 million a year, you're not very oppressed.
As we move closer to the opening of the NFL season, like most of the other teams, the 49ers will open their season this Sunday. Increasing the drama even more is that Sunday happens to fall on September 11. So, while there will likely be tributes/references to that infamous day in the pre-game ceremonies, it's only going to escalate Kaepernick's antics to another level. If you think he's unpopular now, just wait until Sunday.....
kw
In a nut shell, unless a person has physical or mental impairments that prevent him from doing so, it pisses me off to see anyone sitting down during our National Anthem. I find it disrespectful to say the least. And although it's often considered a passive protest, I personally find it quite incendiary. Just look at the uproar Kaepernick has created with his pre-season sideshow.
With this being said, as crazy as it might sound, I fully support Kaepernick's right to do what he's doing. Ironically, he's exercising the very freedom that the flag and our Anthem represent. I get that. It's that freedom that we have to focus on. Exercising my own freedom of expression, I'm gonna call Kaepernick an ungrateful asshole.
I understand that Kaepernick is attempting to perpetuate the false narrative that the police are the biggest threat to young black men in America today. But what is sitting out the National Anthem going to accomplish? Maybe Kaepernick's time could be better spent boycotting the next shooting in Chicago or Baltimore. Or better yet, maybe he could contribute to a Big Brother or other mentoring program that might actually give a kid a chance at succeeding.
The 49ers washed-up quarterback has also said that his "sit-out" is to address the oppression of black people in America. It's hard for me to buy that argument when it's coming from a man who's making $19 million a year (And as a bonus, he has a season ticket to watch every the 49ers every week from the sideline). Some people will inevitably ask, "What's money got to do with it?" Well, it's this simple.....if you're raking in $19 million a year, you're not very oppressed.
As we move closer to the opening of the NFL season, like most of the other teams, the 49ers will open their season this Sunday. Increasing the drama even more is that Sunday happens to fall on September 11. So, while there will likely be tributes/references to that infamous day in the pre-game ceremonies, it's only going to escalate Kaepernick's antics to another level. If you think he's unpopular now, just wait until Sunday.....
kw
Saturday, August 27, 2016
Summer School
We're barely a week into the new school year and we already have weather-related closures. Of course, Maryland doesn't get a whole lot of snow in August. But it can get a bit hot and humid. So, a few weeks ago, Baltimore County School administrators announced a new policy to address the heated classroom issue. When the heat index reaches 90 (which is almost everyday this time of year), schools without air conditioning will be closed.
They are now estimating that the kids could miss close to three weeks of school due to heat (and snow) closures. When will they make the days up? In July? If I remember correctly, July can get pretty hot too.
I'm kind of amazed that things have been allowed to get to this point. After all, it's 2016. I thought my garage was the only place in Maryland that was air conditioned. It seems that any government building, especially one filled with pampered kids, would have a climate controlled environment at this point. But apparently not...
And the risk of showing my age, I can't resisting segueing into a "back when I was a kid" story....
Yes, back when I was in school, there were hardly any schools with AC. There were only a lucky few who would temporarily escape the summer heat by sitting in a classroom in one of the annexed parts of the school building. For the rest of us, we would jostle for a coveted spot near one of the open windows. If you had a compassionate teacher, he/she might bring one of those large standing fans into the classroom. But the most interesting thing is that I don't remember anyone ever considering closing the schools due to heat. We just sat there and compliantly sweated our asses off.
I can remember entering the class room and being greeted by desktop sweat left behind by the poor bastard from the previous class. I would run down to the bathroom and grab a wet paper towel in order to prepare a more desirable work area. Looking back on it now, the classrooms should have all had those spray bottles that are used in gyms to wipe don the sweaty workout equipment.
Back back in the day, I guess the kids were more acclimated to the hot weather. Many of us grew up in homes without AC. And almost all of us played in the Baltimore heat the entire summer. Additionally, most of the automobiles were sans AC. To keep "cool", you rolled down the window. The closest thing to climate control was the interior vents which essentially blew hot air on you as you progressed down the road. If you were really lucky, you might find yourself in a vehicle with one of those little wing windows which could be adjusted to re-direct even more hot air onto your perspiring body.
