Sunday, August 5, 2012
Sunday in Central Park
Friday, July 27, 2012
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANTONIO!
HOT AND SEXY!
Antonio Cedeno promised and delivered! Wall to wall HOTNESS!
Arriving late it took my eyes a few minutes to adjust to the beauty that surrounded me! I walked right into a summer blond go-go dancer. SURFS-UP! My mouth dropped and before I could recover a group of Latin hotness made their way around me to go out for a smoke. My mouth has still not recovered from surfer boy! BEAUTIFUL! Suddenly I felt a hug and squeeze and turned to see Antonio Cedeno and the warmest smile. I have known Antonio many years and he still makes me feel so special. He greeted me and asked if I need a drink and set me up before the night took him away. There was so much going on and so many people pouring in to see him! I was surprised that I did not see any of the Jersey friends. I stood there watching Antonio greet his guest and pose for pictures. I was so proud to just watch. I have known Tony (Antonio) for so many years and have seen life test him so many times. He rose to each challenge and always gave it his best. Sometimes he struck out, and sometimes he hit a homerun-tonight was a HOMERUN!
The dancers were the hottest as promised; the group was up for a great time; laughing and chatting up a storm! The music was sick! One great mix after another, DJ Billy Lace kept the crowd alive and moving. Amid the crowd there was a sudden flurry of flashes as Aiden Leslie made his entrance dressed in white. New York is definitely in love with this guy. I tried to say hello to him, but he was whisked away by adoring fans. I have to admit I love when I see people in their environment and Aiden Leslie’s place is to belong to the world. He posed and smiled like a child on Christmas morning. Aiden’s performance was BRILLIANT! I lose sight of my surroundings when he performs. What an aura!
As the evening progressed so did the number of guest and go-go dancers. I wasn’t sure who was a dancer and who was a customer and I was not complaining. The only thing to take attention off the evening’s sexual heat that the party was creating was the appearance of Tone Tone’s birthday cake!
It was a GREAT evening and the present I got was watching my friend Tony (Antonio Cedeno) shine as bright as the stars! Happy Birthday Buddy and many, many more!
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
ANTONIO'S G-LOUNGE BIRTHDAY FRIDAY JULY 27th
So last Sunday while everyone was enjoying themselves at the SAND BLAST in Asbury Park I was taking advantage of a “gay free” NYC- like that could ever happen. I have a friend who is “married” and we go into the city for brunch once a month. He is determined to marry me off.
OK here it is…We are on the PATH into the city to have brunch and I over hear these guys talking about Antonio Cedeno’s. I interrupt their conversation to ask how they know Antonio. “His parties are the hottest in NYC - G-lounge Friday nights. This Friday is his BIRTHDAY Celebration, even you might get lucky.” …And people wonder why I am bitter.
We get off the PATH and hit a brunch on Bleeker. We get one of those gay guides and I open it up to this:
Antonio Cedeno’s Birthday bash at g-lounge on Friday the 27th at 10. Aiden Leslie is performing!
I have a secret school boy crush on AIDEN LESLIE! He is the most down to earth artist I have ever met!
GREAT STAGE TALENT and WARM HUMAN BEING OFF STAGE. Talk about a full package!
Check out his site and I guarantee you will fall in love with him yourself!
http://aidenleslie.com/
After brunch we went to the GYM BAR
My Married friend and I agreed there was no Mr. Right material there, but good drinks.
It was at GYM BAR that we found out that not only is Antonio celebrating his birthday, but also Gabriel Antony. I am still amazed at how I mention “Antonio Cedeno Promotions/Events” in NYC and all these people know who I am talking about! AMAZING!
After a few more drinks and a bad visit to the old LIMELIGHT which is now a department store! We go to BOXERS and I see a kinda possibility guy. I don’t tell my married friend because he would have us locked in a bathroom stall until there was an engagement announcement.
Why do married people thing everyone should be married?
I thought he winked at me and was walking over to him and realized he had a nervous twitch. THANK GOD the bathroom was next to him because I just continued to “walk on by.” In the bathroom I realized a nervous twitch wasn’t the worst thing my kinda possibility Mr. Right could suffer from. Such is my love life!
We ended up at SPLASH. It was slow, but what do you want at 5pm on a Sunday afternoon. I see a guy who was cute and I think he followed me from GYM BAR. My married friend had to get home and marinate chicken for his lover/husbands dinner the following night…I am just getting into the night and we have to catch a train! I curse not bringing my car!
I brazenly go over to the cute guy and hand him the AD for ANTONIO CEDENO’S hotmale
I will be there and I hope to see you!
That goes out to ALL OF YOU TOO!!!!!!
Take off to the sounds of Billy Lace for the sexiest night in town. With hosts Birthday Antonio Cedeno & Gabriel Anthony.
Destination HOT MALE.
Aiden Leslie Performing Live ! "Diamond Dreams"
Special guests Ruffskin( David Amuso),
Platinum Wet,( Antonio Martinez),
Cakes Boss's Tony Tone Tone Albanese is whipping up Something outrageous
Featuring the HOT HOUSE dancers,
the hottest staff and crowd in NYC.
Drink specials from 10pm - midnight.
NO COVER
Thursday, June 9, 2011
The Kindergarten Capers- part1
So I get a call at 5:47 am to teach kindergarten. “It’s a half day but you will be paid for the full day!” the woman in charge of calling substitutes in my school district informs me. “Sweet!” I thought to myself. I got into teaching a few years ago and keeping with my” fear of commitments”, I am not a permanent teacher, just a substitute. Actually, once I got my certification to teach there became a freeze on hiring teachers. If I was religious man I would think that God was trying to tell me something, but conveniently I am not on speaking terms with God at the moment- when I get a full time job, maybe then I will talk to him again.
Anyway, there I am getting ready to go into school for my easy money making half day. I should have known I was in trouble when the lesson plans were 8 pages long- Double sided. High-lighted even before the lesson plan begins- in CAPITAL BOLD LETTERS- SEE NURSE. I go to see the nurse…”Well Joey-John and Macolany and Cynathith in the AM have diabetes and need a shot 15 minutes before snack and have to drink OJ but Joey-John can only drink the pulp and Cynathith gets the heart healthy but only a half a glass or she will convulse. Danialannalee is sensitive to peanuts but only the shell peanuts and Westanora has an abnormal fear of thunderstorms. The PM children have it worst…”
She continued to list all the inflictions these poor children would be succumbing to before the bus comes to take them home. Bus?
The school secretary chimed in “Oh yes, The AM students will be awaiting at the classroom door, but at 9:27 AM Micahedksju and Albernessy come to the office and are bussed to another school. At 10:30 the AM students pack up and go home and the PM students arrive on a bus and have to be picked up at EXACTLY 10:50AM..Now Jarcolester and Anniemarilyn and Markuserious stay over from the AM class, but any other students are still waiting to be picked up you have to bring them to the office and call home before the bus drops off the other students.” I must have looked like a deer caught in head lights because I was assured that it would all work out and to just go relax at the classroom. I still had 10 minutes before the bell rang. I got to my classroom and the door was locked. I go strolling to find the key. The janitor kept be entertained telling me the history of who pukes and who poops in their pants. Yes, what sub has to do to get into their classroom. As we turn the corner I see 17 little children crying hysterically! “What’s the matter?” I cried!
“The teacher forgot us!” they muffled through their tears.
“I am your teacher and I didn’t forget you.” I announce as if I was Superman to the rescue.
Little Jabar kicks me in the shins “Then why did you leave us in the hallway alone to get kidnapped?!” The janitor informs me that kindergarten starts 10 minutes earlier than the other grades.
Mind you I don’t even have the classroom door opened yet
I open the door and the little cherub’s almost knock me over to get to their seats and unpack. They know their routine and plow ahead. I am trying to make out this lesson plan only to notice that the kids are faster at settling in than I am at reading. I try to take attendance only to realize that I am an illiterate when it comes to pronouncing names. What happened to Mary and Johnny? Now I have Octovianna and Analissa and Gaybrealla. I finish taking attendance had ask one of the kids to take it to the office.
At that moment little girl with a name that starts with the letter X starts to cry.
“What is wrong?” I ask her.
“It’s my job to take the attendance down to the office.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t ask.”
Okay it is going to be that kind of day! She smiles and says “Ah-choo! Ah-choo!” “Bless you, are you alright?” I ask. She gets excited and helps this girl who just came in, unpack. I was about to ask her who she was when “Puke it up Peppie”, who seems to throws up when it’s too hot, starts to gag. I managed to get him into the bathroom before it was too late.
All this before 9:00 AM.
First up-morning work, I was left a math work sheet with cent amounts for the students to work on. I hand them out and before I even got the last page handed out I see hands up.
“Yes little boy in the boy?”
“My name is Montigaincarlosabdiel.”
“Well today it’s little boy in the boy.”
“But I like and I am proud of being called Montigaincarlosabdiel.”
“Well today be proud to be called little annoying boy in the blue, now what did you want?”
“What happened to your hair?”
“Are you over 50?”
“Do you have a wife?”
“What is your favorite color?”
“Why is your shirt all wet.”
“Your hair is wet.”
And 38 more questions
The questions came faster than my brain could comprehend. There has to be a Guinness Book of records category for the most questions answered in a 30 second time period.
The coin work sheet had pictures of coins and the students had to identify the amounts...ex: 5 pennies circle the amount 6 or 5…
I figured this would give me a few minutes to look over the 8 page lesson plan…Before I could put my butt in the seat I hear some sniffles:
I look up from reading to ask, “What’s wrong?”
“We don’t know how to add!” Four of the students flood the room with their tears!
