Mt. Zion United Church Of Christ, Cleveland, Ohio - A Review.

     Page Two Hundred Ninety.

     I may have written prior that I really enjoy going to church. I'm Jewish and my definition of God falls squarely within the parameters of traditional Orthodox Judaism, but I also enjoy a good Protestant sermon. When ministers start going on and on, I simply translate the term "Jesus" to "God" and then I'm able to access most pulpit messages with great ease. However, if the sermon is actually about Jesus, i.e. his life; his struggles or what have you as opposed to his teachings, i.e. love one another; don't be a hypocrite, etc. I'm bored to tears and zone out. That really doesn't happen often though. Thankfully, most sermons really are about his message.
     How I got to this point in my life is a separate blog which I won't deliver now, just know that many, many Sundays, if I don't have to work at the museum, I'm darkening the door of some nearby Protestant church. (When the ministers sense me coming, they run and hide.) Quite often I'll even attend 2 different churches on the same Sunday, attending 9.30AM service at one, then 11AM service at another. I refer to these as "Double Features". In past blogs, I've implied that a REAL lot of people know who I am. This is one reason why.
     So, Sunday morning, November 16th,  I was in the mood for something really different. I went to Mt. Zion United Church of Christ down in University Circle. I've mentioned before that University Circle is Cleveland's arts & cultural hub, and also home to some glorious houses of worship. Well, Mt. Zion isn't one of them. It's in an old, huge mansion with a large, 1960's sanctuary added on in back. But, brother, they get the job done.
     I met the minister of Zion at an event last summer and liked him and had also heard of the church in the past, so that's what prompted me to attend. I was surprised to find it 98% Black. I was expecting an integrated church for some reason, don't now why, just was. So, this happened to be a special Sunday for a variety of reasons: it was potluck Sunday; it was a celebration of  male prayer and there was a visiting minister who'd be delivering the sermon. This visitor was from a nearby Seventh Day Adventist church, but had a nationwide reputation for his preaching skills.
     So... where to start... where to start... where to start...
     How about the music? It was the real deal. This was the music that James Brown, Aretha and Little Richard grew up on. It was serious. It was worth the price of admission. Fabulous!
Music: 10/10
     Sermon. This guy was unreal. In the African-American tradition, some ministers deliver a message in a loud, fast voice. That message is sometimes so loud and fast that the words, themselves, are unintelligible, and indeed, almost unimportant (but the congregants would never, ever say that). But, the spirit and emotion of the delivery and the spirit and emotion of the room is what lifts away the congregation. Truly, the message itself is unimportant (but again, they would never, ever say that). By contrast, this guy was sometimes very loud, and sometimes spoke very fast, but EVERY SINGLY WORD WAS UNDERSTANDABLE AND THE MESSAGE WAS FANTASTIC! His message was this: you are God's child. You are entitled to his blessings as any child expects his or her father to take care of them. Have the audacity to expect to be taken care of. Have the nerve to not take "No" for an answer. Keep praying over and over for blessings. Live in prayer and never give up the prayer. Expect answers and expect blessings. It was extraordinary.
Sermon 10/10
     Comfort/grace/reception. I was received graciously. This was a congregation clearly used to visitors. They were friendly and appropriate. It goes without saying, but I'll say it, I ran into people whom I knew. Nobody bent over backwards to make me feel welcome, but that's okay.
Reception of the newcomer/visitor: 8/10
     Children. I adore kids, of course, and savor kid energy. The more children that are in a congregation and the more the congregation values those children, the better. In this group of 100-125 warm bodies, there were only about  8 children. That's not a good sign in my opinion. The number of youths should've been double that. But I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps a bunch of kids were home with colds.
Children: 6/10
     Total experience: 8.5/10
     Remains to be seen what the congregation is really all about. Demographically, as already stated it's 98% Black. Appears to be solidly middle-class and upper-middle class as evidenced by the number of BMW's in the parking lot. The congregation was absolutely NOT dressed to the nines. That's very unusual for a Black church. I suspect that's another sign of their financial stability. Politically, I'll have to do some snooping. We all know that Black churches can run conservative on social issues, but I'm assuming that some conservatism in this particular church may be tempered by the fact that Mt. Zion is a member of the United Church of Christ, a denomination widely recognized for it's extremely and intensely liberal stance on social issues. And, there are very few Black UCC churches around. So, I'm thinking that there may be something very magical happening at Mt. Zion.
     I plan on phoning the minister and setting up an appointment to sit, have coffee and chat. I'll let you know what I find out.

An Unfortunate Benefit

     Page Two Hundred Eighty-Nine.
     I'm not going to go into details here, but for the first time in my life, I'm refusing to go to a benefit which I've helped plan.
     I've been on so many planning committees over the years I can't even tell you. I was the ongoing chairman of the decorating committees for two different organizations' benefits for 10 years each, and indeed, one of those well-know Cleveland arts organizations made me volunteer of the year in 1998. I've served in so many different capacities on so many committees for so many different worth causes it's just nauseating. But never have I been as frustrated as with the current situation.
     The party is very soon and I'm simply not going. Thanks for letting me vent.

Notarizing Autumn

     Page Two Hundred Eighty-Eight.

     Last spring I became a Notary Public. A friend told me of an iffy job prospect which required a person to be a Notary as the first step and I thought "why not"? So here I am.
     Sometime during the 1960's there was strip in Peanuts in which Linus presents Charlie Brown with the "first official leaf of autumn". CB responds "what's so special about this leaf" They've been falling for weeks?"
     "I had this one notarized", declared Linus.
     So a few weeks ago, I presented a good friend with a beautiful, oak leaf which I'd notarized. She appreciated it immensely.

On Working At the Cleveland Museum Of Art Store

     Page Two Hundred Eighty-Seven.
     I still can't completely wrap my head around the fact that I work at the museum. Granted, I don't have enough hours and the pay isn't great, however, I am networking and that's exactly what I'm supposed to be doing right now. But also, the fact that I work in their store is amazing. It's kinda fancy and expensive. Please don't break anything.
     Last Sunday, our sales goal was an unrealistic $6600.00 while $4500.00 would have been much more attainable for a typical Sunday. As it was, we ended selling $10,100.00. Afterwards, we realized it was Labor Day weekend and it's the last week of a special exhibit on Yoga Art. So there you go. It's a modest-sized store, perhaps 1/2 the size of a Walgreen or CVS, but it can generate over $10,000 worth of sales in one day. And it's not even December yet, Lord help us. I'll bet you anything that we'll have 15 or even 20 thousand days in a couple of months. I sometimes feel like I work in Tiffany's.