Of course, today's kids are much more fortunate. They're kept at optimum temperature all year as they sit comfortably in front the TV playing their video games. So, I guess I can understand how a 90 degree heat index could be like a sucker punch to these unsuspecting lads......
kw
Monday, August 22, 2016
Memories of My Father
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, my Dad left the tobacco fields of North Carolina to pursue a new life in the city. Unsure of what awaited him in the future, he eventually landed in Baltimore. The young country boy was like a fish out of water but he quickly adapted to his new surroundings.
Before long , he met a young lady from Locust Point who would ultimately turn out to be his life-long soul mate.
In search of a career path, my Dad found a liking for carpentry. He landed a job with a local builder and soon discovered that he had a natural gift for the trade. He quickly progressed and before long, he could transform a pile of lumber into a work of art.
Dad started taking me along on side jobs when I was about 11-12 years old. Although I didn't inherit his natural skills, he tried his best to teach me. When I turned 16, he got me a summer job at his company. As we rode to work together, he would talk to me about the day's project like a coach preparing a player for a big game.
My father was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to his work. I can remember this one time, I was installing the base molding in a room. As I finished trimming out one of the closets, Dad came into the room to critique my work. He quickly pointed out that I had left a small gap between two pieces of molding. I tried to explain that it was inside of a closet and no one would even notice it. When that didn't work, I attempted to enlighten him to the benefits of caulk. He abruptly informed me that he wasn't going to tolerate this kind of work. He explained that there's a right way to do things and there's wrong way. He then made me rip out the molding and re-do it the right way. He drilled this mentality into me every chance that he got. At the time, I thought he was being hard and unreasonable. But years later, I realized that he was attempting to teach me a lesson in pride and accountability.
Dad also believed that a man's word was his bond. If you looked someone in the eye and told them you were going to do something, you did it. This is something he instilled in me from an early age. He also taught me that it's ok to make mistakes. Just be sure to own up and take responsibility for them.
When it came to music, my father liked the old-school country guys like Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard and the Statler Brothers. I remember introducing him to the song "Country Roads" by John Denver. He really liked the song but he had a problem with John Denver's "long hair". He explained that the song would sound so much better if the singer would get a hair cut.....If you think that's funny, you should have seen the look on his face the first time he saw one of my Ted Nugent albums.
My father really enjoyed going to flea markets and yard sales. As a kid, I would often tag along with him. I was always impressed with his ability to wheel and deal with the different vendors. I would stand quietly and watch him work his magic. He tried to teach me that everything is negotiable. Well, one day, I venture into a 7-11 to buy a Slurpee and a candy bar. The cashier rings up my items and tells me that it's gonna be $1.49. Instinctively, I rub my chin and respond, "I'll tell you what. Make it an even dollar and we've got a deal!".........Yep, I'm a chip off the ol' block.
Through recent years, my Dad spent a lot of time repairing lawn mowers. On any given day, you could find him in his back yard breathing new life into old gas-powered engines. At the first hint of spring, people would come out of the woodwork to visit Brooklyn's famous Lawnmower man. I can remember this one time I stopped by to visit my parents. My Dad wasn't home at the time. Well, there was a knock at the front door and I went to answer it. I was greeted by two men who said that they were here to see the "lawnmower man". It reminded me of that scene where Dorothy and the gang arrive in Oz and ask to see the Wizard.
Anyway, I explained that he wasn't home. They asked if I was his son. I told them that I was. The next thing I know, these guys are shaking my hand and telling me all about the famous Lawnmower Man. It turns out that my Dad was Brooklyn's biggest celebrity since the $99 Dollar Down Man.
Last week, I stopped by my parent's house to cut the grass. The garage was loaded with about a dozen "project" lawnmowers. Making my way through the garage, I tried to start each one with no luck. I asked Marshall, a family friend who lives across the street, if he knew where my father kept his good lawnmower. He told me that my dad sold it to someone a couple of weeks ago......Really, Dad? You couldn't leave me with one working lawnmower??