“Chill-lax” I tell them
They think this is the funniest thing they ever head and start to laugh. I am trying to get their attention and the more I try to calm them down the louder their laughing gets. Children are so funny. I am getting really flustered and trying to stay angry, but the more I get angry the harder they laugh. They think my face looks funny when I get angry and I think of Donald Duck getting angry and how I used to laugh at him. I start to laugh myself.
I try to teach them how to count but this one kid is more interested in sticking the pencil up his nose. It gets stuck. He thinks it’s hysterical. “Fine you walk around all day with a pencil hanging out of your nose and be called Pencil Nose Boy!”
“Pencil Nose Boy! HAHAHA That is funny! I’m a Pencil Nose boy!”
I send him down to the nurse with a partner.
The lesson plan had allowed 15 minutes for to execute and we were hitting 30 minutes adding pennies! I decided to move on to calendar time. If you were want to know what it is like to be a P.O.W. just try to skip a Kindergarten’s calendar time.
“We HAVE to do calendar time!!!!”
“You are SO MEAN!”
“That’s NOT how you do it!”
“We have to sing the weather song!”
“You’re not a good teacher!”
“We HATE You”
“I want to sing the days of the week song!”
“I want to do the weather!”
Needless to say these kids take calendar time pretty serious! In the middle of calendar time I get a call from the office. “You marked Nashew absent but her parents said they dropped her off this morning. Before I send out an Amber Alert can you double check?” I turn to the class “Is a Naschew here?”
“Here I am!”
“When did you get here?”
“I told you Ah-chew was here and all you said was Bless you to me! Mr. R you gotta learn to listen”
I inform the front office that she is here and a sigh of relief is heard. I ask how Pencil boy is doing and she sounds puzzled. I explain that I sent two boys down to the office about 15 minutes ago. They never arrived.
I hang up the phone and my heart sinks. I hear they names being called over the speaker. I get a call a few minutes later. They were found and the pencil was released. Seems he became the school “show and tell” stopping into all the classrooms on the way down to the nurse’s office explaining how he got the nick name “Pencil Nose boy.”
So as I try to calm down the little cherubs, they announce “IT’S SNACK TIME!!!!!” YAY!!!”
These kids can’t add 4 pennies but they know when it’s snack time. I threaten to take their snack time away if they don’t lower their voices…
“We’ll DIE without snack!”
“You’re trying to KILL US!”
Three of the kids start to cry thinking they are going to die…
“I just want to see my mommy!” Magnanagellio cries
I try to calm them down the kids down by reassuring them that they weren’t going to die. They only calm down after I trip over Nathan-Daniel back pack. Why it was in the middle of the room only the Kindergarten fairies know.
I get them calmed down and have them write the letter “Z”-TOTAL CHAOS! It amazes me that we can teach 4 year olds to program DVD players but cannot teach them how to make the letter Z. Hananyteate was making the letter “R” because they are prettier. They were making 7’s and 2’s and had no concept what a “Z” was, never mind what words started with a “Z”.
Then one pencil tip broke and the chaos continues. Who has a pencil, who doesn’t. All of a sudden the word pencil makes them all laugh and call out pencil nose boy.
FINALLY it is pack up time. You would think they were Jews escaping the German’s. I have them lines up and Manasphit and Gallaphish are staying for the afternoon class and Sassone and Teachnique are getting pick-up by their neighbor, but not the one who usually picks them up????? Anyone left over bring to the office by 10:45 but you have to be back at the door by 10:50 to pick up the PM bus load of children and you cannot leave the students who are staying from the AM session in the room alone.
So at 10:45 AM I am marching with 10 out of 16 kids who weren’t picked up and I have to be back at the door in 5 minutes…I get into the office with these little midgets and run to the other end of the school as I get half way back to the door I realize I left the two that I have to carry over from the AM to the PM session. I have to run back to the office and get the little guys, who don’t want to leave the air-conditioned office. Knowing I have less than a minute to get to the door for the bus kids I grab the two kids under my arms and take off. I feel like Rev. Scott in “The Poseidon Adventure” when he grabs Robin, the little kid, and races to safety. Unfortunately, I was three minutes late and had an angry mob waiting. “It’s hot out here.”
“Who are you?”
“Where is our REAL teacher!”
“Where’s your hair?”
And the PM session begins ... more to come from Little French Boy…
PS...Creative license has been applied
Anyway, there I am getting ready to go into school for my easy money making half day. I should have known I was in trouble when the lesson plans were 8 pages long- Double sided. High-lighted even before the lesson plan begins- in CAPITAL BOLD LETTERS- SEE NURSE. I go to see the nurse…”Well Joey-John and Macolany and Cynathith in the AM have diabetes and need a shot 15 minutes before snack and have to drink OJ but Joey-John can only drink the pulp and Cynathith gets the heart healthy but only a half a glass or she will convulse. Danialannalee is sensitive to peanuts but only the shell peanuts and Westanora has an abnormal fear of thunderstorms. The PM children have it worst…”
She continued to list all the inflictions these poor children would be succumbing to before the bus comes to take them home. Bus?
The school secretary chimed in “Oh yes, The AM students will be awaiting at the classroom door, but at 9:27 AM Micahedksju and Albernessy come to the office and are bussed to another school. At 10:30 the AM students pack up and go home and the PM students arrive on a bus and have to be picked up at EXACTLY 10:50AM..Now Jarcolester and Anniemarilyn and Markuserious stay over from the AM class, but any other students are still waiting to be picked up you have to bring them to the office and call home before the bus drops off the other students.” I must have looked like a deer caught in head lights because I was assured that it would all work out and to just go relax at the classroom. I still had 10 minutes before the bell rang. I got to my classroom and the door was locked. I go strolling to find the key. The janitor kept be entertained telling me the history of who pukes and who poops in their pants. Yes, what sub has to do to get into their classroom. As we turn the corner I see 17 little children crying hysterically! “What’s the matter?” I cried!
“The teacher forgot us!” they muffled through their tears.
“I am your teacher and I didn’t forget you.” I announce as if I was Superman to the rescue.
Little Jabar kicks me in the shins “Then why did you leave us in the hallway alone to get kidnapped?!” The janitor informs me that kindergarten starts 10 minutes earlier than the other grades.
Mind you I don’t even have the classroom door opened yet
I open the door and the little cherub’s almost knock me over to get to their seats and unpack. They know their routine and plow ahead. I am trying to make out this lesson plan only to notice that the kids are faster at settling in than I am at reading. I try to take attendance only to realize that I am an illiterate when it comes to pronouncing names. What happened to Mary and Johnny? Now I have Octovianna and Analissa and Gaybrealla. I finish taking attendance had ask one of the kids to take it to the office.
At that moment little girl with a name that starts with the letter X starts to cry.
“What is wrong?” I ask her.
“It’s my job to take the attendance down to the office.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t ask.”
Okay it is going to be that kind of day! She smiles and says “Ah-choo! Ah-choo!” “Bless you, are you alright?” I ask. She gets excited and helps this girl who just came in, unpack. I was about to ask her who she was when “Puke it up Peppie”, who seems to throws up when it’s too hot, starts to gag. I managed to get him into the bathroom before it was too late.
All this before 9:00 AM.
First up-morning work, I was left a math work sheet with cent amounts for the students to work on. I hand them out and before I even got the last page handed out I see hands up.
“Yes little boy in the boy?”
“My name is Montigaincarlosabdiel.”
“Well today it’s little boy in the boy.”
“But I like and I am proud of being called Montigaincarlosabdiel.”
“Well today be proud to be called little annoying boy in the blue, now what did you want?”
“What happened to your hair?”
“Are you over 50?”
“Do you have a wife?”
“What is your favorite color?”
“Why is your shirt all wet.”
“Your hair is wet.”
And 38 more questions
The questions came faster than my brain could comprehend. There has to be a Guinness Book of records category for the most questions answered in a 30 second time period.
The coin work sheet had pictures of coins and the students had to identify the amounts...ex: 5 pennies circle the amount 6 or 5…
I figured this would give me a few minutes to look over the 8 page lesson plan…Before I could put my butt in the seat I hear some sniffles:
I look up from reading to ask, “What’s wrong?”
“We don’t know how to add!” Four of the students flood the room with their tears!
“Chill-lax” I tell them
They think this is the funniest thing they ever head and start to laugh. I am trying to get their attention and the more I try to calm them down the louder their laughing gets. Children are so funny. I am getting really flustered and trying to stay angry, but the more I get angry the harder they laugh. They think my face looks funny when I get angry and I think of Donald Duck getting angry and how I used to laugh at him. I start to laugh myself.
I try to teach them how to count but this one kid is more interested in sticking the pencil up his nose. It gets stuck. He thinks it’s hysterical. “Fine you walk around all day with a pencil hanging out of your nose and be called Pencil Nose Boy!”
“Pencil Nose Boy! HAHAHA That is funny! I’m a Pencil Nose boy!”
I send him down to the nurse with a partner.
The lesson plan had allowed 15 minutes for to execute and we were hitting 30 minutes adding pennies! I decided to move on to calendar time. If you were want to know what it is like to be a P.O.W. just try to skip a Kindergarten’s calendar time.
“We HAVE to do calendar time!!!!”
“You are SO MEAN!”
“That’s NOT how you do it!”
“We have to sing the weather song!”
“You’re not a good teacher!”
“We HATE You”
“I want to sing the days of the week song!”
“I want to do the weather!”
Needless to say these kids take calendar time pretty serious! In the middle of calendar time I get a call from the office. “You marked Nashew absent but her parents said they dropped her off this morning. Before I send out an Amber Alert can you double check?” I turn to the class “Is a Naschew here?”
“Here I am!”
“When did you get here?”
