Mired in Stalemate.

Liam, now 19 months, is displaying all the endearing qualities of a caged hyena. When he gets frustrated (which is all the time!)he totally loses it. He'll bang his head on the wall or floor, shout, cry, kick his feet... you get the idea. I'd like to be able to say I have no idea where he gets it from. But that would be a lie. I'll admit he gets his temper from me. My fuse is so short you'll likely lose your hand just lighting it.
As penance I spend my waking hours simultaneously feigning a grin and taking deep breaths. See, Liam will not sit in grocery cart for more than 30 seconds, and the belt is useless, he can slip right out of it. Same thing with those nasty wooden high chairs all restaurants have. I have a sneaking suspicion that the brains behind that design were from a childless twenty-something male. Had a woman been assigned to that project the end result would be stylish and self-cleaning with a straight jacket style restraint to ensure your lovable little Houdini stays put until your finished eating your meal. Fine dining establishments might sport the "The Luxury Edition" A highchair fully enclosed in sound proof Plexiglass so that you aren't riddled with guilt over ruining every other diners experience.


I really miss dining out.

Anyway...

Here are a few fun things that happened today.

I'm watching a re-run of Greys on lifetime. Its the episode where Denny dies. I cant believe I'm watching it again because it was heart wrenching the first time. So we are at the part where the interns rush to Denny's room to find Izzy laying in the hospital bed with him. She's calm until her friends tell her they need to move him to the morgue, then she breaks down. And I'm sobbing right along with her. I'm sitting there folding the laundry crying at the TV when I hear a slight chuckle. I look over to see Liam staring squarely at me, laughing. HE IS LAUGHING AT ME! No lie.

I gave Liam a water bottle about a quarter full of water. He's at that phase where he wants to be a big boy and drink out of the same containers we do, without help. So I let him, you know, every once in a while. Its what a good mother does right? I'm supporting his independence. So he's traipsing around the dining room holding that water bottle practically parallel to the ground but so what. Its only water. Then I hear: splat, splash, trickle, drip. I look over and he's dumping the water onto the power supply cord to my laptop. I race over yelling, NO, LIAM, NO. CRAP! I take the bottle from him, and shoo him into the other room. He's looking back at me as he toddles off. As I attempt to unplug the cord sitting in a puddle of water I assume he's out of earshot and I drop an F bomb under my breath. No sooner does that word leave my lips and Liam is right next to me, shaking his hands in front of him in mock frustration. And then he says it, just as I did. Somewhere between a groan and a whisper: "Faaah." Nice mommy, nice.

I had to pick up a few things at the market so I put Liam in the cart and gave him a dumb dumb lollipop. But Liam doesn't just lick the lollipop, he makes love to it. He wont just keep in in his mouth he's got to take it out every few seconds and handle it. He sticks in on his arm, neck, cheek and then he takes it one step too far and puts it in his hair. It gets stuck. We are in the store, I'm trying to pick out a proper pineapple and Liam has a lollipop stuck to his head. Whats worse is that this totally pisses him off. So he pitches the mother of all fits because he was really enjoying that lollipop and now... not so much.

I had just finished cleaning up the kitchen from dinner, Liam was playing with the farm magnets on the fridge and making cow sounds over and over. I glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was already 8:00 pm, so I casually said "wow Liam, its already bedtime." Without missing a beat he put the magnets back on the fridge and headed for the stairs saying "nigh-nigh." This is the first time he had said "nite-nite" to me and I was overjoyed! Not only because he's using a new word but because he listened to what I said and responded. Amazing.


That, right there, makes all the other struggles, SO worth it.

5 things I learned on my Summer Vacation

1. The weeks leading up to your vacation will move at a snails pace while your vacation days will go whizzing by you so fast your skirt will fly up.

2. I don't hate the south. I just really love the north. More specifically: the mountains in autumn, snow in the winter, being able to spend most of the day outdoors in the summer. For all of these I will sacrifice spring and endure mud season.

3. My skinny jeans and I are thankful that Freihofers Sourdough bread and chocolate chip cookies ARE NOT available in the south. Man did I stuff my face with Freihofers on vacation.