So anyway, I wind up going to Sears and buying a new one. Here I was, the son of the legendary Lawnmower Man, paying the retail price for a new lawnmower. I felt like such a loser....
Like I eluded to earlier, my dad would always try to get the best possible price on anything. One of his weapons of choice in the war of frugality was the coupon. He would spend Sunday morning clipping all of the coupons out of the Sunday newspaper. It wasn't uncommon for him to stop by five different grocery stores in one day just so he could use every one of them. With a gleam in his eye, he would sometimes show me the receipts just to gloat about how much money he saved. His ultimate goal was to, one day, have a grocery store actually pay him for shopping there.
And the ironic part of of all this is that my Dad would give away half of the things that he bought. He would always start by asking something like, "Hey Ken, do you like ice cream?" I would reply, "Of course. Who doesn't like ice cream?" He would then instruct me to go to his large freezer and pick out a carton. I'm not kidding you, I would open up the freezer and it would look like the inside of a Good Humor truck. I would ask why he bought so much. And whether it was ice cream, peanuts or laundry detergent, the answer was always the same.....because it was on sale and he had a coupon.
My dad was also quite the debater. If you've ever had an argument with him, you know that you couldn't possibly win. Years ago, I remember having a disagreement about our opinions on the best Major League baseball player. We went back and forth, arguing our views. As my Dad's blood reached a boiling point, I tried to settle him down by explaining that this is just my opinion. He told me that I was entitled to my opinion. But I was still wrong.
Since we're in Baltimore, we probably have a few Ravens fans here. Well, my Dad certainly wasn't one of them. If you ever wanted to get him fired up, all you had to do was mention how awesome the Ravens were. And you never, under any circumstances, wanted to utter the words "Ray Lewis" in front of him. This would usually result in him storming into the kitchen where he'd grab his canister full of news clippings. He had collected every negative news story that's ever been printed about the Raven's linebacker. He'd hand you each clipping and say, "Here, go ahead and read this and tell me what you think."
One time, I said, "Dad, this is an opinion piece." He replied, "It doesn't matter, it's the truth! They wouldn't print it if it wasn't true!" Like I said, you're not winning any arguments with him.
Through the years, Dad spent a lot of time with his best friend, John Cook. They could often be seen running local errands together or zipping through John's back yard in a golf cart. My father would often tell me about their adventures. He really enjoyed their time together. I spoke to John last week and I could tell that he was hurting. John, you should know that you made my very father happy and he loved you like a brother.
My Dad would often make his rounds visiting the kids and grand-kids. Always unannounced, you never knew when his white pick-up truck would show up in your driveway. He would stay for a short conversation over a Pepsi and then he would get up and head to his next destination.
I have to tell about one time where one of his impromptu visits caught me totally off guard. I was hosting a Sunday football party at my house. Someone alerted me that my Dad was there. So, I walked down the driveway to greet him. As I got closer, his smile faded and his eyes fixated on my torso. Trying to figure out what was going on, I glanced down and quickly realized that I was wearing a Ray Lewis jersey. I honestly felt like crawling under a rock. I really caught an earful from him as we walked to my house. He eventually forgave me but I knew that I would be in for a barrage of newspaper clippings the next time I stopped by his house.
All of these things will now become a precious memories. We had so many good times and shared so many laughs together. The countless stories of my Dad will keep him alive in our hearts forever.
My father was so proud of all his children and grand-children. He really cherished the time that he got to spend with all of us. And we certainly felt the same way about him. Celebrating 54 years of marriage to my mom this year, my dad stuck by her side until the very end.
Success in life is measured by how may other lives you touch along the way. Ervin Wilson was indeed a successful man.
The tremendous outpouring of love and support during the past week has been overwhelming. People have told me heartfelt stories and shared the memories that they have of my father. It's comforting to know that he had an impact on so many people. Thanks so much to everyone for helping our family through this difficult time. It is appreciated more than you will ever know....
kw
Before long , he met a young lady from Locust Point who would ultimately turn out to be his life-long soul mate.