An Emergency With A 12 Year Old - Update

     Page Two Hundred Eighty-Six.
     You may remember a blog from about a month ago in which I wrote about babysitting a 12 year old boy, unexpectedly, overnight. I ended that blog by saying that I barely made the final cut for his older brother's Bar Mitzvah a couple of years ago because their father and step-mom had no clue how fond their boys were of me. (I'm typically employed by mom.) I was however hopeful that this summer's emergency situation would educate dad and step-mom appropriately so as to invite me to the younger one's upcoming Bar Mitzvah with greater awareness. They did.
     The shindig will be in 6 weeks and looks like it will be plenty fancy. I should start saving up calories now. 

Vermont Super Club - A Review

     Page Two Hundred Eighty-Five.
     I arrived in New York on Friday Evening, stayed the weekend and then drove up to Vermont on Monday morning. I'm still very good friends with Diana, the woman who hired and supervised me at Fancy-Shmancy Nursing Home, in 2003, until she retired in 2004. She has a place in Vermont and when we discovered that we'd both be in New England the same week we knew that I'd have to go up and say "Hi!". My hostess's husband died some months ago, and she's not getting younger, so who knows if this was my last time up there? Subsequently, I only wanted to savor every moment among those trees and hills. This was my 3rd time visiting and it's absolutely beautiful. Hardwick, a tiny pocket of the world with a few thousand inhabitants, is quite far north, just a short drive from Canada and the scenery is spectacular. It's also the largest village for about 20-30 minutes in any direction. So it's the buzzing metropolis for that part of the galaxy.
     Diana's daughter, Julie, and her boyfriend, Jim, live in the Vermont home year round and one evening Diana, Jim and I went to dinner at Vermont Supper Club, a nice place nearby. Julie didn't join us due to her work schedule, but she and Jim both declared it to be a good eatery. It was tres fancy by Vermont standards (Vermonters, ultra-sophisticated and well-educated as they are, do prefer to wear their plaid and denim) and the food was good. Not great but good, I'd recommend it.
     It's decor was casually elegant. In Cleveland, it's tables would have had white tablecloths and chrome candle sticks. But as it was, the tables were polished wood with contemporary, white porcelain salt and pepper shakers. There was complimentary bread and butter, though the butter was mixed with something which didn't add to the effect. Also, each table received a plate of freshly fried shrimp or crab or something. It's unexpectedness was quite charming and whatever it was tasted very good.
     I got a burger with onion rings and a salad as Diana was treating. The rings sucked as the ratio of batter to onion was sinful. I mean really, REALLY sinful. We're talking Sodom and Gomorrah here.  But you know what? I'm not even going there. I know going in that most places ruin their rings. I'm just always fascinated by the new, creative and unusual ways by which they do it. But my salad and burger were strong so I was happy.
     My salad was interesting, not skimpy and also accompanied by a good house dressing. My burger was presented medium as ordered, anther surprise, and juicy and flavorful. As I was in Vermont, I felt obliged to get Cheddar melted on top and it was nice and sharp. Diana and Jim were also happy with their meals of large dinner salads. Upon exiting we all felt satisfied, pleased with the decor, prices, presentation, service and food experience. I liked it and would go back.
     Vermont Supper Club - Hardwick, Vermont (seriously... the middle of nowhere). My rating 7.5/10
(Would be higher if not for the rings.) 

Almost Famous - A Review

     Page Two Hundred Eighty-Four.
     There was only one thing on my agenda concerning sightseeing/shopping while in New York. I wanted to go to a fantastic used DVD store. Buying used DVD's is my primary hobby right now and I wanted to find some great place where I could indulge in my whims and browse for hours through racks of classic/obscure/cult/silent/foreign movies. Deb, my hostess, did some research and found the perfect spot: Academy Records & Cd's at 12 West 18 Street in Manhattan was just the place. I browsed for a long while and bought way more than I should have. I purchased a couple dozen movies, many of which I've never even heard of. They simply looked like I couldn't possibly live without them.
     One of the few movies I purchased which I had heard of, let alone seen, was Almost Famous. This coming of age/comedy/drama from 2000, is one of those movies I didn't want to end. Directed by Cameron Crowe, it tells the story of 15 year old William, who gets hired by Rolling Stone magazine in 1973, to write a behind the scenes expose of one of his favorite rock bands. The movie is highly autobiographical for Crowe as that was exactly how he got his start in entertainment. Rolling Stone hired him in '73, when he was 16, to do a cover story on the Allman Brothers Band. He'd go on to write many more cover stories for them prior to writing his first mass-appeal book: Fast Times At Ridgemont High.
     All the performances and plot points were believable and the level of endearment is off the scale, but with nary an ounce of sentimentality. It's the first of all the newly purchased movies which I've watched and I'm pleased with that decision.
     Almost Famous. My rating: 9/10
     Should my next movie be To Be Or Not To Be, 1942, with Jack Benny and Carole Lombard; Jean Renoir's Boudu Saved From Drowning, 1932, (one can TRULY see the influence of the father's painting style when viewing cinematic works by the son); or Saw, 20004? I've never seen any of these. Hmmmm..... How will I decide? How, how, how?

How Many Parents At A Wedding Reception?

     Page Two Hundred Eighty-Three.
     I went to New York for a wedding reception My ex step-nephew got married some months ago but he and his wife only now had their reception.
     Ben, the groom, is the product of Bruce and Sandi's marriage which ended in about 1979 when he was, perhaps, 3. Sandi then married Bob in about '81 and Bruce married my sister in '83. Sandi and Bob divorced in the late '80's and she's been single ever since. Bob then married Carol in '92, I think. Bruce and my sister divorced in '12 and he recently married Alice. All 6 parents were there.
     Brooke, the bride, has a similar situation, though my sister wasn't able to figure out all the details. Her mother has had 3 marriages with husbands #1 & 3 both being named Paul. All those husbands and wives attended as well. Between Ben and Brooke, there were 12 parents in attendance.
     Here's my opinion, for what it's worth. No child ever wants their parents to divorce, but if they must divorce, these are the types of relationships you hope for. Ben has 6 people whom he can phone in an emergency, when only a parent will do. Brooke has the same. Of course some of the ex-spouses get along better than others. Sandi doesn't get along with any of her ex's, but everybody was civil and there for the bride and groom. How wonderful.

