Idioms and Baby Powder

I think all families – or circles of friends – have an idiomatic fingerprint. Catch phrases in my home included a saying for high praise (“Not too shabby”), an expression to describe a long, hard day (“I am emotionally spent”) and even one for denying that one was asleep (“I was just resting my eyes”).

One that has made its rounds among a circle of friends defines severe discontent, partial loathing, heavy disappointment or even simple irritation. It’s simple and a bit vulgar, yet it conveys a clear message. When upset or angry with a person, place or life in general, we claim “a case of the ass.” Usage can vary (“I have a case of the ass” “He just has a case of the ass” “She’s starting to get a case of the ass”) but the message is elegantly clear. I’m sure that derivatives include references to chaffing, grinding, or simply “pain in the.”

For the last month or so, I’ve had a case with respect to the several years’ favored watering hole (where I met Howard and a whole cast of admirable characters). The management was summarily dismissed and favored bartenders were treated with disrespect – one even shown the door. The place hasn’t been updated in years; the parking lot is a war zone of potholes, the menu tired and the food quality lacking. We gathered there because of the people: managers and servers who knew your name and your “usual,” a miscellany of good folks who shared a true, keen respect and genuine friendship.

The ownership decided that it was going to clean house (I assure you, only figuratively!) and improve their margins. No argument there – run your business how you wish to run your business. Suddenly, happy hour appetizers were portioned down, drinks were priced $2 – 3 more than previous levels, and threats were levied at the staff in place of sound management (let alone leadership).

The parking lot remains scarred, the receding snow reveals landscaping full of litter, dust layers continue to accumulate. The food is unappealing and the new managers have made no attempt to introduce themselves to us “regulars.”

I’ve voted with my feet – I’m patronizing other restaurants that are far better run. While I miss “the gang” I don’t care to enable bad business practices.

Today, Thursday, was my friend R______’s typical evening shift behind the bar. I hadn’t seen her in some time and thought I’d stop quickly to visit, do a quick crossword and nurse a draft of ale (I can’t justify paying $9 for a drink in a $5 dollar bar). Upon arrival, she gave me a warm hello and a hug and quickly went to the far end of the bar.

She returned and produced an envelope marked “Pete” and handed it to me. I must have twisted my face into the international “what the heck is this” position. I opened it and she said that it was an invitation for a party happening that very moment in the restaurant’s private dining room. I was still confused and she said it’s for Dan’s 80th birthday.

“Go check it out,” she urged.

Wow. There were about 30 people gathered and when I entered, both Dan and his wife brightened like that first spring sun. “We didn’t know if you were coming!”

I explained that I hadn’t been in the restaurant for a month or so (leaving out all chaffing references) – the invitation left for me was two weeks in the waiting . . . had I not stopped, I would have missed the entire gathering.

Over the next hour, Dan’s children entertained us with harmonies and a guitar; stories were traded about how Dan and his wife (fiancée at the time) survived his being stationed in in Southeast Asia and she teaching in the Philippines; and we shared how we all met.

Dan and I met about 5-6 years ago – at the bar – when he suddenly began choking and I helped him regain his breath. He and his wife claimed that I saved his life – I know I helped him, but I don’t think he was in full respiratory arrest. Nonetheless, getting hugs from him, his wife and his children was just about the nicest thing that could happen this week.

I’m not ready to disavow my “case” but I do begrudgingly value the therapeutic talcum of reunions and friendship.




Photo reported to be in the public domain and available HERE

Happy St. Valentine's Day!

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Super Bowl

Nielsen reports that Super Bowl 2014 was the most watched game ever with 111.5 million viewers. This record edges out the former record set by the 2011 game (Packers beat the Steelers 31-25) that reached 111.3 million viewers. It’s argued that these figures are low as many viewers gather with friends to watch, nosh, and complete betting grids in hope of winning a quarter or two (football periods, not coins!).

Apparently, Peyton and Russell paled in comparison to Bruno who managed 115.3 million viewers for his halftime extravaganza. Go figure.

I gathered with friends to watch the big game and, to be honest, we had less interest in the contest’s outcome than we had in our menu. Much over thinking finally spawned a spread that included “build-your-own” shrimp cocktail with four choices of sauces and four available mix-ins (40,312 possible combinations – if I did my math right), two options of bleu cheese served on sliced apple, homemade mac-n-cheese, edamame hummus, a couple of caviar options and a spiral-sliced ham with assorted rolls. If that seems like too much food for the few of us gathered, you are absolutely correct – especially as more snacks arrived as others joined the fun.

Don't be too impressed, $6.59 caviar, egg, onion, cream cheese - but tasty!

We amazed at the Bronco meltdown, bemoaned what were deemed less creative commercials than usual (but did cheer an enunciating Bob Dillon pitching Chrysler), and laughed at the generational gap made oh-so-clear by the halftime entertainment. A good evening.

Tonight offered a second good evening. I dropped in on my pal Howard and found him in a happy mood and with more of a confident step. Conversation included our current reads, his most recent visits with his pastor, my latest activities and, for some unknown reason, the growth of technology during our lives.

I admitted that though born in the age of technology, I was still old enough that color television’s arrival was a big deal. Howard recalled a childhood at the movie theaters and huddled around the radio. I asked him when he first encountered television. “I arrived back from Germany (Howard served two enlistments in the United States Air Force – entering the European Theater only after the cessation of hostilities on the Continent) and got leave in New York City,” he began. “Four of us went to the bar and there was the first television any of us ever saw – sometime around 1948 – it was probably an eight-inch screen and the four of us were cheek-to-cheek in awe of this miracle.”

He couldn’t recall what the programming was that evening, but did recount how his father-in-law gave him and his new bride the father-in-law’s television (“A six-inch screen,” laughed Howard) upon their marriage. He also noted that his wife’s dad bought a new one for himself that day!

We talked of my involvement with the University of Michigan’s Men’s Glee Club and my recent hosting of the men for brunch. I told him the menu and that the clubbers did the final assembly of the egg casserole. This sparked Howard into sharing his egg casserole recipe that he makes annually for his church – he’s a gem.

Howard had lentil soup on the stove and offered me a bowl with a slice of bread. We shared dinner, some more stories and I thanked him for his hospitality. He thanked me for sharing a meal with him and again bade me welcome for future visits.

He seemed well and that makes me happy.

Super Bowl viewership statistics thanks to:

http://www.eonline.com/news/506614/super-bowl-2014-ratings-how-many-people-tuned-in-to-see-the-seahawks-broncos-blowout