?`s and ANNEswers

Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Tequila Mockingbird

No, that’s not a typo. It’s the title of a little book I just ran across, and it made my day. The tagline under the title reads: “Cocktails with a Literary Twist.”

I can’t improve on the description I found in the Bas Bleu catalog, so I’ll reproduce it here.

Can I interest you in a Gin Eyre? How about a Rum of One’s Own? Perhaps you’d like a Pitcher of Dorian Grey Goose for the table? 

Cocktail hour just got literary! This irreverently funny book features sixty-five (mostly) delicious drink recipes inspired by (mostly) classic works of literature. For each recipe/book, Tim Federele offers dry, pithy commentary on the work and how it’s embodied in the cocktail. You’ll even find drinks of the nonalcoholic variety (The Wonderful Blizzard of Oz, anyone?) and book-related bar snacks (Prawn Quixote, for example). 

An essential resource for book clubs, Tequila Mockingbird is a perfect gift for English-major types, especially those for whom happy hour means a glass in one hand and a novel in the other. 

Having just attended my book club’s monthly meeting this morning – the selection was The Night Circus — I’m wondering if I should suggest we read this in the near future.

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Swimming

I try to swim two to four times a week at the local health club.  It’s always a challenge, not because I don’t have the time but because the time I have doesn’t always coincide with the time available at the pool.

I know this sounds convoluted.  But as a lap swimmer, I have to sign up for a certain time slot.  (It’s like making any other appointment:  the doctor, the dentist, the hair staylist.)  And I get to swim for thirty minutes, because some other lapper has signed up for the time slot after mine.

I really do treat the half hour appointment as just that.  I put it in my calendar and I prep my gear the night before. I arrive early to shower and be ready to jump in the pool.  And . . . I’m always happy when the person after me doesn’t’ show up, because this means I can keep swimming.

All this structure makes me think that my community needs more swimming pools.  The one I frequent also has swim teams, water aerobics, lessons for students of all ages, and family night.  So it makes it more difficult for lappers to reserve a lap lane for thirty minutes when there are so many blackout times as they compete with the other water activities.

I don’t have a solution, other than hoping the club I attend will see the need and somehow in the future plan for a second pool.  Otherwise, the situation will deteriorate, and perhaps I shall forego swimming.  It’s not the solution I’d choose.

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So Sorry . . .

I’m still disputing an airline charge with Delta Airlines.  On June 7, this will have taken a month; and we’re probably nowhere near a resolution any more than we were at the beginning of  May.

One thing is for certain, however.  Delta Airlines has succumbed to the prevailing attitude that saying “Sorry” excuses the offender from any effort to really resolve the problem. It’s becoming endemic in our society.

Remember Arnold Schwarzeneger, who committed adultery with his family maid, bore a child, and kept it a secret for over a decade.  When he was found out, he made the perfunctory apology and then wrote a book about it.  And what about the current candidate for mayor of New York City?  For days, Anthony Weiner denied he’d done anything wrong, but ultimately acknowledged he’d sent sexually explicit messages and photos to various women while at the same time marrying Huma Abedin.  Eventually Weiner vetted himself by issuing appologies and resigning from Congress in 2011.  Now, two years later he wants to run the Big Apple.

It may be a stretch but I lump Delta with these transgressors; it has repeatedly apologized to me but done nothing to restore my confidence.  In fact, the last in a long line of email correspondence has Delta’s Coordinator of Corporate Customer Care (actual name withheld) whining that “your disappointment with our service has been met with significant gestures of apology.”

Yes, that’s true. But, just as I wouldn’t vote for Arnold or Anthony, I won’t support Delta because I don’t see any change in unacceptable behavior.

At the risk of whining myself, apologies do not equal solutions.

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Bronner’s

This is the last day of May, and to salute the month my blog is about Bronner’s CHRISTmas Store in Frankenmuth, MI.  That’s how the company spells it – with capitals for the first six letters.

I’d heard about Bronner’s for years, but I didn’t really know what to expect.  Here’s the truth:  Bronner’s is the largest retail Christmas store in the world, measuring about 1 ¾ football fields  or 7.35 acres in size.  That’s a lot of tinsel!  It’s also a lot of ornaments, wreathes, collectibles, stockings, trees, and nativity scenes.  For a complete rundown, visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bronner’s_Christmas_Wonderland.