Another Car Repair Story

     Page Two Hundred Eighty-Two.
     This is my first blog, after a nice little vacation. More about the vacation later. But first, this is just too good...
     I planned on leaving Friday morning, August 15th at 8AM. The previous Tuesday, the 12th, at 3PM, I took my car to my mechanic, 2 short blocks from my apartment, to get an oil change which was 1000 miles overdue. He called me 15 minutes later with the news that I needed a new timing belt and transmission pan. Great. I picked up the car and then dropped it back off on Wednesday evening at 6PM. Tom said, "I'll have it ready tomorrow evening or sometime Friday morning".
     "No", I replied. "I'm leaving Friday at 8AM. I need it back Thursday night."
     "Okay, you'll have it back Thursday night." 
     I phoned him on Thursday at 5 to say I'd be by at 6, when they close, to pick up my machine.
     "It's taking longer than we thought. Give us a couple of extra hours."
     So I went over at 8 and sat for an hour 'till Tom and Mike finished. Prior to driving out at 9, I gave Tom a boatload of money. I appreciated that they each stayed 3 hours past closing so I could drive to New York the next morning and I told them so. I have an extremely good relationship with my mechanic, Tom, and his employees: Mike and Gary. I then drove the 2 blocks home and got ready for my get-a-way. 
     I woke up earlier than anticipated on Friday and pulled out of my parking lot, ready to go, at 6.30AM. (Leaving for a long road trip 90 minutes ahead of schedule, that early in the morning, qualifies me for a Nobel Prize in some category. I'm just not sure which one.) Within 100 feet though, I knew there was a problem. The machine didn't feel right at all. First, I was in denial. I figured that the new pieces simply had to "gel", which really isn't that bizarre. Sometimes when you have serious work done under the hood, it takes a few moments for everything to sound and feel normal again. But as I went to the bank and Starbucks and it wasn't getting better, I proceeded from denial to stubborn. "I don't care! I'm going anyhow." Then, as I was leaving the gas station and beauty salon (which I had to prep for the day) I went from stubborn to acceptance. "I don't f***ing believe this!"
     I then drove back to Tom's shop, parked in the lot, turned on the radio, WCLV - Cleveland's classical station, turned off the car, pushed the seat to full recline and went to sleep. This was at 6.50AM.
     I was rudely woken at 8.05 by Tom knocking on my window. "Jeremy, what are you doing here?" I explained the situation. He fiddled under the hood for a few moments and told me to drive around the block. It was a little bit better but not much. He then examined under the hood with all his experience as Mike drove up and stared at us. Apparently, Mike's expression was such that Tom then said to me, "Mike just threw up in his mouth."
     They fiddled under the hood for a while and 20 minutes later Tom declared that some very important hose split while all the work was being done the day prior. It had to be special ordered and then picked-up from Marshall Ford, way down Mayfield Road, which is under construction. I made myself comfy in his shop and phoned my NY hostess, declaring the problem.
     While I was sitting, drinking Starbucks and pretending to be driving to New York City, a lady walked in and declared that she was there for her oil change and tire rotation appointment. We talked for 90 minutes or so while her car was happily being adjusted, without incident, after which she handed me her business card and suggested that I apply for a job with her very large company which was hiring. We agreed that we'd talk at some point in the near future.
     At 11.15AM, Tom declared that the hose had been replaced and I'd gotten a tune-up, all for free. I appreciated that. Ethically speaking though, that really is what he should have done. But still, there appears to be such a lack of ethics in today's work place, that when someone actually displays it, there's and air or refreshment. I felt it.
     I called my New York host and hostess (whom I hadn't laid eyes on since 1995) after getting on the freeway at 11.30. They were cool with the delay. I pulled in their driveway at 7.30PM and met their extremely lovely 15 year old daughter whom I've been sending Valentine's cards to since she was born and also met the family dog whom I'm now friends with on Facebook. Literally. The dog has his own Facebook page with a couple hundred friends. I'd describe this family as "wacky" except for the fact that he's a cardiologist and they live in Pelham Manor. (Peham Manor is a rather swanky and chic suburb of NY.) I wasn't exactly roughing it.
     I just LOVE seeing long-time friends. 

Only One Day Of The Feast

     Page Two Hundred Eighty-One.
     Last year I wrote heavily about one of my favorite events: Cleveland's Feast of the Assumption. I won't get into that again, here and now. But, suffice it to say, the food is extravagant and one of the things I look forward to the most during the entire calendar. This year though, I'm off to New York City to help my ex-step-nephew celebrate his wedding which will be the same weekend. So, I'm only going to catch one day of the most glorious food that Cleveland-based Italians have to offer. I may not survive the lack of nourishment. 
     By the way, after NYC, I'm off to Vermont for a couple of days to visit some other friends. One friend in Vermont is the head chef at a vacation lodge and the other friend is her mother who's an elderly, German woman. NYC food... head chef food... elderly, German woman food... okay, fine... I won't starve, I guess.

Gay Games 9

     Page Two Hundred Eighty.
     Many months ago I mentioned that the 9th International Gay Games are coming here to Cleveland. Well, they're here now and the place just isn't the same.
     The gay games are similar to the Olympics. Indeed, some of the competitors have been, or will be, in the Olympics. But unlike those games, the gay games are open to anybody of any ability and are extremely inclusive. Gay men, lesbians, straight people, transgendered individuals... anybody, and the post man, are invited to participate. And they do. In the past, the games have been in gay meccas like New York; San Francisco; Stuttgart, Germany and so forth. The 10th games will be in Paris, France. So why are they in Cleveland now?
     Cleveland rolled out the best red carpet 4 years ago for the search committee. That's why. We were up against Boston and Washington D.C. and when Cleveland got it, the other cities' reactions were "are you kidding? Cleveland? What sort of joke is this?" You see, only slowly is the international community of tourists coming to realize that Cleveland has a lot to offer travelers. But they are nevertheless coming to realize it now. That's also one reason why the 2016 Republican National Convention will be here.
     Now to be sure, another reason that the games are here is because the organizers wanted to go a little more mainstream. The days of the novelty of homosexuality are numbered. By having the games in Cleveland, they're making a statement of "we're everywhere, not just on the coasts and not just in big obvious cities". Which is also to say that the Republican National Convention, 2016, is going to be in the most blue county in Ohio. Literally. Clevelanders haven't voted Republican for much of anything in years. Cleveland's last Republican mayor was Voinovich in the '80's. The RNC just wants to be in Ohio, the most purple state in the USA. Don't be surprised if the Democrats hold their convention in Columbus or Cincinnati for the same reason. (Does everybody on the planet openly acknowledge that Ohio picks the president?)
     But back to the games: It's being featured in the daily news and I see the visitors during all my shifts at the Cleveland Museum of Art. It's nice for the city and for the visitors (9,000 visiting participants; 20,000 visiting observers). But, ultimately, it's like having a teacher's convention in town. It really is.