4. I really don't enjoy traveling by car as much as I thought I did. We spent 5 of the the ten vacation days in the car for 5 hours or more. It just feels like a waste of time especially with a bored to screaming with tears toddler in the backseat. From now on I'm flying. Chris and Liam can meet me there.

5. Being with family is salubrious. I NEED these people in my day to day life.

Goodbye at Bog River Falls

"We only part to meet again."

Buying the stairway to a new CD

In 1991 when I was a freshman in high school my parents joined the Columbia House Music Club. They had some new membership deal wherein you buy one selection of your choice and then you get to pick out ten more for just a penny each, plus shipping and handling. My parents intended to expand their classical music collection but I had other ideas. I was tired of having to record my favorite songs off of the radio. On any given night I'd be sitting in my room writing in my journal or cutting out magazine pictures of Andre Agassi or Joe Montana when I would hear the first few notes of a song like Stairway, or fade to black; I would leap from my bed and run to my dual cassette player to press both the record and play buttons simultaneously. The end result was a mix tape full of my favorite songs, all without the opening bars.
So when my parents agreed (after badgering them, almost to their deaths) to me picking out 3 albums I knew they had to be BIG ONES. Ones that I would both enjoy and win "cool points" for should anyone see me loading them into my sony walkman. the yellow one.
After pouring over the Columbia house music catalog for hours I had finally made my selections: Led Zeppelin Four, The Doors Greatest Hits and Rolling Stones Flashpoint. Add them to my Michael Jackson, Madonna and Fine Young Cannibals cassettes and I had quite an eclectic collection.

Relevant Sidebar: Cindy and I actually arranged to buy eachother the FYC tape for Christmas the year before. We both wrapped and put pretty bows on it and when the exchange took place in my kitchen we squealed and hugged each other with an excitement only two silly girls can have on such an occasion. I loved her like the best part of myself. And deep down, though we are on separate coasts and separated by a distance time often delivers, I still do.

Through the years my collection grew and grew and over time with the introduction of the CD, cassettes became obsolete. So then it was barely noticed when one was broken or lost in a move. However, one of the original three managed to stick with me, until today.


Today I say goodbye to my Led Zeppelin Four cassette. The last of its kind. Although the hour of entertainment that old thing gave my boy made it so much less bitter than sweet.

So shines a good deed in a weary world..

This never happens. But sometimes it does.

Tuesday night at Tupelo's is Wine Night. 50% off all bottles of wine. Its a hell of a deal and people pile in through the doors every Tuesday. Last night was no exception. We had a slow start but once we filled up, we stayed that way until the sky opened up and unleashed a huge thunderstorm that caused flash flooding all over our little town. In a matter of minutes Churton Street became a class 4 rapid river. I wished for a raft.

My story begins 40 minutes or so after closing. The restaurant was mostly empty except for a few table campers, folks whom had long since paid their bill and were now just enjoying each others company and conversation. Those of us employed there were buzzing around like bees to a hive, each one knowing exactly our chore. The bartender was stocking the bar, servers were rolling silverware for the following days lunch service and cleaning up the wait station. The kitchen staff had their arms elbow deep in soapy buckets scrubbing chrome and tile while the dishwasher was barricaded in his station by a mound of silverware, stacks of glass racks and dishes. I was wiping down tables and preparing to put the chairs up in the main dining room when I heard a knock on our glass front door. I walked over, curious, and opened the doors to see two women standing before me.

"Can you take two more, Please?" One of the women asked.
"Oh Ladies, I'm sorry, are you here for dinner?"

They both nod at me.

"I'm afraid the kitchen is closed, the grills are off and I'm pretty sure most of the food has been wrapped and put away. But let me run and double check with my manager, please come in and just wait right here a second."


Let me just take a second to explain what an anomaly this is. Not the people showing up after closing; people try to sneak in to eat after closing all the time, and time after time we have to turn them away. Not because we are hateful or lazy but because we are closed, the food had been put away and the employees are now busily doing the hours of work required to prepare for tomorrow and shut down for the night. If you pop your head in at closing or even 5 minutes after closing you'll likely be offered at least salads or appetizers but 40 minutes after closing its a wonder, a flat out oddity that I even considered letting them in. But I did.