“I told you Ah-chew was here and all you said was Bless you to me! Mr. R you gotta learn to listen”
I inform the front office that she is here and a sigh of relief is heard. I ask how Pencil boy is doing and she sounds puzzled. I explain that I sent two boys down to the office about 15 minutes ago. They never arrived.
I hang up the phone and my heart sinks. I hear they names being called over the speaker. I get a call a few minutes later. They were found and the pencil was released. Seems he became the school “show and tell” stopping into all the classrooms on the way down to the nurse’s office explaining how he got the nick name “Pencil Nose boy.”
So as I try to calm down the little cherubs, they announce “IT’S SNACK TIME!!!!!” YAY!!!”
These kids can’t add 4 pennies but they know when it’s snack time. I threaten to take their snack time away if they don’t lower their voices…
“We’ll DIE without snack!”
“You’re trying to KILL US!”
Three of the kids start to cry thinking they are going to die…
“I just want to see my mommy!” Magnanagellio cries
I try to calm them down the kids down by reassuring them that they weren’t going to die. They only calm down after I trip over Nathan-Daniel back pack. Why it was in the middle of the room only the Kindergarten fairies know.
I get them calmed down and have them write the letter “Z”-TOTAL CHAOS! It amazes me that we can teach 4 year olds to program DVD players but cannot teach them how to make the letter Z. Hananyteate was making the letter “R” because they are prettier. They were making 7’s and 2’s and had no concept what a “Z” was, never mind what words started with a “Z”.
Then one pencil tip broke and the chaos continues. Who has a pencil, who doesn’t. All of a sudden the word pencil makes them all laugh and call out pencil nose boy.
FINALLY it is pack up time. You would think they were Jews escaping the German’s. I have them lines up and Manasphit and Gallaphish are staying for the afternoon class and Sassone and Teachnique are getting pick-up by their neighbor, but not the one who usually picks them up????? Anyone left over bring to the office by 10:45 but you have to be back at the door by 10:50 to pick up the PM bus load of children and you cannot leave the students who are staying from the AM session in the room alone.
So at 10:45 AM I am marching with 10 out of 16 kids who weren’t picked up and I have to be back at the door in 5 minutes…I get into the office with these little midgets and run to the other end of the school as I get half way back to the door I realize I left the two that I have to carry over from the AM to the PM session. I have to run back to the office and get the little guys, who don’t want to leave the air-conditioned office. Knowing I have less than a minute to get to the door for the bus kids I grab the two kids under my arms and take off. I feel like Rev. Scott in “The Poseidon Adventure” when he grabs Robin, the little kid, and races to safety. Unfortunately, I was three minutes late and had an angry mob waiting. “It’s hot out here.”
“Who are you?”
“Where is our REAL teacher!”
“Where’s your hair?”
And the PM session begins ... more to come from Little French Boy…
PS...Creative license has been applied
Sunday, May 8, 2011
copyright
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Copyright © [2000-2011] [Edward Russini]
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For the avoidance of doubt, you must not adapt, edit, change, transform, publish, republish, distribute, redistribute, broadcast, rebroadcast or show or play in public this website or the material on this website (in any form or media) without Edward Russini's prior written permission.
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Copyright © [2000-2011] [Edward Russini]
Ownership of copyright
The copyright in this website and the material on this website (including without limitation the text, computer code, artwork, photographs, images, music, audio material, video material and audio-visual material on this website) is owned by Edward Russini.
Edward Russini does not grant you any other rights in relation to this website or the material on this website. In other words, all other rights are reserved.
For the avoidance of doubt, you must not adapt, edit, change, transform, publish, republish, distribute, redistribute, broadcast, rebroadcast or show or play in public this website or the material on this website (in any form or media) without Edward Russini's prior written permission.
Data mining
The automated and/or systematic collection of data from this website is prohibited.
Permissions
You may request permission to use the copyright materials on this website by writing to NJEJR@aol.com.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
A Motherless Mother's Day
A Motherless Mother’s Day
When I lost my mother a friend welcomed me to the “club”. I felt a little uncomfortable being told that I was in a “club”. To me clubs were fun. There was nothing “fun” about being motherless. All too soon I found out what she meant by being a member of a club. No one but another “club member” knows what it feels like when you realize you don’t have parents, you have a parent. You now go to your dad’s house, not your parents’ home. Your friends talk about their parents and you don’t have anything to add to the conversation, or they apology and change the subject. You feel like a helium balloon that escaped the security of a warm hand holding you in place. You float aimlessly.
I drifted the first couple of months. I found alcohol my best friend. I found the voices of angels in every sip. The voices would tell me this isn’t the answer. I told them to shut up. I wanted my liquor and one night dates. I didn’t want a commitment because then you have to care and when you care you lose the person to death. I didn’t want that again. My mother would come to me and tell me this isn’t the way she wants to be remembered. I convinced myself that it was all in my mind and not her.
The holidays came and I walked through them. I would listen to friends talk about hating family and I would just go into the bathroom and cry. They say the person you kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve is the person you spend the year with-I kissed a picture of my mother.
May brought the knife in my heart – Mother’s Day. I am convinced that Hallmark is owned by Satan itself. Being reminded you are single on Valentine isn’t kind, but Hallmark has a “To My Single Friend On Valentine’s Day” card. So, now it’s a month long reminder that I am motherless. I want to remember MY mother and how she believed “Every day is mother’s day- where’s my present?”
I find myself frozen, crying in the Hallmark store at New York’s Port Authority Bus Terminal .I’m so over-whelmed by all this Mother’s Day stuff and I have no one to buy it for. This little oriental store owner comes smiling over to me and tells me that I am upsetting the other customers by standing in the doorway crying, and my tears are staining the stuffed Bugs Bunny’s.
I end up in the Macdonald’s and order a hamburger and shake. I hate eating alone so I try and find a corner and eat so no one can see that I am eating alone, I sit in the corner and notice a mother and father and small boy. The small boy, about 8 years old, is helping his mother sit. She is heavy and is having trouble adjusting in her seat and her loving son is helping. I become that loving son and I remember helping my mother and I start to cry. I don’t want people to see me crying, but they are staring at me. I can’t slip out of the Macdonald’s because I placed myself in a corner so no one would notice me and now EVERYONE is noticing me! Then I see them all looking at their food and I catch a reflection of myself in the window and see that hamburger meat is hanging out of my mouth. Everyone is wondering if I am crying because my hamburger is bad. I just want this mother who has a loving son helping her to hug me. I want to feel a mother’s hug. I get out of my seat and start to walk over and as I do I over hear her say to her husband, “we have to get out of the city- all these sicko’s are taking over.”
I start to laugh- that’s what my mother would have said. I take this as my mother’s way of letting me know she is fine.
A friend of mine lost his mother and I welcome him into the club. He reminds me that is mother was old and had a good life. He also felt free to travel now.
My mother was right about mother’s day, it is every day and she is missed every day. I’m still not sure if I want to attach my heart to someone , but it’s nice to know I have a heart to be attach
When I lost my mother a friend welcomed me to the “club”. I felt a little uncomfortable being told that I was in a “club”. To me clubs were fun. There was nothing “fun” about being motherless. All too soon I found out what she meant by being a member of a club. No one but another “club member” knows what it feels like when you realize you don’t have parents, you have a parent. You now go to your dad’s house, not your parents’ home. Your friends talk about their parents and you don’t have anything to add to the conversation, or they apology and change the subject. You feel like a helium balloon that escaped the security of a warm hand holding you in place. You float aimlessly.
I drifted the first couple of months. I found alcohol my best friend. I found the voices of angels in every sip. The voices would tell me this isn’t the answer. I told them to shut up. I wanted my liquor and one night dates. I didn’t want a commitment because then you have to care and when you care you lose the person to death. I didn’t want that again. My mother would come to me and tell me this isn’t the way she wants to be remembered. I convinced myself that it was all in my mind and not her.
The holidays came and I walked through them. I would listen to friends talk about hating family and I would just go into the bathroom and cry. They say the person you kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve is the person you spend the year with-I kissed a picture of my mother.
May brought the knife in my heart – Mother’s Day. I am convinced that Hallmark is owned by Satan itself. Being reminded you are single on Valentine isn’t kind, but Hallmark has a “To My Single Friend On Valentine’s Day” card. So, now it’s a month long reminder that I am motherless. I want to remember MY mother and how she believed “Every day is mother’s day- where’s my present?”
I find myself frozen, crying in the Hallmark store at New York’s Port Authority Bus Terminal .I’m so over-whelmed by all this Mother’s Day stuff and I have no one to buy it for. This little oriental store owner comes smiling over to me and tells me that I am upsetting the other customers by standing in the doorway crying, and my tears are staining the stuffed Bugs Bunny’s.
I end up in the Macdonald’s and order a hamburger and shake. I hate eating alone so I try and find a corner and eat so no one can see that I am eating alone, I sit in the corner and notice a mother and father and small boy. The small boy, about 8 years old, is helping his mother sit. She is heavy and is having trouble adjusting in her seat and her loving son is helping. I become that loving son and I remember helping my mother and I start to cry. I don’t want people to see me crying, but they are staring at me. I can’t slip out of the Macdonald’s because I placed myself in a corner so no one would notice me and now EVERYONE is noticing me! Then I see them all looking at their food and I catch a reflection of myself in the window and see that hamburger meat is hanging out of my mouth. Everyone is wondering if I am crying because my hamburger is bad. I just want this mother who has a loving son helping her to hug me. I want to feel a mother’s hug. I get out of my seat and start to walk over and as I do I over hear her say to her husband, “we have to get out of the city- all these sicko’s are taking over.”
I start to laugh- that’s what my mother would have said. I take this as my mother’s way of letting me know she is fine.
