Stop The Noise In Here!

Way back when I was in elementary school, there was a substitute teacher (I can't remember her name, so I'll just call her Mrs. C) who would lose it whenever any chatter took place in the classroom. Any side conversations would come to an instant halt when she would shout, "I SAID STOP THE NOISE IN HERE!!"

It was a thunderous command that could be heard down the entire hallway of the old school building. I imagined students in other classrooms jumping from their seats as their daydreams were abruptly interrupted.

Mrs. C was a stout woman who resembled Shirley from the old 70's sit-com "What's Happening". So, when she spoke, people tended to listen. For the most part, she was jolly woman. She often joked and seemed to have a genuine bond with the girls in the class. But when she was giving instructions, it was all business.

She would often strut around the room in these skin-tight polyester pants. They were always a tan color. I'm mot sure if she had several pairs or she wore the same pair every day. This was back in the 70's and times were tight, so it could have been the latter. But anyway, with every ass-dimple on full display, she methodically walked down each aisle looking for an unsuspecting victim. If she ventured upon a distracted student, she would unleash the bullhorn:

"WHATCO DOIN', MR WILSON? WE GOTTA CLASS GOIN' ON HERE! I SAID STOP THE NOISE IN HERE! PAY ATTENTION, BOY!!"

After getting blasted from such a close proximity, my ears were ringing like I just set off an M80 in the broom closet. I would try to shake the cobwebs off as I eagerly waited for Mrs. C to pass me.

This would cause the other students to react with random giggles and comments. This only fueled the fire as it triggered another spontaneous round from Mrs. C ....."I SAID STOP THE NOISE IN HERE!!!" She would then look around the room with an icy gaze just in case anyone thought she was playing. She was like a Drill Sargent laying down the law to the new recruits. It was intense!

When she really got pissed, her head would start to shake and her eyes turned into laser beams. She looked like a heavyweight boxer during a pre-match stare-down. We always felt the urge to laugh but we didn't dare walk down that dark alley.

I especially liked it when she would scream, "DON'T MAKE ME RAISE MY VOICE, Y'ALL!" Even at a young age, I fully appreciated the comedic irony in her statement. It's kind of like when someone asks, "Can I ask you a question?"

Thinking of those powerful pipes, I sit here and wonder if Mrs. C ever moved onto bigger things. She could have probably given Aretha Franklin a run for her money on the big stage. Or maybe she got a job as the PA system at a large sports arena. The late Sam Kinison would have absolutely loved Mrs. C.

Today's kids don't get to experience these types of things. If modern educators raise their voice to the little snowflakes, it would probably initiate a visit from the school board, the ACLU and at least two reps from Child Protective Services. So, all we have left are the survivor stories from those of us who lived it....

kw

2016 - A Tough Year

Well, another year is almost in the books and it can't close soon enough. 2016 was a rather turbulent year all the way around. First off, we lost our share of notable celebrities. The music world was hit especially hard as we said goodbye to iconic performers like Prince, Glenn Frey, Paul Kantner, Maurice White, Keith Emerson, Greg Lake, Leon Russell, Leonard Cohen, Merle Haggard, George Michael and David Bowie. While driving around earlier today, I listened to Bowie's "Blackstar" album. The ominous tone of the music illustrated the void left behind by his departure. If your a Bowie fan (who isn't?), you gotta add this album to your collection.

Hollywood lost it's share of people including Doris Roberts, Patty Duke, Garry Shandling, Gary Marshall, Gene Wilder, Abe Vigoda, Florence Henderson, Alam Thicke , Zsa Zsa Gabor and most recently, Carrie Fisher and her mom, Debbie Reynolds.

The political arena lost notable folks like Nancy Reagan, John Glenn, Janet Reno and Antonin Scalia,

The sports world lost legends like Muhammad Ali, Goldie Howe, Arnold Palmer, Pat Summit and Joe Garagiola.