Burger King - A Review

     Page Two Hundred Seventy-Nine.
     I recently went to Burger King for a quick bite. I hadn't eaten fast food in over a year. Let me tell you about it.
     I ordered a basic, little burger, plus I asked for tomatoes, lots of 'em and lettuce, lots of it. Additionally, I purchased a small order of French Fries. I wanted a cup of water too, but that would have cost me one dollar and we're talking water from the sink here. On principle, I decided against the $1.00 tap water. My bill came to almost $3.75. They charged me .15 for the extra tomato and .10 for the extra lettuce.
     The burger was exactly what I remembered: small and cardboardy on a mushy bun. There was one very small slice of tomato and one small leaf of lettuce, plus, of course, the ketchup, pickle and so forth. The fries were slightly stale and weren't very hot. Also, there were fewer fries in the pack than there used to be. The best part of the meal was the ketchup. (I love ketchup.) 
     It was a very poor value, particularly in a restaurant chain which plays up value as one of it's assets. The quality was also very low. American fast food has been losing market share for the last few years and the company executives wonder why. In one article I read a couple days ago, the writer declared that Americans are finally waking up to the fact that fast food just doesn't taste very good and it's not worth the money. How true... how true.
     My rating 2/10.

    

Slyman's Restaurant In Cleveland

     Page Two Hundred Seventy-Eight. 

     I was downtown today and while there, got a corned beef sandwich from Slyman's. That place has been written up in a few national columns and on the Food Network. The next time you're in Cleveland, if you like corned beef, I'd suggest you go there. There are a few other places in Cleveland to get fantastic corned beef, too. But they're not written about. You may as well go someplace famous. Be prepared though, it's a hole in the wall and slightly out of the way of Cleveland's main events and circus. But it's worth it. Great fries, too. Enjoy!

Back To School Shopping

     Page Two Hundred Seventy-Seven
     I've mentioned back to school shopping before, but please humor me here. This is a very pleasant memory. If I re-write the same blog once a year, that's okay.
     During the 1990's and 2000's, there were about 5, 6 or 7 summers when I went down to North Carolina to visit my oldest sister and her children. The kids have always responded very well to me and my sister and brother-in-law knew it. So, every year I received the job of taking the kids for their back to school shopping. It wasn't dull.
     Heather, the oldest, was and is a fashionista. With her, it was more about reigning in the spending. We liked a lot of the same things so there was little arguing. She knew exactly what she wanted. I was just along to hang out and gossip with. Now that she's a financial analyst, she doesn't have to reign in the spending as much. (I knew I'd arrived when she invited me to join her and some friends to get coffee and bagels in the morning on the first day of her high school senior year. What an honor that was... my God! In uncledom that's the equivalent of an Oscar.)
     Michael, the middle one, was pure boy. He was rough and tumble and one of the few shopping mistakes I ever made with the kids was the day I allowed him to purchase a cold water only, slightly fancy, ramie shirt. If it had been a touch less fancy and even $10.00 cheaper, I think his mom and dad wouldn't have made us return it. Oh well. (Honestly though, I still wouldn't completely trust him with that shirt, even if today he is a nuclear engineer and the world's coolest person.) 
     Jonathon, the youngest and most sensitive, simply hated wearing clothing. Covering his God-given body was an affront to him. If not for the fact that he's an environmental engineer today, he'd probably live in a nudest colony. As it is, he took 3 sabbaticals from college to go surfing by himself, once to Indonesia and twice to Nicaragua. His friends tease him that one of the reasons he took those trips is so he could live naked on the beach. Imagine trying to buy clothing for a child like that. (Nobody in my family reads my blog. So I'll admit that in my Last Will and Testament, which might come to be needed in about 2050 or so, I request Jonathon to be in charge of my funeral. Of my 14 nieces and nephews I think his sensitivity is closest to mine. I'm the youngest in my family, too. )
     But, of course, it was never really about the clothing; it was about spending time with them. All those trips to the mall are wonderful memories. Even breaking up the incessant fighting between Michael and Jonathon are great memories. (All three are best friends today.)
     Very busy parents rarely want to hear my opinions, but here's one anyhow: Savor the back to school shopping. You'll miss it in 20 years. I promise.

On Replacing Quito & Wanda

     Page Two Hundred Seventy-Six.
     The real Quito died earlier this year, with his housemate and best friend for the last 10 years or so, the real Wanda, predeceasing him by about 3 months. Their humans are ready to move on and have picked out 2 new charmers. As a close family friend, regular dog-sitter and dog god-father, they've asked me to accompany them for a final looksie this coming weekend prior to making the final decision. They've guaranteed my love at first sight with the new kids. We'll see...  
     

Really Great Tex-Mex Style Baked Beans

     Page Two Hundred Seventy-Five.
     These are so good and so easy. Admittedly, this is hardly what I'd call "cooking"; assembling is more to the point. But sometimes assembling is fun, too.
     INGREDIENTS:
     1 can of chili-style baked beans. I prefer Bush's Chili Magic chili starter, medium, but you use whatever you like.
     3-4 tablespoons of sofrito sauce (sometimes called refogado sauce). Sofrito is a Hispanic-style tomato sauce. It's kind of like a smoother version of the salsa you dip your chips into, but it's actually a cooking sauce. Goya brand is what I always purchase. You can always use salsa which has been put through the food processor for a quick moment, or you can even make your own sofrito sauce which good Hispanics cooks do. But I won't get into that right now.
     1 or 1 &1/2 tablespoons of honey.
     A few dashes, more or less to your taste, of Tabasco sauce, or your favorite hot sauce.
     DIRECTIONS:
     Heat everything together, cook for a while and serve. That's it.
     I serve beans over my own, special, wild rice*. I top rice/beans with cheese and micro 'till melted. Then, pour on some taco sauce and top with a little reduced-fat sour cream and sprinkle on some chopped scallions. It's a whole meal which is filling, nutritious and delicious.

*Add 1 or 2 vegetable soup bullion cubes to the water you're cooking the rice in. This little trick pushes that rice right over the top into heaven.