So I run to the back and find my manager, I tell her about the ladies at the door and basically ask if we can serve them desserts and coffee a consolation prize, of sorts. She says of course.

When I return to the front of the house to offer the women dessert and coffee they immediately ask: "Can we have dessert and wine?
I smile and say "Of course, did you know its wine night?"

I seat them at one of my tables in the bar area all the while they are thanking me for letting them in. As it turns out they were on their way home to Virginia when the storm hit and decided to pull off the highway and get a hotel room for the night. They opt for a bottle of Chardonnay and a Creme Brulee. They sip their wine and share their Brulee but one of the ladies is visibly upset. Shes crying, quietly, into her napkin while her friend caresses her arm and softly speaks words of comfort. I didn't mean to but as soon as I saw her tears I began to eavesdrop, nonchalantly. She had just lost her brother or her mother, I missed the first syllable. The funeral had been yesterday. and now she was just supposed to go home and go back to work and go on... living. How was she supposed to do that? She didn't know how to do that. I didn't know how she was going to do that either. But I knew she would.
I stood there at the computer and thought about how sensitive I was in the first weeks after my sister's passing. I was weakened by the thought if the world just going on and on without ever stopping to take note of my heartache. My first shift back to work was the most difficult. I had a customer who had ordered a chicken club sandwich with no bacon onion or bun. What came out of the kitchen was a chicken breast with cheese lettuce and tomato, just what she had ordered. Upon seeing her dinner she let out a heavy sigh and looked at me: "This has cheese on it."
"Yes, ma'am. it does."
"I didn't want cheese, didn't I tell you I didn't want cheese?"

She's obviously annoyed with me. She thinks I'm incompetent. I offer to take her plate back and have the kitchen "fix it" when her husband chimes in telling her to just scrape the cheese off. She's poking the chicken breast with her fork contemplating her options and in my head I'm screaming:
ARE YOU KIDDING ME LADY, ITS A SLICE OF CHEESE! MY SISTER JUST DIED FROM CANCER AND YOUR GIVING ME A HARD TIME ABOUT A FUCKING SLICE OF CHEESE, IF THAT'S YOUR BIGGEST PROBLEM CONSIDER YOURSELF LUCKY, SHUT UP AND EAT YOUR DAMN CHICKEN.
Of course this woman had no idea of what I was going through. I like to think if she did she would have adjusted her attitude in some way. And for all I know this woman could have been dealing with some major hardship herself. Maybe that was why she got all ornery over a slice of cheese. Or maybe she just really hates cheese.

The ladies at my table pay their bill and stand to leave. As I'm thanking them I give the grieving woman and knowing sort of half smile. She says "You have been very kind, thank you for not turning us away." It struck me as as quite a coincidence that this woman and her friend ended up in our town, at our restaurant at my table grieving over the loss of her loved one. Maybe it wasn't a coincidence at all. Maybe it was a reminder to treat others tenderly, because you never know what kind of hand their life just dealt them.

Going Comando

Nothing much new to report on the home front. I'm closing in on my last few weeks of working a routine schedule until the fall (sad!) and we are gearing up for our summer vacation to NY in two weeks. I'm stock piling travel toys in dreaded preparation for the 16 hour trip. We are breaking it up, theres no two ways about that. First we will spend a few days in Rhinebeck visiting Chris's side of the family and then on up to the Adirondacks to visit with my side. I'm particularly excited to get back to the ADKs because its been something like 8 years since I was last up there. Growing up we used to go several times a year, I can imagine it will feel like a homecoming. Once our car crosses over into familiar territory I'll begin to feel the butterflies of excited anticipation. I love that. I'll get to point out personal landmarks to Chris: "When Cindy and I were 16 we hitchhiked this road home from the bog with boys we had just met. And there is the bar where my sister, Leslie, and I hustled some trash talking Foosball players for a round of beers. Over there, on that corner was Mandy's Moldy Maggot Market, a little penny candy store we used to raid for tootsie pops and Charleston chews that had been sitting on the self since Nixon was in office. And there! There is the campground where our whole family, cousins, aunts, uncles and all set up the Hodge-Mitchell compound and camped every summer I was in high school. And this, this is the lake. The lake where, the last time I was here, I lay on a blanket with my sister, Kimmy, under the stars and watched the Northern Lights."