.............................................................................................................................................

It was a really tough year for me personally. Early in the year, my cousin suffered a stroke which continues to have a lingering effect on her. She is perhaps the most intelligent, articulate person that I've ever known. We would often converse for hours about politics, religion and any other topic du jour. Although we still talk regularly, it's not quite the same. It's really hard to absorb for both of us. I can only hope that things will eventually get better for her.

In June, we said goodbye to my father-in-law who had battled dementia for several years. Although we all prepared for the inevitable, it's always sad when the time finally comes. My father-in-law, who was more of a friend to me, was another person with whom I shared many stories through the years. The memories always bring a smile to my face.

And in August, I was dealt a blow that hit me extra hard. I lost my Dad. Although he would have been 83 years this month, he was very active so I though that he would live forever. Next to his hospital bed, I watched him pass. I fought the uncontrollable urge to cry while trying to appear strong for my sisters, who were also in the room. I left the hospital in a daze as I prepared break the news to my mom, who was dealing with her own health issues at home.

I still get emotional when I think of my Dad. On any given weekend, he would spontaneously show up at my house in his beloved Chevy pick-up truck. Yesterday, I was driving down I-95 and I saw a guy in a pick-up who looked just like my Dad. I know it sounds crazy, but I rode beside him until he eventually took his exit. I really miss my Dad and think about him every day.

Several people have asked me why I haven't been writing over the past few months. Aside from the things I've already mentioned, I also started a new job/career in September (In a bit of twisted irony, I officially got hired on the same day my Dad passed away). After spending 25 years in the IT world, I took a leap of faith and landed a position in the bio-tech world. The learning curve has been quite steep. So, after working extended days, I often find myself doing research when I get home at night. As things (hopefully) become easier, I plan to get back to the little things that really make me happy, like writing...:-)

Thanks for all the support over the past year. Looking forward to a brighter 2017. May each of you have a happy and prosperous New Year!

kw

It's a Wonderful Brewpub

Our day in St. Michaels progressed into a day of browsing the shops on Talbot Street. When we're in a water town, it's mandatory that we pick up at least one crab related item. So, once I helped Tina find an interesting-looking crab sculpture, I knew my daily shopping obligation was fulfilled. Right on queue, my buddy Joe mentioned that the Eastern Shore Brewing Company was a few doors down. Joe and I struck an agreement with the girls that we would sample a few of the micro-brews while they continued to shop. This, my friends, is known as a win-win situation.

As Joe and I make our way towards the brewpub, we are greeted by a guy wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. He tells us that this bar is the place to be and invited us inside. He seemed like a trust-worthy guy to us, so we took him up on his offer. (It turns out that the guy was also the manager). We walked up the steps and through the main door where we were met with a barrage of activity. The crowd was alive and festive as they cheered for a guy who was playing music at the far end of the room.

After grabbing a couple of St. Michael's Ales, Joe and I found an open spot near the center of the room. We were greeted by another ugly sweater wearing guy who turned out to be the owner. He introduced us to his large St. Bernard who was also wearing a Christmas sweater. I've seen some big St. Bernards, but this dog could have eaten Cujo for lunch. It was kind of strange to see this gigantic dog laying in the middle of the floor with all of the activity and noise going on around him. But he seemed perfectly content.

After progressing through a few familiar cover tunes, the musician set down his acoustic guitar and picked up a fiddle. I knew things were about to get serious now. He started into a Dave Matthews song and the crowd responded with approval. As the guy wailed away with his bow, a man and woman broke into a strange Irish dance of some kind. It was actually kind of cool. It reminded me of the scene in "Titanic" where Joe and Rose sneak off to party with the common folks (Ok, I'm a little embarrassed that I can name the characters from the Titanic).

As time moved on, I realized that the girls were still out shopping. I started to worry because they could potentially rack up a serious tab in those little shops. Of course, the girls were probably equally concerned about the bar tab Joe and I could run up in this place. So, to take our mind off this stressful situation, I ordered us another round of beers.