Having Conversations With Dementia Patients

     Page Two Hundred Seventy-Four.
     Some old work supplies were recently returned to me by a friend who borrowed them a couple of years ago. She's a college instructor who used them to show her art therapy classes different ways to interact and have meaningful conversations with people with moderate to severe dementia from Alzheimer's or any other memory impairment. These books were assembled by me for me when I was in charge of activities for two dementia units in a nearby nursing home.     
     One of the books is nothing but photos of people, places and things which people born prior to 1940 or so would be able to relate to. The worlds of entertainment, politics, sports and current events are all included. I copied the pictures from history books and then assembled them in a binder and used it over and over again for the years that I was on that job. Just showing people the pictures conjured up old, buried memories and subsequently, conversations began. I'd strongly recommend any care-giver to a demented loved one consider creating a similar book. It can help provide hours of stimulating conversation. Of course, it helps if the care-giver has done a little research on the various topics so as to prod the conversation along. 
     These photos are an example of ones in my book. Admittedly, I'm a grand risk-taker. Not all of these pictures would be appropriate for all audiences, but in my racially and religiously integrated nursing home, I used photos quite similar to these with great effect. You know your loved one, I don't. But, you'll be surprised what gets the juices going.

A One Day Staycation

     Page Two Hundred Seventy-Three.

University Circle is concentration of bldgs. at top, near horizon

     Yesterday, I took a walk down to University Circle, Cleveland's cultural, medical and educational hub. We certainly have copious museums, hospitals and educational facilities strewn all over the region; but 100 years ago the city planners decided that Cleveland should have many of them in a centralized location. So, a disproportionate amount of those facilities are in a relatively small section of town. I'm sure I've spoken of Cleveland's University Circle region in this blog before, so I won't get into it again. But really, any out-of-towner invariably ends up there.
     I visited the Museum of Contemporary Art; the Crawford Auto Aviation Collection and the Botanical Gardens, in that order. And, I was quite giddy with glee as I flashed my Cleveland  Museum of Art employee badge and received free entrance to all of the above. (The CMA is one of the grandaddies in University Circle, along with Case Western Reserve and a variety of massive, cathedral-like churches. But all the museums have a reciprocal relationship with each other.) Nothing better than a day of free museums! That's pretty much it, as far as I'm concerned.

Museum of Contemporary Art

MOCA

The Botanical Gardens

 2 different rainforests with their glass outer walls and roofs

     I live in Cleveland Heights, a suburb on the hills which overlook University Circle. So I walked down and around and back up again - about 5 miles. It was just a wonderful afternoon.

Gruesome And Overly Done Tea Sandwiches

     Page Two Hundred Seventy-Two.
     The expression "tea sandwich" is merely a term for any fussy, little concoction of bread and filling or topping which you serve your guests to make them feel intimidated by your expertise. Nothing more, nothing less.
     Take any type of bread and fill it or top it with anything, trim off the crusts, or not, and cut it into shapes with your cookie cutter. Shapes which are quite common in parallel universes are best. Arrange onto a platter which was made in 1951 and serve with a smile which says, "there's no way you can do this better than me. I'm superior to you and I have more free time with which to prove it."
     Breads: rye, white, french (cut on the bias), pumpernickel..., home-made white to which food coloring has been added, crackers, etc.
     Fillings-Toppings:chopped egg, watercress, asparagus, caviar, tuna salad, tomato, colored cream cheese, pimiento, olive tapenade, radish, honey-baked ham, cucumber, etc.
     Plus: mayo, mustard, steak sauce, real flowers, parsley, etc.

 






















 May the Lord help you.

Quito. Chapter 17. The Reunion.

     Page Two Hundred Seventy-One.
     One hour and forty-four minutes later, Quito, Wanda, the four kids, the three brothers and a few guests were sitting together in the parlor sipping blue cream soda and munching on tea sandwiches: some watercress, some egg, some asparagus, some tomato, some caviar, all gruesomely fussy and overly done. The kids were at various times crying tears of joy at his return, giggling with happiness or hugging their dog to make sure he was really there. Meanwhile, Herb Alpert was blowing his trumpet on the Victrola and THX 1138 was on the TV. (There was no sound coming from the TV. The kids just wanted the visuals of the movie for atmosphere.) Everybody was smiling with glee at Quito's safe return, trying to figure out the doggy's plan of helping the world and chatting about Wanda's dubious invention.
     "I say, old chap, Is it really you?" asked redhead Prince Harry of The British Commonwealth who had never actually met Quito in person but had skyped with him on numerous times. He was there because he'd helicoptered into Shaker Heights to help look for the lost dog but was now sitting in an original, blonde, bent-wood Eames chair, chowing down on the bread crusts which had been trimmed away from the sandwiches while they were under construction, but of which he was fond.
     "I'm so glad to be home", arfed Quito in response. He was enjoying the pumpernickel sandwiches tremendously, though he still had a taste for Chicken Marsala. He decided to make some tomorrow.
     People weren't sure how to treat Wanda. They'd listened to Quito's plan for her to help him with his mission. But, they just couldn't get over what she'd done. That bad dog had put the children through misery, fear, fright and tremendous anguish. Nobody was sure they could get over it or forgive her. And they didn't seem to care much ether, though they tried not to make her feel uncomfortable. That would be rude and mean, almost like what she'd done to them and they didn't want to respond to one mean act with another mean act. So they were polite, but still... not quite themselves.
     "I got's ta admit, I gosh darn curious 'bout this 'vention of yourn which could transpert people ta diff'rent universeses. Does ya reckon I could see 't sometom?", asked Bill Gates, another person who flew in to help and was now scarfing down Fritos and French onion dip while sitting in an over-sized burgundy-hued leather wing chair.
     "Sure", responded the collie from seven feet away. (Everyone stayed a safe distance from Bill because he was wearing way too much Old Spice after shave, which he always did.)
     "Dude, I still don't get this plan of yours to use your powers to help people. I mean it's spiffy and totally tubular alright but how will you do it?" William asked that question.
     "I'm not sure yet. But I think it's why the universe saw fit to give me these powers. I don't think I got them by accident. I think I was meant to help people and with Wanda by my side, I should be okay. I don't know how to start, exactly. But I'll worry about that tomorrow."
     It was a very pleasant reunion and the only questionable incident came about when the three brothers moved all the parlor furniture into the hall, lifted up and removed the celery green carpet which exposed the shiny, slick, maple, parquet flooring, brought the furniture back in and rearranged it, all without asking permission. But it was an improvement, so people let it slide. 
     "Well, my, my, just look at the time? I do declare, I must be on my way, but I'm so glad that you're back home, safe and sound, Quito." Beyonce then placed her plate, with bread pudding crumbs on it, onto the antique, brass and glass cocktail table and excused herself amid shows of appreciation for arriving and helping to calm the kids.
     After that, the other guests also proceeded to leave and the house gradually calmed down a bit.