Liam will be meeting a legion of family members for the first time, his aunt, uncle and cousins in Rhinebeck and then my aunt, cousins and second cousins upstate. Just in time to make a lasting first impression Liam has a new party trick; he's learned how to take his diaper off! The implications of this are manifold. So far we have managed to avoid a fecal disaster, but our days are numbered.

5 Things You Need to Know

My first job in the hospitality industry was the summer of '91 At the Topnotch Resort and Spa in my home town. My very best friend and partner in crime (literally), Cindy and I had applied for the position of "buser" and we both got the job. What that manager was thinking when he made that decision, I will never know. All that summer Cindy and I drove to work, dreary eyed and half asleep at something like 5:30 in the morning, when it was still black as night. Most of the details of that job I don't really remember. I do remember that it was busy all the time, that the people who's plates we cleared away wore pressed chinos and polo shirts, loafers with tassels and big sun hats, that I delivered room service to Billy Ray Cyrus when he was in town for the Stowe mountain summer concert series and that he gave me a dollar tip like he was doing me a big favor. Since that job busing tables at Topnotch I've been a server, in both the seediest and the nicest restaurants around, a hostess, a bartender and a manager. I think the only position I haven't held down in a restaurant is behind the line. And I'm not ruling that out for the future. Little did I know that that first job would lead me down a food service path to a job that I truly enjoy. But as with every job there are, exceptions. Things you cant control. And when you're in customer service, that thing is the customer. So this post is for you, customer.
Whether you've never held a job in the industry (although it should be a mandatory requirement for graduating high school) or you're just in your own little world the following is, in my opinion, the top 5 things you need to know about the restaurant business. Read, absorb and adhere. Please.



1. Do not let your child run free through the restaurant. Period. It not only impedes effective service but it is very likely that your child will get hurt. I know that it is nearly impossible for most toddlers to sit in their chairs and color for longer than ten minutes. I know that rather than having him swipe everything within reach off the table and onto the floor all the while shrieking with frustration you thought I'll just let him play under the table for a few minutes. Except he can't play quietly under the table for more than 3 minutes and the next thing you know he's weaving and dashing around the tables like its a super G course. Not okay. In any successful establishment there are people moving quickly with heavy trays of hot food. They are focused on a running list of all the things they need to do in the next 5 minutes and they are most certainly not looking at their feet to see if you have given your child the run of the place. Unless the restaurant you are in has a stuffed rat roaming around or a jungle gym in the middle of the dining room keep your son or daughter properly seated at the table.

2. The host/hostess isn't lying to you. When you walk into a restaurant (without a reservation) and are told there is a 30 minute wait for a table, but you can see empty tables,please know those tables are not available, they are being reserved for people who had the forethought to call ahead and make a reservation. Also, when you walk in the door and put your name on the list and someone walks in after you but gets seated before you, they likely called ahead. Which means when they were in the car on their way down to the restaurant they "called ahead" to put their name on the wait list. So don't jump all over your host(ess) assuming he skipped over you. Instead you might politely ask: "Do you accept call ahead seating? Is that what the couple that was just seated did?" You will be amazed and how well received you'll be. Now, that said, also know everyone makes mistakes and sometimes you will get skipped, especially if there is more than one host working the podium. All it takes is one little line through your name and you've been skipped. To prevent this, if the hostess tells you its a 15 minute wait at 15 minutes check in with them to see where you are on the list. There should only be one or two names ahead of you at this point.

