?`s and ANNEswers

Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Singles in New York

Posted on June 19, 2007

I just arrived at my home-away-from-home for the next week, The Maritime Hotel in the Chelsea district of Manhattan. I’ve done this trip many times before, so I came prepared. The city that bills itself as the Big Apple greets singles with wide open arms and outstretched hands.

However, the singles I’m talking about are not unattached males and females; Oh no. I’m talking cold, hard cash in the form of the one dollar bill. Nowhere else in my travels is one dollar used as frequently to thank the bellhop who grabs your luggage when you step from the cab (You hardly have a choice to carry your own stuff.), or to tip the hotel steward for bringing ice (There is no ice machine at the Maritime.). Or to reward your barista at Starbucks (Where I live, the baristas are not allowed to accept tips!). Or to show gratitude for a thousand little things we in the Midwest assume are just part of the service one is due.

I went to the bank before I left home and “bought” fifty one dollar bills to dispense during my week’s stay. So far I’ve parted with four of them, and I’ve been in town less than an hour. At least I’m now sitting in my comfy hotel room with an evening’s supply of ice. Keith and Chris will arrive soon with our alcoholic beverages of choice — at least I don’t have to tip them for making a liquor store stop — and we’ll begin our marathon gabfest.

See more 10 Minutes in category | Leave a comment

Exercise

Posted on June 18, 2007

I’ve never been a devotee of exercise. In fact, I’ve been known to brag that I went through sixteen years of schooling without ever attending a gym class. But I’m reconsidering my position.

When Earl and I gutted our bathrooms about a year and a half ago, we needed a place to shower so that we could maintain our position in local society. So we joined the South Shore Health and Racquet Club (SSHRC), an organization I’ve written about on more than one occasion. None of my blogs is complimentary.

However, in the time I’ve been a member I’ve lost ten pounds, become more firm and muscle-y, learned to curb my appetite, and generally have greater stamina than I had before. I don’t like exercising any better, but I do like the results. And, in spite of the dirtiness of SSHRC, I’m committed to maintaining my new level of fitness.

Earl once said to me, “Find something physical you like to do, and then do it forever.” So I took up rollerblading about twelve years ago. I would blade on the streets of Chicago, careening in and out of parked cars and challenging busses. But the downside was that I broke my leg in a rollerblading tournament, which meant my physical passion became my cautious exercise. In effect, I had to find something else that would allow me to pursue it at a more advanced age.

So, I’m trying to bike more often. Biking is something one is supposed to be able to do into advanced age; and this is evident with my uncle’s brother-in-law, Rene, who biked in races into his late seventies. That means I have a good ten years to enjoy this pursuit. Hopefully, I’ll continue to be flexible, fit, and firm.

See more 10 Minutes in category | Leave a comment

Father’s Day Musings

Posted on June 17, 2007

My ex-husband, Jeff, died two days ago and is being buried tomorrow. We would have been divorced fifteen years this coming August; and, truthfully, I haven’t spent much of the intervening time thinking about him.

I knew he was ill late last fall when his daughter, Rachel, contacted me. At that time, she said he wouldn’t live to year’s end. So my two sons and I all wrote him personal letters telling him of our feelings and reminiscing of our time together. Then Earl and I went off to Tahiti for a winter break from Michigan’s snow and cold. And life moved on.

When I returned from Tahiti, there was a message on my answering machine from Jeff. I responded by returning his call and we had a wonderful conversation. He had checked himself out of the nursing home where he’d been and returned to the apartment of his ladyfriend. He sounded in good spirits. He talked about clowning, his first love. And that was the end of it until Rachel emailed me last week that he was in the hospital.

I called her. She said the end was near; Jeff was in Resurrection Hospital in Chicago, not lucid, and breathing laboriously. It was a matter of hours. She promised to keep in touch, while I contacted my two sons with an update.

The inevitable came Friday morning and brought a flurry of communication between Rachel, my sons, and me. Even though we said our goodbyes in those wintry letters of last year, the finality of it — and the timing of it in terms of Father’s Day — is a different thing.

My older son Kevin is driving 600 miles to attend the funeral. He has wonderful memories of Jeff, as does my younger son Keith who cannot attend. I’m glad for both of them that they remember their stepfather as having contributed greatly to their lives. I may not share the same appreciation of the man, but what I want this Father’s Day to be about is an acknowledgment of what he did for Kevin and Keith. Thanks, Jeff.

See more 10 Minutes in category , , , | Leave a comment

Wrinkles

Posted on June 16, 2007

“You’ll never have to iron them,” the salesperson on the other end of the phone told Earl when he ordered some dress shirts recently. “They’re a special fabric,” Earl reported back to me. But I was skeptical.

Such clothing has been around for years. I remember in the 1970s my friend Jane Robinson would talk about how she had given up ironing in favor of clothing labeled “Permanent Press” or “Wash and Wear.” She would simply remove the shirts and other articles from the dryer while they were still warm, shake them, and hang them on hangers. I tried that back then, but wasn’t happy with the results. So, I consigned myself to ironing for another thirty years, just to have a smooth crease and a flat collar.