                       ******************

     Some hours later, Quito tucked in and kissed the children good night. He then put out Penny, the Maine Coon cat; turned off the Victrola, now playing Beastie Boys; left a note for the milkman to leave extra cheddar cheese and barked to himself, "how will Wanda and I  help people, anyhow? Hmmm... I'll ponder that tomorrow, I guess." Our hero contemplated his own existence for a while and then curled up on the L.L. Bean, evergreen scented, brown and green plaid, corduroy dog bed with extra fluffy padding and went to sleep.
     Who knew that tomorrow would answer it's own question?

     The End.

     Coming soon... The Adventures Of Quito And Wanda.

A Hair Trick #1 How to Absorb Less Chlorine

     Page Two Hundred Seventy.
     I really should have posted this trick at the beginning of summer, but, oh... well.
     The next time you go into a swimming pool, pre-wet your hair with tap water. Hair is like a sponge. It can only absorb so much liquid. If you pre-wet it with non-chlorinated water, then it can only absorb so much of the chlorinated. And there you go... less damage and less weird metallic-green color. If you live in the pool, you'll still have some weird color, but less.
 

The Bugatti Atlantic

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Nine.

     This blog entry REALLY has nothing to do with anything. But, that's okay.
     I was recently asked which piece of art in the world I wish I could own and keep in my living room. After thinking for a few minutes, I replied a Bugatti Atlantic. Commonly regarded as one of the most beautiful cars ever made, 3 are known to exist and if 1 went for sale tomorrow, it would bring $40,000,000 or more.

     And if I had one, I most DEFINITELY would keep it in my living room.
     By the way, the Bugatti in these photos in owned by Ralph Lauren and has won numerous awards at car shows. I've been blessed to see it in person at it was in the Cleveland Museum of Art in the late '90's for a Bugatti retrospective. 

Knute Rockne All American - A review

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Eight.

     Guess what movie I recently watched? If you guessed 1940's Knute Rockne All American, You're correct. My review? Here goes:
     It's really pretty good. But I LOVE sports movies, just love 'em. I don't typically enjoy watching sports on TV, but in movies? Can't get enough.The reason why is because sports flicks are always and I mean ALWAYS sentimental. And as I've written before, it's impossible for anything to be too sentimental for my taste. I believe sports movies are mushy because that particular brand of goo gives stereotypical, rough and tumble sports jocks an outlet to feel and express deep emotion. But no matter. I try not to judge.
     So then you toss is Ronald Reagan uttering his famous "win one for the Gipper". Yes indeedy, this is the movie which gave us that quote. Could the 1980's have existed without that line? I honestly don't think so. Regardless of how one may feel about Reagan, he was a thoroughly unexciting and unconvincing actor, which makes this film even more charming. One thing which did surprise me though is the shortness of RR's screen time. I bet we didn't see him but for five minutes. History would have us believe that he was s true co-star, which he wasn't.
     Pat O'Brien in the lead role isn't bad, allowing for the hamminess of that era's acting style, of course. (These were the days prior to "method acting" which is what modern audiences are used to.) All in all, it really is an entertaining flick.
     My review: 6/10

Fruit Salad Tricks

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Seven.
     Making a fruit salad soon? I have a trick for you which will push your concoction over the top.
     First make a little marinade consisting of a little bit of hot water, say 1/4 cup or so. I don't now really, but that sounds about right. Then add a little vanilla extract, almond extract and some white table sugar. Stir this for a moment and pour over your fruit. Let it marinate for a bit and enjoy.  
     Also, if you add some unexpected things to your salad it will be gobbled up like there's no tomorrow. Specifically, add some chopped dates; flaked, sweetened coconuts; and some chopped walnuts.

Quito. Chapter 16. Getting Home.

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Six.
     Wanda led Quito through the tiny door in the corner and up the small steps to the outside and into the bright, yellow sunshine.
     "Oh pish-posh, I don't believe this", Quito howled while looking around. He was in the beautiful, vivid, green side yard of the three brothers, next door to his own home. This entire time he was never more than 50 yards from the safe haven of his own hacienda. No wonder the odor was so distinctive. It was the same lemon-powered cleaning product they used. Or at least they used everywhere but in their basement which we've already established is an absolute disaster.
     "Your hideout is in their basement? Didn't they know you and your gang of hoodlums were down there?
     "No they didn't. Menatally, those three are out to lunch. While they've been renovating and re-renovatng their home for all these years, they never noticed the work I've been doing to clear out one room in their basement. My gang and I excavated the small steps and emptied then cleaned out that one area of their dungeon. We did all the work at night, by the light of the silvery moon." Wanda seemed very proud of herself.
     "You know, you're really a piece of work. If you put half as much energy into being nice as you do into being a menace to society, well... just imagine all the people you could help. With all your money, brains and energy you could donate to finding cures for illnesses, you could create scholarships to help children who can't afford school, you could help feed and clothe homeless people, you could do so many things to help this planet. But what do you do? You build a secret hideout with all this bizarre equipment to transport me to a parallel universe, which, by the way, I still need to hear the story of. "  Quito just couldn't get over her nerve.
     "Look here Quito, not everybody has had the breaks you have. Some of us had to resort to trickery just to survive. Don't ever judge someone 'till you've had to walk in their leash. Okay, fine. I'll admit that maybe I'm a little too evil sometimes. But that's no reason to accuse me of not caring for others. In fact, and, I'm surprised you didn't get this while you were mind probing me, I've set up an attractive retirement pension for all my hench-poodles and everybody else who works in my dental clinics. Not only that, but also every year I give all my employees a free case of turkey burgers at Thanksgiving and a gift card for $102.73 at Sunoco at Christmas. That's a lot more than many employers give out now-a-days. I know stories of great employees who get fired or who are forced to quit jobs just prior to receiving pension eligibility only because their companies want to save money from going to retirees. I don't do that. I'm an ethical employer. Why didn't you see that while you were violating my privacy with your ESP? HUH? So don't keep going on about my ruthless ways, you judgmental mongrel. You need to come down off your high horse a little" There was lightening and thiunder in her bark.
     Wanda was furious with what she saw as a double standard and she let him know it. She was more than happy to admit when she was being an evil, female dog, but she also wanted her credit too.
     Now, it was Quito's time to feel like a bad dog. "Sorry. I apologize." But he had no sincerity in his voice at all. Seems like our furry hero had a little problem with lack of humility. He thought he was perfect.
     Then they started screaming, fighting and howling at one another.
     "Look you num-nuts..."
     "Why you gopher nose..."
     "Don't even go there, bonehead..."
     "You monkey butt, you..."
     Then, in the middle of all this loud and ridiculous name-calling, which, quite frankly, wasn't getting anybody anywhere, "Quito! There you are!!! Good dog. Good dog." It was Judd. He was standing on the beige, sandstone terrace adjacent to his breakfast room, holding an antique parfait glass full of the best-looking fruit salad on the planet. It was rainbow-colored and even from the distance he was from the dogs, they could smell the luscious sweetness. It was topped with whipped cream and that white lusciousness set off the colors of the contents beautifully.
     Both dogs bounded the 10 feet over to Judd with tongues and tales wagging, hoping for morsels and treats. They seemed to forget that they were in the middle of a blow-out. Treats do that to a dog. (And some people.)
Continued next week... Chapter 17. The Reunion.