In search of a career path, my Dad found a liking for carpentry. He landed a job with a local builder and soon discovered that he had a natural gift for the trade. He quickly progressed and before long, he could transform a pile of lumber into a work of art.
Dad started taking me along on side jobs when I was about 11-12 years old. Although I didn't inherit his natural skills, he tried his best to teach me. When I turned 16, he got me a summer job at his company. As we rode to work together, he would talk to me about the day's project like a coach preparing a player for a big game.
My father was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to his work. I can remember this one time, I was installing the base molding in a room. As I finished trimming out one of the closets, Dad came into the room to critique my work. He quickly pointed out that I had left a small gap between two pieces of molding. I tried to explain that it was inside of a closet and no one would even notice it. When that didn't work, I attempted to enlighten him to the benefits of caulk. He abruptly informed me that he wasn't going to tolerate this kind of work. He explained that there's a right way to do things and there's wrong way. He then made me rip out the molding and re-do it the right way. He drilled this mentality into me every chance that he got. At the time, I thought he was being hard and unreasonable. But years later, I realized that he was attempting to teach me a lesson in pride and accountability.
Dad also believed that a man's word was his bond. If you looked someone in the eye and told them you were going to do something, you did it. This is something he instilled in me from an early age. He also taught me that it's ok to make mistakes. Just be sure to own up and take responsibility for them.
When it came to music, my father liked the old-school country guys like Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard and the Statler Brothers. I remember introducing him to the song "Country Roads" by John Denver. He really liked the song but he had a problem with John Denver's "long hair". He explained that the song would sound so much better if the singer would get a hair cut.....If you think that's funny, you should have seen the look on his face the first time he saw one of my Ted Nugent albums.
My father really enjoyed going to flea markets and yard sales. As a kid, I would often tag along with him. I was always impressed with his ability to wheel and deal with the different vendors. I would stand quietly and watch him work his magic. He tried to teach me that everything is negotiable. Well, one day, I venture into a 7-11 to buy a Slurpee and a candy bar. The cashier rings up my items and tells me that it's gonna be $1.49. Instinctively, I rub my chin and respond, "I'll tell you what. Make it an even dollar and we've got a deal!".........Yep, I'm a chip off the ol' block.
Through recent years, my Dad spent a lot of time repairing lawn mowers. On any given day, you could find him in his back yard breathing new life into old gas-powered engines. At the first hint of spring, people would come out of the woodwork to visit Brooklyn's famous Lawnmower man. I can remember this one time I stopped by to visit my parents. My Dad wasn't home at the time. Well, there was a knock at the front door and I went to answer it. I was greeted by two men who said that they were here to see the "lawnmower man". It reminded me of that scene where Dorothy and the gang arrive in Oz and ask to see the Wizard.
Anyway, I explained that he wasn't home. They asked if I was his son. I told them that I was. The next thing I know, these guys are shaking my hand and telling me all about the famous Lawnmower Man. It turns out that my Dad was Brooklyn's biggest celebrity since the $99 Dollar Down Man.
Last week, I stopped by my parent's house to cut the grass. The garage was loaded with about a dozen "project" lawnmowers. Making my way through the garage, I tried to start each one with no luck. I asked Marshall, a family friend who lives across the street, if he knew where my father kept his good lawnmower. He told me that my dad sold it to someone a couple of weeks ago......Really, Dad? You couldn't leave me with one working lawnmower??
So anyway, I wind up going to Sears and buying a new one. Here I was, the son of the legendary Lawnmower Man, paying the retail price for a new lawnmower. I felt like such a loser....
Like I eluded to earlier, my dad would always try to get the best possible price on anything. One of his weapons of choice in the war of frugality was the coupon. He would spend Sunday morning clipping all of the coupons out of the Sunday newspaper. It wasn't uncommon for him to stop by five different grocery stores in one day just so he could use every one of them. With a gleam in his eye, he would sometimes show me the receipts just to gloat about how much money he saved. His ultimate goal was to, one day, have a grocery store actually pay him for shopping there.