More recently, Earl’s daughter Adaire and I had a conversation about the current style for summer wear. It’s pretty much wrinkled linen; while she loves it, I can’t bring myself to wear it. It goes against my ironing principles. And when Earl’s shirts arrived, sure enough . . . as far as I’m concerned I wouldn’t wear one without pressing it, even if I dragged it from my dryer at high heat. Or even if wrinkled clothing is all the rage.

Maybe it’s my age; my mother taught me to iron before I was in junior high school, and I’ve been at it ever since. I asked another friend of mine, Noreen, if she felt the same way and was relieved to learn she did. We giggled together about our eccentricity. My only hope is that if wrinkles are in as far as clothing is concerned, might they not be in soon as far as aging is concerned? In that case, I’ll gladly wear them.

See more 10 Minutes in category , | Leave a comment

A Decade of Sunsets

Posted on June 14, 2007

Ten years ago I moved into an industrial loft in Chicago’s Fulton Market District. My unit faced north, and I spent many evenings on my balcony admiring the sunset to my west. That area was an industrial corridor unobstructed by high rises; so the sun fell onto railroad tracks and warehouses and falling-down buildings, bathing them in gold in its wake. I never tired of it.

Eight years ago Earl and I moved together to another loft, only this time it faced east. You would think we would revel in sunrises, but that was not the case. Our unit faced the Chicago River, across from which was a tall office building completely encased in glass. The redeeming factor was that the sun, which actually set behind us, reflected in the glass each evening. So we enjoyed the sunset as much as I had in my previous home.

Now we’re almost six years in this St. Joseph location. And, last night, as I finished watching the night’s fading rays, I thought to myself, “I must be getting complacent, for I don’t plan my evening around sunsets anymore.”

Maybe I’ve come to take them for granted, which isn’t a good thing. A sunset is a wonderful way to finish the day, to gear down, to quit work of all kinds. It’s nature’s version of “Taps.” Having gently chided myself, I plan to sit on our deck more often during the rest of the summer and watch the sun disappear behind the trees that line the river bank behind our house.

Because a decade of sunset memories is hardly enough.

See more 10 Minutes in category , , | Leave a comment

You’re Fired!

Posted on June 13, 2007

Today I let my administrative assistant go, and it was more difficult that Donald Trump makes it look. But then, maybe I’m less callous than he.

I liked her, I liked her a lot. But the bottom line was that her skill set and what I needed didn’t match well; and I spent more time than I wanted trying to explain things, simplifying them, and generally not adding too much to her workload as she acclimated to the job. She acclimated for over three months and still hadn’t learned all the basics. So I let her go with a check in her hand for the past week’s work.

The last time I fired someone was for totally different reasons. Years ago my ex-husband and I owned a balloon company that we ran out of a retail store on the main street in the town where we lived. We’d hired a manager to run the store but got wind that she was dealing drugs from our shop. I don’t remember all the particulars, but in the end I was the one to confront her and send her packing.

Regardless of the reason, being fired must be an awful experience. Even if there have been counseling sessions where the employee’s work is critiqued the actual firing is usually sudden. Yet, from the employer’s point of view having to do the deed is equally awful. It’s abrupt, unsettling, and requires determination and calm. It also means that you will not reap any long-term benefit from the time you invested in another human being. Quite possibly you have to start over again with someone new.

Which is what I’m doing. I called one of the women who also interviewed for my administrative assistant’s job this past March. Back then, she was my second choice. She will let me know tomorrow if she’s interested. If so, I’ll begin again. If not, I’ll also begin again . . . only with a brand new search.

See more 10 Minutes in category | Leave a comment

Time Constraints

Posted on June 12, 2007

As a child, I often heard older people say how time flies. Yet, as I waited for school to be out on Friday afternoon, it seemed as if time passed incredibly slowly. Monday creeped into Tuesday, while Tuesday crawled into Wednesday and on to the end of the week. Time raced only on the weekend.

It didn’t get better in young adulthood, although the timeframes became longer. My husband and I no longer ached for weekends; rather we banked our hopes on forthcoming holidays or accumulating vacation time so that we could take road trips to rev our engines.

When children arrived, time acquired a different calendar. Now we became aware of the September school bell and distributed our lives around it, like moths to flame. We took short vacations at Thanksgiving, longer ones at Christmas, and the longest of all during summer break. Just like everyone else.

Now, my children are in their thirties, which means I am middle aged, even under the kindest of colloquialisms. I don’t long for Fridays or hearken to a school bell, nor have I done so for years. At the same time, I find there are still time constraints. They are of the energy kind. I have all the time in the world in one respect, but can’t do as much with it as I could when I waited for that Friday school bell. I only wish someone would have alerted me to this when I was young and eager.