No, I'm Not That Old

     Two Hundred Sixty-Five.
     The other day, I was working in the museum when Harry and Sara walked by. I was their children's babysitter while in my late teens, prior to me being a live-in nanny. This was in the late '70's or early '80's. Sara was walking hand in hand with Jeffrey, her grandson. Mary and Christy are now how ever old they are, early 30's? When I worked with them, they were... well, Mary was a toddler and Christie was a newborn. And now Mary is a mommy herself.
     We all never completely lost track of each other through the years, but those are separate stories. I just looked at Sara and said, "No. This isn't possible."
     She replied, "Yes, it is". 
     I attempted to explain to little Jeffrey that when his mommy was his size, I was her babysitter. He kind of understood. I understand that I'm not that old.

An Emergency With A Twelve Year Old

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Four.
     About 5 years ago, I began nannying two pre-teen boys. At the time, they were about 8 and 11 or so. I picked them up from school, drove them to various appointments, then brought them home and sometimes made dinner, 2 or 3 X per week. At the end of the first year, Mom decided she didn't need me anymore, seeing the boys get older. So she graciously let me go.
     Boys went on strike until Jeremy was reinstated. So he was. That school year, I was there about 2 X per week. Then, Mom let me go at the end of that school year. Again, boys rebelled. Again Mom re-instated me "on call". That satisfied the boys. I've been on call ever since.
     Let's be honest. Sometimes, you simply need and extra set of hands. Even if you work from home, or have 2 parents in the home. You occasionally just need an additional person. So she'd phone me, knowing that I had other jobs and may or may not be able to help out. The last couple of years, I've helped them out  2-4 X per year.
     About 1&1/2 years ago, I even attended grandparents day at school, so Eli wouldn't feel left out. (Grandparents could be replaced by parents or any other important person in the child's life. Neither parent could make it. So Eli thought of me, and Mom phoned. Who am I to say no to that?)
     So, a month ago, Mom phoned and explained that she was catching a plane to North Carolina at 5PM on a day a couple of weeks later, while ex-husband was due back at 6PM from Philadelphia on that same day. Would I pick-up Eli at 4PM from day camp, hang out, go for dinner and drop him off at Dad's when he got home about 7? (Meanwhile, Max, the 16 year old brother, is away at camp for the summer, so he isn't part of the equation.) Of course I would. Great.
     Mom phones the morning of and says she's catching an earlier flight. Would I pick up Eli at 3? Sure.
     I pick him up and he's thoroughly confused by my early arrival, but gets over it quickly. We drive home to Chagrin Falls, watch The Howling which I've brought with me, (my rating: 4/10)  and begin thinking about food for dinner. Then all heck breaks loose. I begin getting texts concerning Dad's delayed flight. Seems some pesky storm is grounding flights. (Those storms have some type of nerve, don't they?) Both parents are concerned and I tell Eli what's going on. He's not too upset. Then, we go for dinner.
     There's an Italian place near Eli's homes where neither one of us has ever been. So we go there. He has Fettuccine Alfredo with chicken which is very good and I get the Chicken Marsala which is wonderful. Dad phones again saying it's not looking good. Mom phones again, frantic. I remind both parents that I was a live-in nanny for 10 years for two different families. Between 2 pre-school girls and 3 adolescent boys, there's no childhood emergency that I've not already encountered. This may be new territory for them, but not for me. So what if my 3 hour stint turns into 20? If I did have plans I'd change them. Eli's top priority now. That soothes both of them tremendously.
     Eli and I go get some ice cream and walk around gorgeous, downtown Chagrin Falls, Ohio. We have great fun. We go to CVS so I can purchase a toothbrush, some floss and some razors 'cause it looks like I'll be staying over. We go back home and watch Attack Of The Giant Leeches, another DVD I've brought with me (my rating: 2/10) and find out that, indeed, I will be staying the night.
     Eli's a smidgeon anxious, but really, not much. I stay in his room while he falls asleep and all is right with the world. I sleep in Mom's room and watch TV from bed which, for me, is a luxury. At 11.30, Max phones to say "hi Mom". Boy is he surprised to hear my voice.
     Next morning, I wake up way too early and begin making preparations for French Toast. I wake up Eli at a civilized hour, he comes downstairs and while waiting for me to whip up breakfast, step-mom phones from Paris where she's seeing the sites with 2 of her 3 adult children. They talk for a while. Then he comes and has his morning meal. He's quite happy with my fare (add vanilla extract and cinnamon to your egg/milk mixture the next time you do French Toast. It's wonderful. Also heat up the syrup. It will elicit squeals of delight.)
     Mom phones me during breakfast to say that dad drove in to Cleveland from Philly, arriving in Chagrin Falls about 5 or 6AM. Who knows when I'm off the clock? He'll phone me upon consciousness and then I'll drop of his youngest child.    
     He phones at 10. It all works out fine. When the dust clears, both parents were very grateful. I was glad to help. 
     I'll tell you what else. A few years ago when Max had his Bar Mitzvah, Mom had to REALLY lobby to get me invited. Dad and step-mom didn't quite grasp how fond their boys were of me. In a coupe of months,when Eli steps up and becomes a man in the eyes of his religion, I'll bet you a million dollars, I'll be invited with no hesitation.         

Cedar Point - A Review

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Three.

The Entrance circa 2005(?)