And the ironic part of of all this is that my Dad would give away half of the things that he bought. He would always start by asking something like, "Hey Ken, do you like ice cream?" I would reply, "Of course. Who doesn't like ice cream?" He would then instruct me to go to his large freezer and pick out a carton. I'm not kidding you, I would open up the freezer and it would look like the inside of a Good Humor truck. I would ask why he bought so much. And whether it was ice cream, peanuts or laundry detergent, the answer was always the same.....because it was on sale and he had a coupon.
My dad was also quite the debater. If you've ever had an argument with him, you know that you couldn't possibly win. Years ago, I remember having a disagreement about our opinions on the best Major League baseball player. We went back and forth, arguing our views. As my Dad's blood reached a boiling point, I tried to settle him down by explaining that this is just my opinion. He told me that I was entitled to my opinion. But I was still wrong.
Since we're in Baltimore, we probably have a few Ravens fans here. Well, my Dad certainly wasn't one of them. If you ever wanted to get him fired up, all you had to do was mention how awesome the Ravens were. And you never, under any circumstances, wanted to utter the words "Ray Lewis" in front of him. This would usually result in him storming into the kitchen where he'd grab his canister full of news clippings. He had collected every negative news story that's ever been printed about the Raven's linebacker. He'd hand you each clipping and say, "Here, go ahead and read this and tell me what you think."
One time, I said, "Dad, this is an opinion piece." He replied, "It doesn't matter, it's the truth! They wouldn't print it if it wasn't true!" Like I said, you're not winning any arguments with him.
Through the years, Dad spent a lot of time with his best friend, John Cook. They could often be seen running local errands together or zipping through John's back yard in a golf cart. My father would often tell me about their adventures. He really enjoyed their time together. I spoke to John last week and I could tell that he was hurting. John, you should know that you made my very father happy and he loved you like a brother.
My Dad would often make his rounds visiting the kids and grand-kids. Always unannounced, you never knew when his white pick-up truck would show up in your driveway. He would stay for a short conversation over a Pepsi and then he would get up and head to his next destination.
I have to tell about one time where one of his impromptu visits caught me totally off guard. I was hosting a Sunday football party at my house. Someone alerted me that my Dad was there. So, I walked down the driveway to greet him. As I got closer, his smile faded and his eyes fixated on my torso. Trying to figure out what was going on, I glanced down and quickly realized that I was wearing a Ray Lewis jersey. I honestly felt like crawling under a rock. I really caught an earful from him as we walked to my house. He eventually forgave me but I knew that I would be in for a barrage of newspaper clippings the next time I stopped by his house.
All of these things will now become a precious memories. We had so many good times and shared so many laughs together. The countless stories of my Dad will keep him alive in our hearts forever.
My father was so proud of all his children and grand-children. He really cherished the time that he got to spend with all of us. And we certainly felt the same way about him. Celebrating 54 years of marriage to my mom this year, my dad stuck by her side until the very end.
Success in life is measured by how may other lives you touch along the way. Ervin Wilson was indeed a successful man.
The tremendous outpouring of love and support during the past week has been overwhelming. People have told me heartfelt stories and shared the memories that they have of my father. It's comforting to know that he had an impact on so many people. Thanks so much to everyone for helping our family through this difficult time. It is appreciated more than you will ever know....
kw
Sunday, August 14, 2016
A Evening With Rik Emmett
I have been a big fan of the Canadian band, Triumph, since I was a teenager. Songs like "Magic Power", "Fight the Good Fight" and "Lay It On The Line" were inspirational tunes that had the ability to make your day just a little bit brighter.
I can remember going to a Triumph show at the old Baltimore Civic Center back in the early 80's. After the opening band (Foghat) finished their set, the crowd began to move closer to the stage. Even though I was already sitting in the second row, I figured this was an opportunity to get even closer. So, securing a spot just to the left of one of the large stage speakers, I leaned against the stage and prepared for a night of melodic tunes and blistering guitar solos.
The good news was that the show was awesome. The not-so-god news was that my ears were ringing for three days. My ear drums had taken a full frontal assault from Rik Emmett's thunderous guitar riffs. I actually began to worry that I might have suffered some irreparable hearing damage. But thankfully, the ringing eventually stopped and my hearing was saved for another day (and many more concerts).