As someone who has grown to dislike the extreme commercialism of Christmas, I expected Bronner’s to be over-the-top in crass, cheap products and pushy salespeople.  I admit the store is over-the-top in many ways, but none were crass.  The aisles were wide and clean; the displays were tasteful; the staff was helpful without being intrusive. It was pleasant.

In fact, I came away with the impression that the real meaning of Christmas and Bronner’s CHRISTmas Store have formed a mutual relationship to the benefit of both.  Founder Wally Bronner, who died in 2008, acknowledges the religious aspect of the holiday with a nativity scene under every decorated tree in the store.  There are plenty of them. Additionally, his company built a lovely chapel in the grounds to salute the hymn, “Silent Night.”  There isn’t an ornament or a stocking in it.

Given that Bronner’s is about selling Christmas products all year around, I must say I came away having enjoyed an almost spiritual experience.

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Memorial Day, 2013

It was on Memorial Day nine years ago that I wrote my first blog. I reread it recently and still think the idea of visiting the graves of soldiers on this day is a good one.  Today, however, we didn’t make it because of rain.

I guess you could call us wimps, since I’m sure many soldiers crouched in foxholes as they were drenched by rain.  I’m sure others took their last breath in a downpour. And I’d bet that families laid their spouses, sons, and daughters to rest in gentle showers and raging storms.

So, to feel less wimpy, I’m saluting Willie Mc Cord one more time.

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Chicken

I’ve been thinking a lot about chicken this Memorial Day Weekend.  I love it. Fried, baked, winged, pied, grilled, sliced, casseroled, stuffed. It’s my go-to comfort food. In the past four days, I’ve eaten it three times.

My chicken holiday began at KFC with an order of chicken strips.  KFC has the best chicken strips in my opinion of any chain restaurant because they are actually pieces of white meat and not something that resembles ground chicken made into a strip.

For the uninformed, strips are different from wings.  The former has no bones, while the latter does. We have actually been to the Anchor Bar in Buffalo, NY where — tradition has it – the very first wings were served.  They were delicious.

I mention wings since a couple nights ago, in Allen Park, MI that’s what I ordered for dinner. They were good – big, juicy, mildly spicy, and plentiful.  In fact, so plentiful I ordered a box for those I couldn’t eat and stored them in the motel room’s mini-fridge. They weren’t bad the next morning for breakfast.

Yesterday, friends George and Noreen spent the day with Earl and me in Frankenmuth, MI.  Besides being known as the home of the world’s largest Christmas shop (That’s another blog), it’s also the home of two competing restaurants whose menus revolve around fried chicken served family style.

Before deciding where to eat we studied the opposing menus and finally chose to dine at Zehnder’s instead of the Bavarian Inn.  First we had chicken noodle soup, various breads, liver pate, cottage cheese, coleslaw, and cranberry relish. I was already getting full, even though I tried to pace myself accordingly.

Then the main course arrived.  The platter of chicken legs, thighs, breasts, and wings came with mashed potatoes, dressing, noodles, green beans, and gravy.  It was like Thanksgiving dinner six months early, and we ate until we were stuffed.

To add atmosphere, there was a person in a chicken costume roaming the dining room.  Frankly, this was my least favorite aspect of the entire meal because I wondered if that is what people who eat too much chicken turn into.  Probably not, but maybe I better not take any chances.

I think I’ll have a burger for supper today.

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Moving On

I’m still battling with Delta, as I was during my last blog.  At the same time, I’m moving on.  This is Memorial Day Weekend, and Earl and I are taking a long weekend to explore parts of lower Michigan.

We’ve lived in this state permanently since 2002, but we rarely spend time exploring it.  Rather, we take long trips to Florida, Tahiti, Alaska, Wyoming.  We go for the distant extreme rather than the local charmer.

But this summer we’ve decided to stick closer to home and see what Michigan has to offer.  This weekend, for instance, we’re touring Henry Ford’s Greenfield Village just outside Detroit proper and then driving north to Frankenmuth the next day for Christmas decorations and fried chicken. Long time friends are joining us there.

We’ve noticed a few things already on this trip.  First, it’s Memorial Day Weekend so there are families on the road, which means heavier traffic. We’ve also noticed that various attractions deserve more time than we’ve allotted them, which mean we’ll need to return. Finally, we see there is a lot of walking in the attractions we chose.  As we age it’s something to consider.

And since we’re planning a trip to London in the fall, where walking over cobblestones will be a challenge, we’re learning a thing or two that could help.

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You’ve Got to be Kidding!