     I recently went to Cedar Point.  (One of the reason why I'm behind with my blogs. I lost a day there and a few days afterwards due to the recuperation process.) Let me tell you about it.
     I hadn't been to Cedar Point since the summer of '12 when I went with the real Thomas, Jackson, William and their father. (I was nannying that family at the time.) Dad felt he couldn't handle those three by himself so he asked for my assistance at Cedar Point, as well as at Great Wolf Lodge, an indoor water park ten minutes from CP, where we spent the next day. I had a blast. My job was to accompany William and do whatever he wanted. William, 8 years old at the time, and I were pretty much on the same exact page with almost everything, so we both had the time of our lives. (That's why I got him. Even though he's the youngest, he's the most fearless of the kids.)
     I didn't make it to CP last year, '13, but was determined to go this year. I asked, nay, bugged, many of my friends, but nobody could join me. Lost time from work, expense, fear of roller coaster, etc. were the excuses given. My friends just refuse to live on the edge. But then, a couple of weeks ago, I heard through the rumor mill that my nephew Michael and his girlfriend would be coming into town for a few days. Upon phoning him and confirming said rumor, I told him of my desires and he was totally on board. (You should know that Nephew Michael is one of this planet's all time coolest people.) I picked up Michael and Tricia from his sister's home (niece Heather and fiance Mark live very close to downtown Cleveland, 20 minutes from me) at 8.20 AM last Wednesday, July 9th and dropped them back off at  12.15 PM that night. I haven't been the same since.

     We walked into the entrance at exactly 10AM and exited at 10.50PM, driving out of the parking lot at 11.15PM. Though the park officially closes at 10, the CP law states that if you're in any line at 10, then you can proceed and drop to your death on that particular ride, regardless of how long the line takes, and we were in the 45 minute line for the Titanic Hindenburg 10,000 at 9.45. In a nutshell, we went on 23 rides, only taking 2 "picnic at the car*" breaks. We evaluated every single roller coaster in the park after riding it and took in 1 indoor show. We only purchased 1 food item, frozen custard, and 1 cup of pop. We probably walked about 5 miles by my best estimate and nobody got sunburned, thankfully.
     According to trade journals and amusement park enthusiast clubs, CP is considered the best amusement park on the planet and has been since the late '90's when those organizations began bestowing that honor. It really is over the top and aside from the extraordinary prices it is a great time.
     What's that you ask? Prices? Oh... do let me tell...
     Working at the museum, I got discount entrance tickets. Normally 60.00, I got ours for 45.00 which isn't bad. But then, there's the 15.00 parking, 4.00 for each of the two custards which we shared and 4.00 for the kiddie sized cup of pop. We figured out that the food prices in the park are roughly 3-4 X what they are outside the park, in the real world, or at least, Northern Ohio real world anyhow. (And for that ridiculous sum, the quality of the food isn't great. I find it greasy, and not in a good way and overly unhealthy, also, not in a good way. The custard is wonderful, though. That's why I wanted some. It's the world's best.) Being adults, we needed no souvenirs; so we didn't have to deal with that cost, thank heavens. God help budget-minded, middle-class parents when taking their little tykes to a place like this. Well, they simply can't do it.

     Overall, The ticket cost is somewhat reasonable, particularly if one can be had by the multitude of available discounts. But food and extraneous costs are shocking, so should be avoided at all costs. No pun intended.
     Concerning the rides: more fun than a barrel of monkeys. There are rides for all levels of fear: Cowardly Lion to Schwarzenegger and everything in between. Children's rides abound as do carnival-style games of skill and chance - another money killer which I avoid but I know some people like. There's also the petting zoo and numerous Broadway style shows. Plus, for the extra fee!, a water park and a couple of additional rides are adjacent to the park. There are enough things to do to last two days or even more. Which is why many choose to stay in one of the adjacent hotels and purchase a two day pass.
    Cedar Point is truly world class. Go sometime. My rating 10/10.



*My picnic cooler included:
freshly sliced:
roast beef
sliced pastrami
sandwich style pepperoni
honey-baked turkey
***
freshly sliced:
extra sharp cheddar
colby jack
swiss
***
1 pint of boiled shrimp
***
2 fresh loaves of bread:
challah
rye with seeds
***
1 quart of my homemade cole slaw
1 quart of my spicy, Mexican baked beans (I need to write that recipe in this blog sometime)
1 pint of olive medley (jumbo blue cheese stuffed, kalamata, pimiento-stuffed)

I pint of tomatoes - small heirloom variety)
1 pound of baby carrots
***

mayo
deli style mustard
steak sauce
shrimp sauce
***
2 pounds of fresh cherries
1 quart of dried fruit
1 quart of deluxe mixed nuts
***
2 bottles each:
Frosty brand root beer
Frosty brand blue cream soda
Goya brand ginger beer
Mexican-made Coca Cola (Mexican is made with cane sugar, not high fructose corn syrup)
***   
1 pound of peanut brittle
***
     I spread the blanket out on the ground between my car and the neighboring one. Then, I propped up a large umbrella and balanced it on the 2 corresponding side view mirrors, for shade.  Ms. Stewart herself couldn't have done finer, if I must say so myself.

Chicken Marsala

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Two.
     Ever taste Chicken Marsala? Wow! It's good. I hadn't had any in a couple of years, but I had some recently. Oh my gracious, it was delicious. It's not really too difficult to make either. This recipe serves 2-4 depending upon how polite, large, hungry, old or picky your guests are. Of course you can double the recipe, or even triple it. But if you do, you may need to saute the chicken in batches.
                INGREDIENTS:
     two boneless, skinless, chicken breasts
     flour (1/2 cup?)
     salt
     butter (4 tablespoons?)
     olive oil (a few tablespoons?)
     one pint of mushrooms, sliced
     some Marsala wine (1 cup?)
     parsley to garnish, if desired

DIRECTIONS:

     First, carefully slice each flat breast across into two thin cutlets. Set aside.
     Then, mix some flour with a few pinches of salt in a pie plate.
     Then, dredge the cutlets in the flour and set aside again.
     Then melt the butter in a large saute pan over medium high, but not too high, and add the oil.
     Then, fry up the cutlets, until golden, being careful not to burn. Move the cutlets as little as possible, a few minutes on each side should do it.
     When the chicken is lightly browned, add mushrooms and saute for an additional moment or two until 'shrooms begin to brown.
     Then, pour in enough wine to cover, bring to a boil, turn down heat to simmer, cover and let cook 10(?) minutes 'till reduced a bit and chicken is nice and tender.
     Just too tasty to be true, but indeed, it is true.
     Serve, garnished with fresh parsley, next to broccoli or what-have-you. In Italian places this is often served with Fettuccine Alfredo, but that's just too heavy for my taste. You do whatever you want. Enjoy!!!