A friend of mine lost his mother and I welcome him into the club. He reminds me that is mother was old and had a good life. He also felt free to travel now.
My mother was right about mother’s day, it is every day and she is missed every day. I’m still not sure if I want to attach my heart to someone , but it’s nice to know I have a heart to be attach
Friday, April 29, 2011
Eddy's Pity Party
Eddy’s Pity Party
So I get to my car after work only to find that someone backed into my car. Someone either K turned or pulled out of a drive way. I want to cry. I just spent the week “day” subbing after finishing a long term teaching sub position. I found out that the district I am in will probably not be hiring next year. I have to find a job for the summer and hope for a teaching position for next fall. I just buried my friend’s father who was like a second father to me. He always had me sit down and tell him what was happening with me- just like my dad. He listened and gave me advice-just like my dad. I didn’t take the advice-just like I never took my dad’s. As I looked at him lying in a coffin I feel guilty because his sons NEVER made him feel like he was a burden and I always made my dad feel like one. Whenever we went out to dinner he would embarrass the hell out of me! He would order a hamburger deluxe without the pickle, lettuce and tomato and no cole slaw. I would argue with him –“
“Why order the deluxe if you don’t want what makes it a deluxe? “ “
I just want the fries.”
“Then order a hamburger with an order of fries.”
“It’s fifty cents more that way.”
“I’ll give you the fifty cents.”
Fifteen minutes later…”Where’s my burger?”
“You ordered it well done.” ….
”So?”
“It takes time for them to burn it.” …
Burger arrives and is sent back because the pickle touched the burger bun…
”I can’t have pickle touch my bun. I am allergic to pickles”
“You are not allergic to pickles.”
“They don’t know that.”
The man was kicked out of a Friendly’s, an ihop, a Sizzler’s and a hot dog stand. Who gets banned from a hot dog stand? My dad.
I miss him every day but if the truth be told I don’t miss going out to dinner with me. Losing my friend’s dad was like losing my dad all over again and it didn’t help to find that he is buried in the same cemetery as my dad.
Thursday morning I woke up so excited. As a substitute teacher you get to know many kids and watch them grow. For the past two years I was exclusive at one school and watched these children grow into terrific kids. At the beginning of this year I was sent to another school for a long term and wasn’t able to meet these kids until Thursday! I usually park my car in back of the school, but I was in a hurry this morning and ended up parking on a neighboring street. I go into the school and am greeted by the little chick-lets that I have seen grow through the years. They all smile and make me feel so good to be a teacher.
At Lunch time I went to my car and my jaw dropped! Someone had hit between the driver’s door and front wheel making opening the door near impossible. It opens slightly and I literally had to inhale until I turned purple to slide into the car. A HIT AND RUN and I am driving a car that belongs in a crash derby. WHY ME! Is all I can think? Where is my good luck?
I think to myself I need to get away. A friend of mine invited me up to Rhode Island. He invites me every three months and every three months he finds a reason to cancel. I just want a few days away to just clear my mind. Take a vacation from life. He promised and was making plans and at 2:30 I get a text message, “My boss wants me to work this week-end. I haven’t said yes yet.”
So here I am at the end of the week having a pity party for myself! Why is God doing this to me? Why can’t I have one GOOD day? Why can’t I have some happiness? !!!!
I have no hope left and just want one break; a teaching job, a new car, a glimmer of light to relight my hope- but I get nothing.
I find myself on the track and run to forget. I can’t concentrate on the run so I run over to the “Stop and Shop” to buy a salad for dinner. I get my lettuce and tomatoes and head to the self-service express line. There is person checking out and one waiting. I get in line and the man in front of me is frustrated that it is taking so long. I start getting frustrated myself. I see this tired looking woman. She looks old, but you can tell it’s from life taking its toll on her. It is apparent that her teen age son suffers from palsy. He is trying to help her take things out of the cart. The guy in front of me is making noises and getting agitated. The teen ager takes a jar of pickles and gets nervous from this guy mumbling and drops the pickles. The jar breaks. Everyone jumps! The guy in front of my storms off screaming, “Damn retard!” The woman yells at the son for trying to help and stares at me in anger. I find calmness in the chaotic moment. I look at her and say, “God must love you a lot to send you such a special son.” She looks at her son and smiles. “He is my life.” I smell the pickle juice and think of my dad. All the managers come to help clean up the mess.
I walk home from the store thinking how lucky I was to have the opportunity to go on job interviews. I see people at a bus stop and I think my car still runs. And as far as Rhode Island is concerned, I can do that any week. Compared to some people’s lives my problems are bumps next to the mountains they have to climb.
I think of my dad and I realize people don't come back to you in dreams and visions, telling you how great you are. They come back to you in actions that remind you of them and it's their way of saying, "You did good." I think it's ok to throw a pity party as long as you know when the party is over and you get back into the world of the living.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
SECOND SERVING
So they just wrapped filming one of my short stories which became the longest short film ever! The story is a simple one…KINDNESS.
Do because you want, not because you want something.
I got my inspiration when I lived in NYC and watched as people raced by this homeless guy who was sitting outside the subway entrance, on a subway grate trying to keep warm from the steam rising. He had a cup of hot something and was wrapped in a blanket trying to stay warm. People were racing by and he tried to stay out of their way, but they seemed determined to get in his way and remind him how unfortunate he was. Someone kicked over his hot drink and didn’t even think that he deserved an apology. I watched this wanting to yell at them, but no one stayed long to hear never-mind care. My attention was drawn away by a street preacher announcing that the second coming of Jesus was upon us! That he was living among us! I stared harder at the homeless man and I got it…He was Jesus and he came back as a homeless man. He is looking for someone to show kindness and prove that there was love left in the loveless city. I got it. I went over to him and we shared a knowing smile as I dropped some loose change I had in my pocket into his opened hat. He smiled back and then looked thought the change I dropped and picked out the pennies and handed them back to me. “I don’t take pennies” he said as I took the pennies back. I was stumped. Jesus was kind of rude to me.
I walked by the street preacher who also announced that GOD showed him the year that the world would end-2000 (this happened back in 1997). I asked how he found out and he informed me that GOD gave him a sign in his cereal. I thought for a moment and asked if he ate Cheerio’s? I mean making 2000 out of Cheerio’s isn’t very imaginative. He brushed me away saying Satan had sent me…Yeah, like he’s the first one to say that to me.
So when I got home I wanted to write about the experience and immortalize my own revelation about the inhumanity that I had experience. I worked with a girl named Tamela and she was a heavy set African American girl who was so sweet but kept going out with losers because that is all who would date her. He was so self conscience about her weight and would never go after attractive men because they would just “sleep with me, get me pregnant and leave me with supporting the boo-boo’s of my booty call!” She was probably right, hell if I had a kid for all my booty calls I would be able to start my own village. There was one moment with Tamela that always stuck out in my memory. We worked in a restaurant together, she was the hostess and I was the bartender. We were hanging at the host station when one of the under-paid, overly sarcastic waitresses came over and told us a customer wanted to know if could get a second serving because she was still hungry. Tamela just shoot back, “where does she think she is at grandma’s house?” I could not stop laughing.
When I started writing the story I knew right away I wanted it to take on the old black and white nickelodeon, “Perils of Pauline style” silent with underscorepiano music and a few written words and at the end a message.
The title “SECOND SERVING”
YOU are now in "the time of the end."
"the seventh angel is about to sound his trumpet"
Once upon a time in a city like New York City there was a neighborhood like Harlem and a single mother of two like Tamela. There were many people in this place that was like New York City especially in the neighborhood like Harlem and a single mother of two like Tamela could easily get swallowed up in such a place. A person would have to wake up fighting every day just to survive, Tamela was no exception. She considered it a victory to make it home and placing dinner on the table for her two reasons for living the life. Each day she would plunge into a hole in the ground that was like a subway entrance and escape the hole in the late evening. What went on in-between was a mystery to Tamela as well as to us. Everything evening there was a less fortunate man who looked like a homeless person. He would try to bring a smile to Tamela’s face, but she would have none of it! She had no reason to smile, nor did she think it was the place of a homeless bum to suggest it! “Get a job and leave me alone” is what went through her head. “Would that really make your life easier” he thought back. He would greet her everyday and just smile. She wasn’t enjoying this uncomfortable relationship.
While doing laundry one day her children came upon him and liked the tricks he performed. Tamela was horrified that they were near him and discouraged them from being kind to him. They wanted to give him change, but Tamela did not want them to be nice! She reluctantly gave them change and got them home safely!
The next day was no different as she exited the hell hole she saw her secret stalker waiting to make her smile. She avoided eye contact and ran into the super market to get dinner for her kids. When she exited the store she saw her secret stalker and she banged into a happy couple who thought she was drunk and left her on the sidewalk with all her groceries scattered around. It was Tamela’s secret stalker who came to her rescue. She, still avoiding his eyes, grabbed things from him and noticed her roasted chicken was out of its case. She couldn’t serve it to her children and was going to throw it out- instead she gave it to her homeless hero. He was so happy and grateful; Tamela was just disgusted and wanted to get away.
When Tamela gets into the safety of her “self made” prison she saw the hungry faces of her two reasons for living this life. It dawned on her that she had given their dinner away and she had no money! She saw the pancake mix on the kitchen table and improvised a breakfast dinner. Exhausted she saw the happy faces of the two reasons for her living this life and started to clean up. It was then that the male reason for her living this life that tugged on her shirt, holding his empty dinner plate. He wanted a second serving. Tamela scraped what was left in the bowl and managed to make a pancake. As the pancake was being created a slow discovery of shock appears on Tamela’s face. The pancake shines in GOLD and the face of Jesus Christ appears on the pancake! Standing there shocked Tamela cries out! She runs out into the apartment hallway with the frying pan banging on the neighbor’s doors. Everyone runs out into the hall and some start praying. Tamela’s best friend ushers her back into her apartment.