I’m in a dispute with Delta Airlines about getting one half of an airline ticket credited back to our charge card for lack of performance when my husband recently attended a memorial service in Virginia and didn’t get home for over twenty-six hours later than anticipated. It caused him to miss three important business meetings as well.

The most recent email I received from Delta acknowledges it cancelled the flight in question without alerting passengers and didn’t give my husband the proper vouchers for food, although he did have a voucher for a hotel. It also tells me that if Earl had rented a car and driven home from Atlanta, GA, he would have been eligible for half a ticket’s refund.  Since he didn’t do that, the airline is sorry but it cannot issue any refund.

Then Delta adds insult to injury.  Not only does it admit a lack of customer service, but also today we got an email questionnaire asking how satisfied we are with the “personal” attention we’ve received.  Let me tell you how satisfied I am.

I’ve already called our credit card company and had the entire ticket charge reversed.  And I’m writing one of my favorite columnists in The Chicago Tribune.  He’s the one who goes to bat for underdogs and gets their money back. I will use the email trail Delta and I have established these past couple weeks as evidence that I contacted the company first before lodging a formal complaint.

You can see I’m fixated on this. I don’t deny it.  But I work for a company where a human answers the phone and solves a customer relations problem before ever hanging up.  I come to this current problem with a certain kind of expectation; and I am disappointed that Delta, a giant in the airline industry, doesn’t meet those standards but wants to know if I’m satisfied anyway. You’ve got to be kidding.

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Mother’s Day Musings

I have a modest proposal, one which requires no realignment of national priorities, no exhaustive jury trial, no international intervention.  It may, however, make greeting card companies and florists angry.

Abolish Mother’s Day.

The idea for the modern Mother’s Day began when Anna Jarvis of Grafton, WV, held a memorial in 1907 for her mother who had passed away two years earlier.  According to Wikipedia, thereafter Jarvis began to lobby the make Mother’s Day a national event and was successful in 1914.  But by the 1920s she was soured by the commercialization of the holiday.

According to her New York Times obituary, Jarvis (who died a spinster) once said: “A printed card means nothing except that you are too lazy to write to the woman who has done more for you than anyone in the world.  And candy! You take a box to Mother – and then eat most of it yourself.  A pretty sentiment.”

I too am soured by the over-the-top commercialization of Mother’s Day.  But my real reason for abolishing it is more because of the blurring of roles in today’s society and not because I think one is lazy for sending a store-bought card over a handwritten note.

Perhaps it was simpler in Ms. Jarvis’s day.  But now which category of mothers do we honor? The nuclear family mother?  The adoptive mother?  The foster care mother?  The stepmother?  The mother-in-law?  Each of these categories deserves recognition, but they overlap.  The stepmother, for example, often has to share the day with the biological mother.  The grandmother shares time with her daughter, who could be a mother in her own right. Who honors whom?  Who cooks Sunday dinner?

Additionally with families becoming more splintered and traditional male and female roles becoming less delineated, should a stay-at-home Dad get breakfast in bed on Mother’s Day?

The retort could be that we honor all people who are “mothers” on the second Sunday in May.  Greeting card companies seem to be taking this all-inclusive route, since we now have Mother’s Day cards for various sub-categories such as “aunt” and “special person.”  I have nothing against mothers or aunts or special people; but, in my mind this adds to the opportunities for commercialism more than it does anything else.

When I mentioned my proposal to a friend, she said:  “I suppose you’d want to eliminate Father’s Day too.”

Well . . .

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Delta Update and www.gethuman.com

In my effort to get compensation for Earl’s travel problems last weekend, I’ve gathered my data, contacted my travel agent for back-up, and determined the best way to approach Delta.

Time was when you had a complaint you contacted the company involved and discussed things on the phone.  Today telephone numbers are an endangered species, especially if you’re a giant corporation, particularly one in the communications industry.  If you’ve ever searched a website to find a telephone number, you know what I mean.

Then I remembered www.gethuman.com   I wrote about this website last in 2008, and am glad to find it is still in existence. Since then it’s morphed into something less charming but still just as helpful when you want to find that elusive telephone number.

For the record, here is the best way to contact Delta Airlines by telephone.  Call 800-692-6980.  Regardless of the prompts, keep pressing “0”.  The average wait time is 12 minutes. There are also five other telephone numbers for Delta with additional information on how to move through the prompts.

Gethuman  has over 8,000 companies in its database. So the next time you need to talk with a real, live person at Delta or Verizon or any other corporate behemoth, you have an added ally.

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