Fast forward a few decades........
Last night, I went to see Rik Emmett last night ar Ram's Head in Annapolis. Similar to that concert in Baltimore 30+ years ago, I was again very close to the stage. However, the Ram's Head venue is more like a large living room. So a couple of small speakers was sufficient to broadcast the sound. I quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
Around 8 o'clock, Rik and his fellow musician, Dave, approached the small stage. They immediately kicked into the classic Triumph tune "Hold On" and then followed up with the familiar instrumental "Petite Etude". Throughout the evening, there was a trade-off of vocal songs and guitar instrumentals. There's no secret that Rik Emmett is a gifted guitarist. But I was also very impressed with his bandmate, Dave Dunlop. They traded off guitar solos much of the evening, each displaying his own special blend of talent.
We heard all of the Triumph classics as well as a cover of Joe Walsh's "Rocky Mountain Way". Perhaps the most surprising song was a quirky rendition of Monty Python's "The Galaxy Song". But as with all of the "normal" songs, they did a brilliant job and it was very entertaining.
Aside from the music, Rik is also a very funny guy. He told stories in between songs that had the Annapolis crowd rolling. Listening to his music and stories in the intimate Ram's Head venue, I felt like I was spending time with an old friend in my living room.
After the show, Rik and Dave hung around to meet people and sign CD's and other memorabilia. And unlike many other performers, they didn't gouge the fans by making them pay another $50 for the meet & greet. I was impressed to see Rik laughing and talking to each and every fan. I got the feeling that he was genuinely good guy who really did care about his fans.
All in all, it was a great night. And as a bonus, I had absolutely no ringing in my ears....
kw
I can remember going to a Triumph show at the old Baltimore Civic Center back in the early 80's. After the opening band (Foghat) finished their set, the crowd began to move closer to the stage. Even though I was already sitting in the second row, I figured this was an opportunity to get even closer. So, securing a spot just to the left of one of the large stage speakers, I leaned against the stage and prepared for a night of melodic tunes and blistering guitar solos.
The good news was that the show was awesome. The not-so-god news was that my ears were ringing for three days. My ear drums had taken a full frontal assault from Rik Emmett's thunderous guitar riffs. I actually began to worry that I might have suffered some irreparable hearing damage. But thankfully, the ringing eventually stopped and my hearing was saved for another day (and many more concerts).
Fast forward a few decades........
Last night, I went to see Rik Emmett last night ar Ram's Head in Annapolis. Similar to that concert in Baltimore 30+ years ago, I was again very close to the stage. However, the Ram's Head venue is more like a large living room. So a couple of small speakers was sufficient to broadcast the sound. I quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
Around 8 o'clock, Rik and his fellow musician, Dave, approached the small stage. They immediately kicked into the classic Triumph tune "Hold On" and then followed up with the familiar instrumental "Petite Etude". Throughout the evening, there was a trade-off of vocal songs and guitar instrumentals. There's no secret that Rik Emmett is a gifted guitarist. But I was also very impressed with his bandmate, Dave Dunlop. They traded off guitar solos much of the evening, each displaying his own special blend of talent.
We heard all of the Triumph classics as well as a cover of Joe Walsh's "Rocky Mountain Way". Perhaps the most surprising song was a quirky rendition of Monty Python's "The Galaxy Song". But as with all of the "normal" songs, they did a brilliant job and it was very entertaining.
Aside from the music, Rik is also a very funny guy. He told stories in between songs that had the Annapolis crowd rolling. Listening to his music and stories in the intimate Ram's Head venue, I felt like I was spending time with an old friend in my living room.
After the show, Rik and Dave hung around to meet people and sign CD's and other memorabilia. And unlike many other performers, they didn't gouge the fans by making them pay another $50 for the meet & greet. I was impressed to see Rik laughing and talking to each and every fan. I got the feeling that he was genuinely good guy who really did care about his fans.
All in all, it was a great night. And as a bonus, I had absolutely no ringing in my ears....
kw
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