We see people lined up to pray at the pancake, which is now in a glass covered cake plate. The two reasons for Tamela living this life had their own pancake mix stand selling batter for five dollars a bag.
Tamela secretly had travel brochures and wish list of what to do with the money they were making. It was then that the phone rang. Tamela answers her cell to find Father O’Hara, the local priest, calling out of the blue. Seems Father O’Hara wants a cut of the profit…I mean wants to legitimize the miracle of the pancake. He makes Tamela an offer she cannot refuse.
Father O’Hara places the pancake on the altar and gets a call that Tamela is on her way for her check. He leaves the pancake uncovered. The smell lures the hungry homeless hero into the church, passes all the silent sinners praying for redemption. The hungry homeless hero takes the miracle pancake and sits on the altar to enjoy his food from GOD. The sinners see the bum eating Jesus and attack him! They are throwing him and grabbing the miracle. Father O’Hara and Tamela, holding the check, run in and try to break it up. Tamela notices the miracle pancake missing. After Father O’Hara breaks up the fight and sees the pancake scattered all over the altar floor he takes the check out of Tamela’s hand and leave. Everyone leaves and Tamela is all alone with the man that took her life away from her.
The hungry homeless hero reaches up to Tamela to help him; a feeling of emptiness freezes her from movement. The vacations, the easy life, the dreams are all gone. Her two reasons for living the life will never get out of the hell home she has made for them- this BUM took that from them. He damned them to hell and now it is her duty to return the favor. Tamela goes to offer her hand to the hungry homeless hero when it grabs on to a solid gold cross and Tamela cannot stop herself from hitting the homeless hero and hitting and hitting and he lays there in blood and pancake pieces.
Tamela steps back and disassociates herself from her hands stretching them out as though they do not belong to her body. Behind her we see a stained glass of Mary, the mother of GOD, with her arms stretched out. We see the homeless man with his fingers making a peace sign.
We see Tamela, hand-cuffed, going into a police car and the stain glass of Jesus making a peace sign lights up.
CUT TO STATION INTERRUPTION AND THE BEEPING SOUND....
Did she kill the second coming?
Acts 2:19-21 (NIV) "I will show wonders in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood and fire and billows of smoke. The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the great and glorious day of the Lord. And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."
The end
The piece was done as a one-act play where Tamela is on stage with a light above her as if she is being questioned in a police station…She tells the story sitting at a table. Wonderful piece! It was also published as a short story.
Original Tamela brings the pancake to the church, but it’s locked> Tamela goes to the side door toget in leaving the pancake. The homeless hero walking by sees the pancake and eats it . Tamela comes back and starts hitting him …passer-bys think the bum is attacking Tamela and attack him. He falls to the fence and his sleeves get stuck. The sun shadows the church cross on him and we see that he is stretched out to look like Christ on the cross.
Do because you want, not because you want something.
I got my inspiration when I lived in NYC and watched as people raced by this homeless guy who was sitting outside the subway entrance, on a subway grate trying to keep warm from the steam rising. He had a cup of hot something and was wrapped in a blanket trying to stay warm. People were racing by and he tried to stay out of their way, but they seemed determined to get in his way and remind him how unfortunate he was. Someone kicked over his hot drink and didn’t even think that he deserved an apology. I watched this wanting to yell at them, but no one stayed long to hear never-mind care. My attention was drawn away by a street preacher announcing that the second coming of Jesus was upon us! That he was living among us! I stared harder at the homeless man and I got it…He was Jesus and he came back as a homeless man. He is looking for someone to show kindness and prove that there was love left in the loveless city. I got it. I went over to him and we shared a knowing smile as I dropped some loose change I had in my pocket into his opened hat. He smiled back and then looked thought the change I dropped and picked out the pennies and handed them back to me. “I don’t take pennies” he said as I took the pennies back. I was stumped. Jesus was kind of rude to me.
I walked by the street preacher who also announced that GOD showed him the year that the world would end-2000 (this happened back in 1997). I asked how he found out and he informed me that GOD gave him a sign in his cereal. I thought for a moment and asked if he ate Cheerio’s? I mean making 2000 out of Cheerio’s isn’t very imaginative. He brushed me away saying Satan had sent me…Yeah, like he’s the first one to say that to me.
So when I got home I wanted to write about the experience and immortalize my own revelation about the inhumanity that I had experience. I worked with a girl named Tamela and she was a heavy set African American girl who was so sweet but kept going out with losers because that is all who would date her. He was so self conscience about her weight and would never go after attractive men because they would just “sleep with me, get me pregnant and leave me with supporting the boo-boo’s of my booty call!” She was probably right, hell if I had a kid for all my booty calls I would be able to start my own village. There was one moment with Tamela that always stuck out in my memory. We worked in a restaurant together, she was the hostess and I was the bartender. We were hanging at the host station when one of the under-paid, overly sarcastic waitresses came over and told us a customer wanted to know if could get a second serving because she was still hungry. Tamela just shoot back, “where does she think she is at grandma’s house?” I could not stop laughing.
When I started writing the story I knew right away I wanted it to take on the old black and white nickelodeon, “Perils of Pauline style” silent with underscorepiano music and a few written words and at the end a message.
The title “SECOND SERVING”
YOU are now in "the time of the end."
"the seventh angel is about to sound his trumpet"
Once upon a time in a city like New York City there was a neighborhood like Harlem and a single mother of two like Tamela. There were many people in this place that was like New York City especially in the neighborhood like Harlem and a single mother of two like Tamela could easily get swallowed up in such a place. A person would have to wake up fighting every day just to survive, Tamela was no exception. She considered it a victory to make it home and placing dinner on the table for her two reasons for living the life. Each day she would plunge into a hole in the ground that was like a subway entrance and escape the hole in the late evening. What went on in-between was a mystery to Tamela as well as to us. Everything evening there was a less fortunate man who looked like a homeless person. He would try to bring a smile to Tamela’s face, but she would have none of it! She had no reason to smile, nor did she think it was the place of a homeless bum to suggest it! “Get a job and leave me alone” is what went through her head. “Would that really make your life easier” he thought back. He would greet her everyday and just smile. She wasn’t enjoying this uncomfortable relationship.
While doing laundry one day her children came upon him and liked the tricks he performed. Tamela was horrified that they were near him and discouraged them from being kind to him. They wanted to give him change, but Tamela did not want them to be nice! She reluctantly gave them change and got them home safely!
The next day was no different as she exited the hell hole she saw her secret stalker waiting to make her smile. She avoided eye contact and ran into the super market to get dinner for her kids. When she exited the store she saw her secret stalker and she banged into a happy couple who thought she was drunk and left her on the sidewalk with all her groceries scattered around. It was Tamela’s secret stalker who came to her rescue. She, still avoiding his eyes, grabbed things from him and noticed her roasted chicken was out of its case. She couldn’t serve it to her children and was going to throw it out- instead she gave it to her homeless hero. He was so happy and grateful; Tamela was just disgusted and wanted to get away.
When Tamela gets into the safety of her “self made” prison she saw the hungry faces of her two reasons for living this life. It dawned on her that she had given their dinner away and she had no money! She saw the pancake mix on the kitchen table and improvised a breakfast dinner. Exhausted she saw the happy faces of the two reasons for her living this life and started to clean up. It was then that the male reason for her living this life that tugged on her shirt, holding his empty dinner plate. He wanted a second serving. Tamela scraped what was left in the bowl and managed to make a pancake. As the pancake was being created a slow discovery of shock appears on Tamela’s face. The pancake shines in GOLD and the face of Jesus Christ appears on the pancake! Standing there shocked Tamela cries out! She runs out into the apartment hallway with the frying pan banging on the neighbor’s doors. Everyone runs out into the hall and some start praying. Tamela’s best friend ushers her back into her apartment.
We see people lined up to pray at the pancake, which is now in a glass covered cake plate. The two reasons for Tamela living this life had their own pancake mix stand selling batter for five dollars a bag.
Tamela secretly had travel brochures and wish list of what to do with the money they were making. It was then that the phone rang. Tamela answers her cell to find Father O’Hara, the local priest, calling out of the blue. Seems Father O’Hara wants a cut of the profit…I mean wants to legitimize the miracle of the pancake. He makes Tamela an offer she cannot refuse.
Father O’Hara places the pancake on the altar and gets a call that Tamela is on her way for her check. He leaves the pancake uncovered. The smell lures the hungry homeless hero into the church, passes all the silent sinners praying for redemption. The hungry homeless hero takes the miracle pancake and sits on the altar to enjoy his food from GOD. The sinners see the bum eating Jesus and attack him! They are throwing him and grabbing the miracle. Father O’Hara and Tamela, holding the check, run in and try to break it up. Tamela notices the miracle pancake missing. After Father O’Hara breaks up the fight and sees the pancake scattered all over the altar floor he takes the check out of Tamela’s hand and leave. Everyone leaves and Tamela is all alone with the man that took her life away from her.
The hungry homeless hero reaches up to Tamela to help him; a feeling of emptiness freezes her from movement. The vacations, the easy life, the dreams are all gone. Her two reasons for living the life will never get out of the hell home she has made for them- this BUM took that from them. He damned them to hell and now it is her duty to return the favor. Tamela goes to offer her hand to the hungry homeless hero when it grabs on to a solid gold cross and Tamela cannot stop herself from hitting the homeless hero and hitting and hitting and he lays there in blood and pancake pieces.
Tamela steps back and disassociates herself from her hands stretching them out as though they do not belong to her body. Behind her we see a stained glass of Mary, the mother of GOD, with her arms stretched out. We see the homeless man with his fingers making a peace sign.