3. Here's a tip for ya: If you cant afford to properly tip your server, you should be ordering your dinner from a counter. Tipping less than 15 percent is not acceptable. Now before you get your panties in a bind I'm not suggesting leaving 20 percent if you've received poor service. If your water glass has been sitting empty all meal or you've been given the wrong entree or you just plain hate your entree and your server doesn't bother to check on you, or if you get attitude from your server, like its obvious they'd rather be doing anything but waiting on you. Fine, leave whatever you deem appropriate, but did you know servers make just a little over 2 dollars an hour? Yes, that's right, two dollars an hour. They depend on your generosity to pay their bills and buy groceries. On a slow night they might not even make minimum wage. Of course on a good night they will more than make up for that slow night, but that all depends on you. So if you can, leave that extra dollar or two, you may not even notice it but it just might make your servers night.

And here's the scoop on automatic gratuity: Most restaurants automatically add gratuity for parties of 6 or more. This is because:
a. Larger parties take up more tables. Your large party might be one of only a few tables your server gets that shift especially if your reservation is at, say, 7:oopm. Your large table will likely not get seated before you and depending on how long you stay, might not get seated after you either.

b.Large parties require more of the servers time. Taking drink, appetizer and dinner orders for 6 or more people can sometimes be annoying. Certain people are ready to order while others are not: "skip me and come back to me last..." Split checks: "I'm on a check with him and her and shes on a check alone but we want to get the wine and she's going to buy the appetizers but the desserts are on that guys bill... etc. You see where I am going? All of this takes time. The time your server spends on you is time she is not spending on her other tables, if she has them.

Related rant: Last week I had a party of 4 people, two couples. They were wonderful; they ordered appetizers for the table, everyone asked questions about our entrees and accepted my recommendations for wine and beer. After opting for after dinner drinks over dessert they ask for the bill. One check; music to my ears. As I drop the bill on the table I hear one of the gentleman say: "I've got the bill, you leave the tip." Shit! shit, shit, shit. The bill was $125. The tip was five, shiny, Sacajawea gold dollar coins. And the thing is, this guy thought he was being generous. He was really excited to give these away. I cant even buy a pack of diapers with that shit. Luckily I had numerous other tables that night so one poor, I mean really poor, tip didn't break my earnings. So, yes, the autograt, its a good thing.

4. If the sign on the door says that we are closed, we are closed. And while it may be hot outside or you might be tired of standing, unfortunately, you cannot come inside and wait until we are "open." Why not? Well, two reasons: first, think of a restaurant as a stage and the employees the players. There are some things that go on behind the curtain that you, the audience wouldn't want to see, simply because it would take a way from the experience you came for. Polishing flatware and glasses, folding linens vacuuming and swatting flies; its all apart of the show's preparation. You may not want to see us at the front door swatting flies but you're happy when your sitting at your table not noticing the lack of flies buzzing about. Second: We don't want you in here, nothing personal. The time before opening is our time to get ready both physically and mentally. We turn the music up loud, we sing, we dance, we talk shit and we prepare to spend the next 5 hours serving you. If you're waiting inside, well, we'd be remiss to not smile and welcome you in, offer you a glass of water or a menu to look at while you wait. All of that is serving you, before we are ready to. So please, just take a walk and come back, it will be worth the wait.

5. We are human. And as such we will make mistakes. We work really hard on NOT making them so that you will have the kind of dining experience that will keep you coming back, but like I said, fallible... So these slip ups, they happen and whether its a small mistake (I brought you sweet tea instead of unsweetened) or a large one (I got distracted and forgot to put your order in), whether its the kitchens fault (your steak came out medium rare rather than medium) or its the diners fault (you didn't fully read the menu description to see that the fish you ordered is served fried) You need to tell us that you are dissatisfied. Speak up because if we don't know you're unhappy, you will likely stay that way. And neither of us want that. So when your server comes back to check on you, tell them you'd prefer to have the steak put back on the grill for a few more minutes. Although it is our job to know when you're just pushing the food around the plate rather than eating it, we do get busy and it can go unnoticed. Once you tell us what you're unhappy with we will do our very best to make up for the mistake. Oh, and please don't wait until you've finished the meal. If you've eaten it, you're paying for it. Of course, you have the final say when you leave that tip on the table. But its hardly fair to short change your server because of your lack of communication.

This has been a public service announcement. I will now step down from my soapbox.