See more 10 Minutes in category | Leave a comment

Zeke’s

Posted on June 3, 2007

Last year Earl and wandered into Zeke’s, a tavern/restaurant in Dowagiac, a town about twenty or so miles further down the road. We had been exploring backroads and wanted something to drink. Zeke’s, which has two hundred beers on tap and in bottles, fit the bill; and we spent an enjoyable hour at the bar.

“You should come on Sunday,” our bartendress said at one point. We have a breakfast buffet.” Earl’s ears picked up, as breakfast is his favorite meal anytime of the day.

Last Sunday we finally returned to Zeke’s in anticipation of a wonderful meal. It was also part scouting expedition, because we are having houseguests in a couple weeks and thought this might be a place to take them.

We entered the restaurant and noticed it was not particularly crowded. Not a big deal; we were relatively early. The server showed us to a booth and placed two menus on the table. I told Earl I was going to check out the buffet before sitting down. He ordered coffee for us as I moved away.

I expected fresh fruit and pastries, quiches and casseroles, eggs and the standard breakfast meats, as well as maybe some thinly sliced roast beef, to greet my eyes as well as my nostrils. I was already mentally savoring an onion bagel and cream cheese. But where was the buffet? Was it in a different room? Had we heard the bartendress correctly?

Then I found it. The sum total of selections was on one steam table over in the corner. I sidled up to it and surveyed quartered wedges of French toast, some sort of eggs in a container, and bacon. I’m sure there was more to it, but I beat a hasty retreat to my coffee and reported my findings to Earl. He went and looked too, returning with a wry smile. “I think I’ll order off the menu,” he said.

Over our dry eggs and burnt bacon, we figured it out. Zeke’s is known for its 200 brands of beer; but you can’t sell beer on Sunday until the afternoon. So I’m guessing the buffet is a means of making Sunday morning more profitable until the bar opens. If I were Zeke, however, I’d just open later in the day, and stick to what I do best And what he does best definitely isn’t a breakfast buffet.

See more 10 Minutes in category , | Leave a comment

Easy

Posted on May 31, 2007

Maybe you’ve seen the Staples office supply store’s commercials about how easy it is when you use that company for your office supply needs. Maybe you’ve even visited the official Staples web site to order things and learned how easy it was. In either case, you’ve encountered the motto of the firm, which is “That was easy.”

And now Staples has a big button to prove it. The button in question is featured here, and when you push the top a voice says, “That was easy.” Only it sounds more like “That wah-zee-zee.” No matter. It’s a great addition to one’s work day. And it can be purchased at Staples for a mere five dollars.

I have enjoyed owning this button immensely. Whenever I do a simple task, I push the button to hear “Wah-zee-zee.” And when a task is difficult and I complete it, I hit the button to remind me that it was, in the end, pretty easy too.

I suspect the marketing wing of the firm didn’t really start out to sell buttons, but the entire project got out of hand and a proliferation of noisy buttons was the result. It’s really quite clever.

And easy!

See more 10 Minutes in category | Leave a comment

Moving Again

Posted on May 30, 2007

We’re thinking of moving once again. It’s as if we’re rolling stones and the moss is beginning to accumulate and we need to shake it loose. This time, we’ve purchased a condo; and, even though it’s slated to be ready for occupancy almost a year from now, I find myself spending imaginary shopping sprees in search of furniture, paint, and window coverings. I’d say it’s the gypsy in me, but the truth is this is what I know. I’ve moved over thirty times in over sixty years. It’s second nature; when it’s time to paint it’s time to move.

If we make this move, we’ll downsize from a lovely four bedroom house on an acre of land to an equally lovely two bedroom condo with an additional office space for Earl and an additional piano room for me. We’re giving up many things; at the same time, we’re gaining just as many.

What are we giving up? First and foremost, we’re losing our view of the St. Joseph River, which runs just outside our back door. It’s absolutely one-of-a-kind beautiful. But we’re also giving up the flood insurance that comes with the view. And the lawn care and the back-of-the-mind concern that at any time the river might take revenge for some unintentional behavior and pour into our basement unabated.

We’re giving up the landscaping that we’ve tenderly nursed for almost seven years. And the interior improvements we’ve made. And the space. And the three and a half car garage with an additional tool room. Which means we’re giving up the ability to store and stock anything we want without worrying about space constraints.

What are we gaining? Well, what about the ability to go away and not have to worry if Ole’ Man River will be in our yard or our crawl space when we return. What about the cottage industry this house has become? We employ a gardener, an arborist, a sprinker man, and a cleaning service to keep us running in tip-top shape. If we’re gone on the third Tuesday of every month, we have to make alternative plans to let the cleaning crew in.

Some of our friends say, “How can you leave this place?” I don’t have the answer yet, because I truly love it here in spite of all the time it takes to run River House. At the same time, I look forward to closing the door and taking a trip and not having to make so many preparations before leaving. So maybe the purchase of this new condo means we’re entering a new phase of our lives. It remains to be seen, but I plan to be ready.

See more 10 Minutes in category , | Leave a comment