We see Tamela, hand-cuffed, going into a police car and the stain glass of Jesus making a peace sign lights up.
CUT TO STATION INTERRUPTION AND THE BEEPING SOUND....
Did she kill the second coming?
Acts 2:19-21 (NIV) "I will show wonders in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood and fire and billows of smoke. The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the great and glorious day of the Lord. And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."
The end
The piece was done as a one-act play where Tamela is on stage with a light above her as if she is being questioned in a police station…She tells the story sitting at a table. Wonderful piece! It was also published as a short story.
Original Tamela brings the pancake to the church, but it’s locked> Tamela goes to the side door toget in leaving the pancake. The homeless hero walking by sees the pancake and eats it . Tamela comes back and starts hitting him …passer-bys think the bum is attacking Tamela and attack him. He falls to the fence and his sleeves get stuck. The sun shadows the church cross on him and we see that he is stretched out to look like Christ on the cross.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Virginia is for lovers- not airlines
So my cousin from Oklahoma whom I sorta share the same birthday with- she was born March 28th and I was born March 29, 1960. She was born in California and I was in New York, we always felt that we would have been born the same day on some time line. But, as a child I always the younger one and she would always taunt me by saying “Respect your elders…I am your elder.” Needless to say my pay backs came when she turned thirty first, and forty and this year turning 50! I hadn’t seen my cousin since 1997 and was determined to see her. She was going to vacation in Virginia where her sister lives. My intention was to go down for a few days, but as luck would have it I had a full schedule between job interviews and work commitments. There was two days to fit it in, Monday and Tuesday- so being the me that I am I called Orbit cheap tickets on Sunday afternoon got a six o’clock flight to land in Newport News because my cousin had said it was a closer airport (She didn’t think I was serious about going down-I was and did). I arrived at 7:30 ish.
The flight down was uneventful and the anticipation of seeing my long lost twin cousin was keeping my mind occupied.So my darling 77 year old Aunt is making her famous Mac and Cheese while her 21 year old granddaughter and I are watching..As she scrapes the bowl trying to get all the macaroni's out, wipes the sweat now pouring in the macaroni, she comments how hard it is and says, "Imagine what this does to your stomach! Dinner will... be in a half hour." Her granddaughter and I look at each other and announce “We’re on diets!” I also started reading Joel Osteen’s It’s Your Turn. The book is about opening yourself to GOD’S love and not allowing stress and disappointment to discourage you from your successful God goals. I am opened to positive energy. My cousin and my aunt meet me at the airport and my twin cousin will be at the beach the next morning. That’s cool. My cousin and her husband are great and I find the ride back to their place long. I keep it to myself. At the house we stay up and chat until midnight. She has a 21 year old that will be forced to hang with me the next day.
We wake up and my aunt is put to work making macaroni and cheese- she’s like 78 and is trying to work in a kitchen that is modern and spread out, add a 70 lb. dog getting in between her legs and you have the aunt from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Stacy, my cousin’s daughter and I watch, promising each other NOT to eat the macaroni and cheese, expressions like; “Kiss it up to God,” “Three second rule” and pinkie swears not to tell anyone where the macaroni landed after the dog flip…I never said anything about writing.
We get to the beach and it seems like it’s the shadiest day of the week-surprise me, but I managed to get a shade burn. At night we laugh and spend more time taking pictures than talking. I find out that Norforlk to a closer airport and Newport News is the cheaper airport…I would have paid the extra. They are all asking me to stay longer, but I have my own theory- see if I stayed a week they would be pushing me out the door to leave, staying a day has them begging me to stay!
The next day I arrive at the airport at 6:30 am. My cousin dropped me off on his way to work. My flight is at 7:50 am. THANK GOD FOR JOEL OSTEEN! I start reading my inspiration book and it’s all about delays in life…We board the plane and are on time until….We are taxiing around the airfield and called back to our gate. It seems a storm and traffic back up caused LaGuardia to refuse to allow us to take off until 9:45. We were supposed to land at 9:05 am. I reread Joel’s chapter and understand that God has a reason for this delay…What could it be? There is an announcement…Flight cancelled! Why???? I want to flip out and yell and act like a lunatic, but thanks to Joel, I think why?
Then they announce that we can take a flight to Indianapolis to get a flight to LaGuardia. That makes no sense to go three fours out of our way to go 53 minutes away! I text my friend when I land in Indianapolis. He tells me to look for Mary Tyler Moore’s hat! ?? Mary came from Minneapolis not Indianapolis…no one comes from Indianapolis and there is a reason… their state motto is “cow tipping is fun pa.” That is what the tee shirt in the gift store said. I went a little less tacky and bought a “hoosier momma?” tee- which I just noticed is woman’s med. So is the continuing saga of my life. I guess the tee shirt is how they get tourist to visit or just book a flight with orbiz and you will end up there.
Now I tell GOD, get me to my night job by 6pm and I will believe in all that Joel teaches-does not look good for God. We land in LaGuardia at 4:20 pm. I get to the curb and am told the only way to get to Port Authority is to take a bus- subways are now close to airport. God is in trouble, traffic in midtown AND we have to stop at Penn station first. I get there in record time and after a few kick starts get on the bus to Hackensack, where my night job is, before 5 pm. Alas, Tunnel traffic---amazingly the traffic was light and I get to my night job by 6:02pm. It wasn’t 6 , but pretty close.
I just want to know why an airline can sell you a ticket for a 52 minute flight taking off at 8am and have it postponed until 10am then cancel it and make you take a flight to Indiana to get the plane that you were supposed to have at 8am...and have you arrive at 4:20 PM...and then tell you to have a nice day!!! HELLOOOOO the day is over!
Sunday, July 4, 2010
manners
Whatever happened to manners? Is it an old-fashion concept? Are parents teaching children to have manners or just to be mean? I was in a Disney store and a little girl banged her stroller into a 70 year old woman, the woman fell over. The mother grabbed the stroller and took off. She didn't apologize or help the lady up, just took off. I'm thinking you are in a Disney Store and you act that way? I get involved because this old lady is reaching up for help and I am the only one around to help her. I almost fling her across the store because I hoist her up not realizing she may weigh only 90 lbs at the most. She in turn gets up and walks away. No thank-you. I am dumb founded. Whatever happened to manners?
An African American woman swears she will not get a teaching job in a town that she likes because she is black and the town is white. She makes this case because she was interviewed by them and they did not hire her. I didn't even get an interview, but never mind that; she is sitting in class with her BAREFEET on the chair next to her and sipping on a big gulp while gnawing on Twizzlers and offering me any.
She has on a sequin tube top and her 7 year old daughter is walking the halls because she couldn't get a babysitter. I tell her that she should go to an inner city school where frustrated white woman are teaching African American children that they should stay where they are and not to try and compete in the white man's world.
Honest to God I was subbing in this school where a 24 ish young white girl was screaming at these Kindergarten kids to stay in line. She told me that it angers her that these kids don't listen and who knows what kind of family life they come from, if they even have a family. I told her that she should rethink her career.
Needless to say I was never called to sub in that school again.
My classmate informs me that she only wants to teach in the town that she lives in. I have my cheerleading speech on what a great gift it is to teach a child and how rewarding the profession is, she cuts me off by calling me a racist. "I can only teach blacks kids?" "No I just meant by being a teacher in a child’s eye you are a success and these children will learn that they can succeed no matter what they look like." I wonder what kind of manners she is teaching her child that is wandering the hallway.
When I was a waiter, one of the bus boys informed a very famous movie star- Think Pretty Woman- "We ain't got no bread. " The star corrected him by saying, "You do not have any bread." The busboy comes cursing into the kitchen about how his people were going to take over America. I informed him we were the United States of America, not America. The continent is North America; Canada is considered America as is Mexico.
The Americas, also known as America, are the lands of the western hemisphere, composed of numerous entities and regions variably defined by geography, politics, and culture.
The Americas are frequently reckoned to comprise two separate continents (North America and South America), especially in English-speaking nations. The Americas may also be reckoned to comprise a single continent (named America), particularly in Latin America and in some European nations. ****Wikipedia
I asked why would he want to take over the US? Why not take over the country you came from? I am called a racist.
I wonder what manners he is teaching his child, who is going to have to struggle learning English because his father is too angry to learn the language himself?
Are we so Politically Correct conscience that we forgot how to be human? Does holding the door for someone have an ethnic attachment? Does saying "excuse me" offend some culture? Does "love thy neighbor as thyself" have to apply only to Catholics?
In a time when Global Warming has become more a reality can we really afford to find reasons to separate as a society? Shouldn't we be coming together and working on saving the earth that we all have to share. Maybe the earth realizes we will never come together and feels there is nothing worth saving.
But even GOD told Saul find five good hearts and I will spare the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. Maybe we can find five good cultures that will work together and save the rest....Maybe, but first you have to ask and remember to bring your best manners to the table.
An African American woman swears she will not get a teaching job in a town that she likes because she is black and the town is white. She makes this case because she was interviewed by them and they did not hire her. I didn't even get an interview, but never mind that; she is sitting in class with her BAREFEET on the chair next to her and sipping on a big gulp while gnawing on Twizzlers and offering me any.
She has on a sequin tube top and her 7 year old daughter is walking the halls because she couldn't get a babysitter. I tell her that she should go to an inner city school where frustrated white woman are teaching African American children that they should stay where they are and not to try and compete in the white man's world.
Honest to God I was subbing in this school where a 24 ish young white girl was screaming at these Kindergarten kids to stay in line. She told me that it angers her that these kids don't listen and who knows what kind of family life they come from, if they even have a family. I told her that she should rethink her career.
