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.