I looked around the room and saw a guy in stove-pipe hat. I don't know, maybe it was the beer talking, but I turned to Joe and said, "Look at that bad-ass hat. I'd like to have one of those."

Joe agreed that I too would look bad-ass in a hat like that. Of course, Tina would probably laugh hysterically and tell me that I look like an oversize Abe Lincoln. So, it let it go...

We eventually met up with the girls who were next door at the St. Michael's Winery doing some indulging of their own. We then headed back to the hotel to get some much needed rest after a long day. Interestingly enough, on the way back to the hotel, Tina found a discarded cardboard guitar. It even had strings on it. I immediately thought back to the Abe Lincoln hat. I imagined donning the hat while doing a Chuck Berry duck-walk down Main Street with the guitar. On second thought, maybe that wouldn't be such a great idea.....

kw

It's a Wonderful Town

Last weekend, Tina and I joined our good friends, Joe and Fran, for a Christmas themed get-away in St. Michaels. If you live in the Maryland area and you've never been to the small eastern shore town, you should really plan a visit. It's a quaint little place, tucked far enough off the beaten path for maximum relaxation.

We got into town Saturday morning as preparations were being made for the annual Christmas parade on the main strip (Talbot Street). We parked our car at our hotel and walked a few short blocks where we were eventually met with an abundance of townspeople. We made our way down the crowded sidewalk as the locals sipped on hot chocolate in anticipation of the parade. In spite of the frigid temperatures, the holiday mood was brought to life by a band of young musicians who played a variety of Christmas classics. In between songs, the conductor acknowledged their challenge by asking, "Do you know how hard it is to play a French Horn with frozen lips?"

As we walked another block, the impact from the wind was really making me wish that I had dressed warmer. I ducked into a local gift shop to take cover from the elements for a few minutes. I pretended to shop as my eyelids slowly thawed. I actually thought about buying some extra warmth in the form of a St. Michael's sweatshirt but the $60 price tag deterred me. I thought about conversing with the cashier but my face wasn't quite limber enough yet.

I ventured back outside to rejoin the rest of the gang. After another 10 minutes, the arctic blast was really taking it's toll on me. My face felt like it was about to break. Desperately trying to tough it out, my dilemma was instantly solved when Joe asked, "Anybody wanna stop in the Irish bar and have a drink?" Although he wasn't wearing a cape, I instantly viewed Joe as a Super Hero.

It was only 11 am but this was an easy choice. I could either stay out in the cold and freeze my ass off or I could sit in a warm bar and enjoy a Harp draft. I think you know where I wound up. So, Joe and I sipped on our beers as the girls ventured back out into the cold to get a good vantage point for the imminent parade. The bartender pointed out that we could watch the parade through the large bay window. Joe and I clanked out beer mugs in celebration. From a nearby jukebox, Mariah Carey was telling the entire bar that all she wanted for Christmas was me. While it was flattering, it was a little uncomfortable at the same time.

Anyway....

The parade progressed down Main Street (actually Talbot Street) with all the usual suspects: Santa Claus, a snowman, Christmas carolers, a John Deere tractor, etc. I have to admit, it was a magical sight. There's something very "Mayberry" about this town. But at this time of  the year, there's an added element of "It's A Wonderful Life". I felt my inner George Bailey trying to escape as I fought the urge to run down the strip and yell, "Hello, you old movie theater. Hello, you rickety old savings and loan..."

After about 30 minutes, an influx of half-frozen spectators made their way into the warm bar. The bartenders did their best to keep up with spontaneous demand. There was a smile on everyone's face as lively conversations commenced throughout the bar. I knew we had a full day of events in front of us but I would have been fine spending the entire afternoon right here. Good people, good times....what more can you ask for?

kw

Pho King Awesome (A Dining Experience)

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

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

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