Needless to say I was never called to sub in that school again.
My classmate informs me that she only wants to teach in the town that she lives in. I have my cheerleading speech on what a great gift it is to teach a child and how rewarding the profession is, she cuts me off by calling me a racist. "I can only teach blacks kids?" "No I just meant by being a teacher in a child’s eye you are a success and these children will learn that they can succeed no matter what they look like." I wonder what kind of manners she is teaching her child that is wandering the hallway.
When I was a waiter, one of the bus boys informed a very famous movie star- Think Pretty Woman- "We ain't got no bread. " The star corrected him by saying, "You do not have any bread." The busboy comes cursing into the kitchen about how his people were going to take over America. I informed him we were the United States of America, not America. The continent is North America; Canada is considered America as is Mexico.
The Americas, also known as America, are the lands of the western hemisphere, composed of numerous entities and regions variably defined by geography, politics, and culture.
The Americas are frequently reckoned to comprise two separate continents (North America and South America), especially in English-speaking nations. The Americas may also be reckoned to comprise a single continent (named America), particularly in Latin America and in some European nations. ****Wikipedia
I asked why would he want to take over the US? Why not take over the country you came from? I am called a racist.
I wonder what manners he is teaching his child, who is going to have to struggle learning English because his father is too angry to learn the language himself?
Are we so Politically Correct conscience that we forgot how to be human? Does holding the door for someone have an ethnic attachment? Does saying "excuse me" offend some culture? Does "love thy neighbor as thyself" have to apply only to Catholics?
In a time when Global Warming has become more a reality can we really afford to find reasons to separate as a society? Shouldn't we be coming together and working on saving the earth that we all have to share. Maybe the earth realizes we will never come together and feels there is nothing worth saving.
But even GOD told Saul find five good hearts and I will spare the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. Maybe we can find five good cultures that will work together and save the rest....Maybe, but first you have to ask and remember to bring your best manners to the table.
Friday, May 7, 2010
a mothers love
A Mother’s Love
By Eddy Russini
After surviving a quadruple by-pass operation, my mother was released from the hospital. For unknown reasons, I decided to stay over one night soon after. She was still sleeping in the living on a hospital bed, I slept on the couch. I was awakened by the silence of her breathing. I started to perform CPR and when my father came down from their bedroom to take over, I called 411. When the information lady got on the phone, I realized it was 911 that I was suppose to call. She was very helpful and connected me with the right number. My dad, drained from the moment, stepped outside to wait for the ambulance. I continued the CPR. I begged my mother not to leave me.
I found it spiritually poetic that I was able to give life back to the woman who gave me life.
My mother laid in a coma for thirty days. Each day complications grew and the nurses and doctors admired her strength, but couldn’t understand it. I could. I knew her. She was fighting for me. The woman who gave me life wouldn’t leave unless I gave her permission.
Her doctor heard me begging her not to leave me. He took me aside and explained how she’d never be the same. Her age and diabetes, along with the fact that she was denied air for so long could effect her brain. Basically, he was telling me that she would be better off dead. I asked the doctor, "How important is life if someone is better off dead?" He answered, "It’s not how long you live life that’s important, it’s what you do with your life that counts."
I thought, "Oh, great. My mothers doctor quotes fortune cookies."
I returned to my mother’s side and held her hand. The warmth of her hand was enough to comfort me. It was just a warm hand, but it was enough. It’s funny how the silliest memories find you when you least expect it. That night at the hospital I remember thinking how she gave the best advice while she would knit. I remembered complaining to her about how I hated bartending and wanted to concentrate on my writing. Without missing a stitch, she replied, "I didn’t go through 19 hours of labor for you to be miserable. Do what makes you happy and I’ll always be there for you." She would always be there for me. It was that memory that made me realize I had to let go of her warm hand. I prayed that I would always remember the warmth of her hand. I wanted to just bottle that moment and always have it with me. I leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Let the angels guide you." I left for work and she left with the angels.
She didn’t leave me, she listened to me.
When the reality that my mother followed the angels found me, my mind went blank. I didn’t tell anyone because I thought if I didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be real. I didn’t want to go to the wake. I just wanted to hide, my sisters found me and convinced me that I had to go. When I got there I swore everyone was staring at me. I didn't want this, I just wanted my mother.I begged my mother to be with me.
All of a sudden this bingo buddy of my mother’s grabs me and says in a gravelly voice, "Your mother loved you. All she spoke about was her handsome son. She suffered a lot and she’s not suffering anymore." As I turned to this lady, I noticed she has a tattoo on her shoulder. "Born To Play Bingo." But, she’s in her 80’s so when she puts her arm down it says, "orn ay go." I start to laugh and I can’t stop laughing and everyone thinks I’m crying. The tattoo lady grabs me and says, "Let it out sweetie, it’s ok."
I’m trying to say, "I’m laughing at your tattoo.", but all that comes out is "tattoo, tattoo." and I am bending over laughing.The lady with the tattoo thinks I am in pain and runs out of the funeral room screaming, "Jesus Christ! he's having a heart attack!" When I calm down I step outside for air and see her smoking and over hear her saying, "Who the hell is tattoo?" A moment sent by my mother.
They say a mother’s love is the connection between heaven and earth and I believe that is true because where I used to say, "Oh, God help me," I now say, "Oh, Mom help me," and she does.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Coming back
As I sit here in the airport I reflect on the last few days in Las Vegas. I can still hear the annoying, seductive sound of those one-armed computerized bandits calling to my addictions, but I have learned to ignore them. Slot machines in an airport is a little extreme even for an addict, and I'm not really even a real addict. I just do it if it's there but that is denial so maybe I am and just in denial. My heart is looking out at the beautiful mountain scenery; some are snow capped and some are dry and weathered indented. I love the idea that the Grand Canyon stated as a river. The sights have a definite edge over NYC, never mind Dumont, New Jersey.
I had such a great time in Vegas, even if it was a nightmare getting there. I refuse to focus on the bad- After landing in Vegas it took one hour to get to a hotel that I could see from the airport. Then the hotel gave my room away and "up-graded me to a room with a view...They have a vicious sense of humor. I posted the view.
Needless to say going out was not an option. I just wanted sleep. I woke the next morning with a happy reframe. I was determined to be happy and what better way to be happy on Easter Sunday than to go to church...Do you know how hard it is to find a church in Sin City...I walked up and down the strip. I did see a mother with a beer in her hand walk out of a CVS with three store bought Easter Baskets. When ever I see things like that I am happy that my parents were old-fashion and traditional with their values.
Instead of a church I found a wedding chapel and faked a mass...Thank goodness I have a good memory for rituals and was really proud of how much I remembered- replacing the body and blood of Christ was a little hard to substitute, but in hind sight do you really want to eat someone's body and blood? I just grabbed a red life saver.
My friend, Casper Sesto, picked me up at my hotel and we went to brunch at a casino near his home. I got to see his BEAUTIFUL home and a different way of living. I found it funny that they had marshmellow peeks on the buffet table...lol.
Later in the casino they had Playboy Bunnies handing out chocolate eggs, because "Everyone should have chocolate on Easter." I was kinda missing my family. Another friend of mine lives out in Las Vegas, Kristopher McDowell. I know Kris from the old theater days, the days when we were careless and young - thank god we aged well! Kris and his partner hosted a Easter get-together and many East Coast Theater peopler were there. It was like an old home week reunion. I got to see Keith Thompson and his partner, Phillip Officier and a few new friends. All in all it was a wonderful Easter after all. Phillip, Keith's partner played the piano and wowed us all! All the warmth and memories of good times were brought back to me and my heart was on cloud nine all afternoon.
I ended up at my hotel room at 5:00 and was told about Bingo at one of these night clubs. I went there and found, instead of Bingo, line dancing. It was quite the sight.I fell asleep that night wrapped in a bundle of sweeet memories and dreams.
I had such a great time in Vegas, even if it was a nightmare getting there. I refuse to focus on the bad- After landing in Vegas it took one hour to get to a hotel that I could see from the airport. Then the hotel gave my room away and "up-graded me to a room with a view...They have a vicious sense of humor. I posted the view.
Needless to say going out was not an option. I just wanted sleep. I woke the next morning with a happy reframe. I was determined to be happy and what better way to be happy on Easter Sunday than to go to church...Do you know how hard it is to find a church in Sin City...I walked up and down the strip. I did see a mother with a beer in her hand walk out of a CVS with three store bought Easter Baskets. When ever I see things like that I am happy that my parents were old-fashion and traditional with their values.
Instead of a church I found a wedding chapel and faked a mass...Thank goodness I have a good memory for rituals and was really proud of how much I remembered- replacing the body and blood of Christ was a little hard to substitute, but in hind sight do you really want to eat someone's body and blood? I just grabbed a red life saver.
My friend, Casper Sesto, picked me up at my hotel and we went to brunch at a casino near his home. I got to see his BEAUTIFUL home and a different way of living. I found it funny that they had marshmellow peeks on the buffet table...lol.
Later in the casino they had Playboy Bunnies handing out chocolate eggs, because "Everyone should have chocolate on Easter." I was kinda missing my family. Another friend of mine lives out in Las Vegas, Kristopher McDowell. I know Kris from the old theater days, the days when we were careless and young - thank god we aged well! Kris and his partner hosted a Easter get-together and many East Coast Theater peopler were there. It was like an old home week reunion. I got to see Keith Thompson and his partner, Phillip Officier and a few new friends. All in all it was a wonderful Easter after all. Phillip, Keith's partner played the piano and wowed us all! All the warmth and memories of good times were brought back to me and my heart was on cloud nine all afternoon.
I ended up at my hotel room at 5:00 and was told about Bingo at one of these night clubs. I went there and found, instead of Bingo, line dancing. It was quite the sight.I fell asleep that night wrapped in a bundle of sweeet memories and dreams.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
My Trip to Vegas
I used to think anyone with a blog was a self-centered egomaniac so being one I figured I should have a blog so everyone can read about an interesting life!
Actually my life is not interesting, quite the opposite, but even lonely losers deserve to be heard from, right?
So where do I begin? The beginning would be a good place, but just turning fifty made me realized I forgot a lot. I think I will just start backwards. So let me start with my recent trip to Las Vegas.
I haven't had a vacation in years and have decided to combine a vacation with a work trip. I left the bar business to pursue a career as a teacher. I had an epiphany after 9/11 and decided to "ride into hell for a heavenly cause!" (stealing the quote from the song "The Impossible Dream")I enrolled into collage to become a case worker and save children. After four years of school and graduating, I realized I didn't have the stomach to march into houses and take children, never mind hell. I tried a few different career moves before settling into a teaching career. When I teach I feel one with the universe. I am making that difference I so wanted to do for so many years!
Living in New Jersey can be hard and expensive so when my friend Casper planted the seed of the joys of living in Las Vegas, I jumped on board. He is an elementary school counselor and suggested I send a resume, which I did, this was before the budget cuts. Casper is a good egg and suggested I go out for myself. I set it up for Spring Break. I booked it through Priceline....and this is the story of my flight:
I have the most miserable, aged flight attendants that are working in the airlines! They have these stoic stone faces and speak emotionlessly. First class is so worth the money. I'm flying back on Midwest- if anyone knows anyone...
People are gross when they eat- New rule if you are ugly you should not eat in public-
I am in hell!
I have no fear of crashing just living with the memories of this flight!
This one flight attendant is oddly fascinating- he has a turtle neck with his ID chain with a salt and pepper color wig on. He has the botox forehead, but the wrinkle marks are still vi sable.
I turn on the TV and I see "Design to Sell" I figure it's worth the price of head phones. I ask the salt and pepper flight attendant for a set of headsets. "One moment" he says as he brushes by me and starts selling them in the front...I am row 37. He could just let me have the head set. By the time he gets to me the show is over and so is my desire for the head sets. "I thought you wanted a pair?!" HE SNAPS AT ME! I shoot back, "The show is over, like your career."
The food and beverage cart comes out- YES! A BEER! -
What ever happened to giving a meal with your flight? The woman flight attendant tells me of the great salad they have-my mouth waters only to find out the fat family in front of me took the last ones! Besides the fact I didn't know that airlines could sell tickets to whales, they have to decide to diet on my flight!"We're watching our weight." So am I- I am watching it bounce from one side of the plane to the other. I am dying for a beer until "old salt head" informs me the beer is warm.
Yeah I got a real bargain!
What ever happened to the "friendly skies?"
I ask for water and they give me a cup of aqua plus -generic h2o-This is DELTA and they cannot afford to give you a bottle of Poland Springs, which is still s step down from Evian.
FIRST CLASS staff is so friendly and nice. Coach is just what you expect- I have one hour and coach is just what you would expect.
Trust me you get what you pay for-unfortunately these workers don't realize they are the bottom of the barrel and they now work for priceline.com mentality people.
I press the service bell and wait....and wait ...and I find out my connecting flight is across the airport in Salt Lake City! I tell them I have a friend stopping by to meet with me at the airport.
I cannot wait until this flight is a faded memory- I guess I will have to live to be 100. Wyoming has a town call bill, and one called Daniel, and Kirby, Big Sandy and Morton-sounds like the Mickey Mouse Club role call...I don't know why I find that interesting to write about, it must be the altitude.
This guy just took his wife's salad out of her trash bag and finish eating it. GROSS! The guy behind me is hoc-pheliming! A mother decides the aisle is her daughters runway and walks up and down with her. This one flight attendant is watching me write so I tell him I work for an on-line travel agency and I'm writing a review of my experience- he is nice to me.
A WWII, American Red Cross jacket wearing vet just fell in my lap-literally! Why? God why?
First class just got their dessert, I am still picking peanuts from between my teeth (my floss is in my over head) the salt/pepper flight attendant suggest I use a piece of cardboard.
First class sucks! The flight attendants are probably flossing their teeth for them! I understand the Titanic so much clearer now.
Now they are trying to sell the left overs-peanut M&M's and broken Pringles, they open the First Class curtain and I can smell the complimentary red velvet cake in First Class- How cruel!
Ha! HA! The man who ate his wife's salad grabbed two soda's and they spilled on him! KARMA...
Oh! Hell! His seat is wet so they sit him next to me!
I hate Karma!
He is trying to read what I am writing - You have a piece of lettuce in your beard- (he reads it)
He is trying to tongue eat it! GROSS!!!!
38 more minutes!
WHY!!! I'm a good person, maybe I'm not...I am a teacher and I am hoping the little runway girl falls flat on her face!
We arrive early! That GOD!!!! I met my friend who I haven't seen in seven years and I forget about the most miserable trip on earth! That's what friends are for!
Actually my life is not interesting, quite the opposite, but even lonely losers deserve to be heard from, right?
So where do I begin? The beginning would be a good place, but just turning fifty made me realized I forgot a lot. I think I will just start backwards. So let me start with my recent trip to Las Vegas.
I haven't had a vacation in years and have decided to combine a vacation with a work trip. I left the bar business to pursue a career as a teacher. I had an epiphany after 9/11 and decided to "ride into hell for a heavenly cause!" (stealing the quote from the song "The Impossible Dream")I enrolled into collage to become a case worker and save children. After four years of school and graduating, I realized I didn't have the stomach to march into houses and take children, never mind hell. I tried a few different career moves before settling into a teaching career. When I teach I feel one with the universe. I am making that difference I so wanted to do for so many years!
Living in New Jersey can be hard and expensive so when my friend Casper planted the seed of the joys of living in Las Vegas, I jumped on board. He is an elementary school counselor and suggested I send a resume, which I did, this was before the budget cuts. Casper is a good egg and suggested I go out for myself. I set it up for Spring Break. I booked it through Priceline....and this is the story of my flight:
I have the most miserable, aged flight attendants that are working in the airlines! They have these stoic stone faces and speak emotionlessly. First class is so worth the money. I'm flying back on Midwest- if anyone knows anyone...
People are gross when they eat- New rule if you are ugly you should not eat in public-
I am in hell!
I have no fear of crashing just living with the memories of this flight!
This one flight attendant is oddly fascinating- he has a turtle neck with his ID chain with a salt and pepper color wig on. He has the botox forehead, but the wrinkle marks are still vi sable.
I turn on the TV and I see "Design to Sell" I figure it's worth the price of head phones. I ask the salt and pepper flight attendant for a set of headsets. "One moment" he says as he brushes by me and starts selling them in the front...I am row 37. He could just let me have the head set. By the time he gets to me the show is over and so is my desire for the head sets. "I thought you wanted a pair?!" HE SNAPS AT ME! I shoot back, "The show is over, like your career."
The food and beverage cart comes out- YES! A BEER! -
What ever happened to giving a meal with your flight? The woman flight attendant tells me of the great salad they have-my mouth waters only to find out the fat family in front of me took the last ones! Besides the fact I didn't know that airlines could sell tickets to whales, they have to decide to diet on my flight!"We're watching our weight." So am I- I am watching it bounce from one side of the plane to the other. I am dying for a beer until "old salt head" informs me the beer is warm.
Yeah I got a real bargain!
What ever happened to the "friendly skies?"
I ask for water and they give me a cup of aqua plus -generic h2o-This is DELTA and they cannot afford to give you a bottle of Poland Springs, which is still s step down from Evian.
FIRST CLASS staff is so friendly and nice. Coach is just what you expect- I have one hour and coach is just what you would expect.
Trust me you get what you pay for-unfortunately these workers don't realize they are the bottom of the barrel and they now work for priceline.com mentality people.
I press the service bell and wait....and wait ...and I find out my connecting flight is across the airport in Salt Lake City! I tell them I have a friend stopping by to meet with me at the airport.
I cannot wait until this flight is a faded memory- I guess I will have to live to be 100. Wyoming has a town call bill, and one called Daniel, and Kirby, Big Sandy and Morton-sounds like the Mickey Mouse Club role call...I don't know why I find that interesting to write about, it must be the altitude.
This guy just took his wife's salad out of her trash bag and finish eating it. GROSS! The guy behind me is hoc-pheliming! A mother decides the aisle is her daughters runway and walks up and down with her. This one flight attendant is watching me write so I tell him I work for an on-line travel agency and I'm writing a review of my experience- he is nice to me.
A WWII, American Red Cross jacket wearing vet just fell in my lap-literally! Why? God why?
First class just got their dessert, I am still picking peanuts from between my teeth (my floss is in my over head) the salt/pepper flight attendant suggest I use a piece of cardboard.
First class sucks! The flight attendants are probably flossing their teeth for them! I understand the Titanic so much clearer now.
Now they are trying to sell the left overs-peanut M&M's and broken Pringles, they open the First Class curtain and I can smell the complimentary red velvet cake in First Class- How cruel!
Ha! HA! The man who ate his wife's salad grabbed two soda's and they spilled on him! KARMA...
Oh! Hell! His seat is wet so they sit him next to me!
I hate Karma!
He is trying to read what I am writing - You have a piece of lettuce in your beard- (he reads it)
He is trying to tongue eat it! GROSS!!!!
38 more minutes!
WHY!!! I'm a good person, maybe I'm not...I am a teacher and I am hoping the little runway girl falls flat on her face!
We arrive early! That GOD!!!! I met my friend who I haven't seen in seven years and I forget about the most miserable trip on earth! That's what friends are for!
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