I’ll begin with the planet piece, as in “what planet are you even from?” So, there was this party of five who wandered in from Lark Fest seeking a table. They were neat in appearance and seemed reasonably intelligent. Their preference was for a table on the back patio, but unfortunately we did not have one available to accommodate 5. They were given a table inside and served water. Three members of their party had stopped at the bar for drinks prior to sitting.
Imagine my surprise when, a few minutes later, I went out to the patio and saw one of the women from the 5-top pushing tables together. When I asked her if someone had told her it was ok to do that she said, “No.” I explained the reason she wasn’t given permission to move tables was because it wasn’t, in fact, ok for her to take it upon herself to do it. I asked her to return to the table we had already provided for her and assured her that I would get to work on creating a comfortable spot for them.
I was able to combine a couple of tables, carefully arranging the chairs, without causing the rest of the patio to be “unservable.” I invited the group outside and explained the need to leave the chairs as I had arranged them to keep the remaining tables accessible. Naturally, no sooner had I turned around when one of the women had moved her chair to the precise spot which would prevent anyone from sitting in the two tables behind her, in effect taking up 4 tables for a total of 5 people. Seriously?
PS. We served a single glass of $8 wine to the table. Really.
Up next: the (Jake)Moon
My middle son is wrapping up his middle school academic career in a couple of weeks. There are a few events to commemorate the occasion, including a day trip to NYC, later this month. When I was in 8th grade, we also went to the city. I remember it vividly because I saw my first Broadway musical, Grease, and wore the brown sweater coat (the height of fashion in 1980!) my mother knit for me. It was a special day.
On Friday, he brought home the permission slip which detailed the itinerary for their day. Basically, they depart from Albany at 6:30 in the morning, returning at approximately 9:30 p.m. Their first stop is midtown where they have 2.5 hours scheduled at Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum. From there they head to the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch. I understand that not every kid has parents who believe in authentic experiences which reflect their locale, but doesn’t this sound incredibly generic? Is there anything about this that screams “greatest city in the world” to you?
But, wait, it gets better. The kids then head down to the South Street Seaport – and this is the part that really rankles me, where they have 3 hours to wander around, using the “buddy system.” Now, I’m sure (right?) there will be adequate supervision of the kids, but this segment of the trip, the lengthiest one, is completely unstructured. In the description provided on the permission slip, this cool, but small area, was heralded for its “mall and 15 places to eat.” Really?!? I’m sending my kid to New York to go to a mall and eat at some chain restaurant?
I’m pretty familiar with the downtown area where the kids are going to be. The Brooklyn Bridge and the World Trade Center are right there. Why aren’t they bringing the kids to either of these free, yet, significant places? Maybe a ferry ride to Staten Island? There’s so much history in that area! How about Chinatown, Little Italy or the Tenement Museum, all of which are included in the 8th grade social studies curriculum?
Is it just me, or is this a true example of missed opportunity and lack of effort in planning? What do you think?
Last week was a weird week in the news. I mean like the kind of week when I almost feel ready to abandon reading anything beyond cooking and fashion magazines so I have a prayer of staying in my happy place. Are they going to print those upbeat type of glossy publications on Hearst’s new press?
Ever since I saw this story on the TU website I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. I understand that these accidents occur with far too much frequency, but for reasons I haven’t quite grasped yet, this one has really had an impact on me. My God, did you see the car? It doesn’t seem possible that someone could have survived that crash and I’m left wondering what the future holds for the driver of that vehicle. How many times will he wish for a do-over, for the chance to take it back and do it all again differently? As a parent, I’m tempted to begin printing out accident scene pictures and the related obituaries and start wallpapering my boys’ bedrooms with the consequences of bad decision-making. I’m scared and my heart aches for the families involved who both lost their children that morning, because I’m certain the young man who was driving that car will never be the same.
And how do you feel about the smoke story? No, not the Pope Francis thing, this one. Apparently, Assemblyman Steve Katz, an opponent of legalizing medical marijuana, has no personal problem with getting blazed and speeding up the NYS Thruway – at 10:00 a.m, by the way. Perhaps he is anti-medical marijuana because he understands it won’t cure the severe case of hypocrisy he appears to be suffering from. What a jerk. Throw him out of office and let him wake and bake on his own time.
If marijuana could in fact cure hypocrisy, maybe Rob Portman has been indulging in the wacky weed, too. Seems that now that his own son is at risk of being denied basic civil rights because he is gay, Portman has had a change of heart in his consistently anti-gay marriage stance. I don’t really understand why his son’s life and access to the benefits of marriage are somehow more important than the millions of other gay Americans who have been denied access to wedded bliss. I’m sincerely glad he’s changed his position, but I’m even more glad that I could never imagine believing that my own child’s opportunities are somehow more valid than those of anyone else’s child.
I’ll go back to my Bon Appetit now.
I hate what people use guns to do. Guns scare me, but I don’t hate them. Today, more than two dozen people were massacred in a(nother) school shooting. Twenty-seven people, including 20 children, woke up today for the last time. I went for a run tonight and thought of the terror that was school today for those children and adults in Connecticut. Each time I imagined the fear those children must have felt, I gasped anew, feeling my heart nearly stop with my exhale. Horror.
I couldn’t post today about the 12 Days of Dining DelSo. How could a person even consider a holiday season on a day like today? This day belongs to those lives lost.
Random thoughts on a rainy Sunday -
Highway driving makes me insane. There are three behaviors that I do not understand – driving in the left lane if you’re not passing, not turning your lights completely on during the rain and using your brakes repeatedly. Insane, I tell you!
Last night’s run was perfect. Of course, my simple definition of perfect* is: more than I expect. It was longer, slower, more of my favorite songs played as I listened to a long ignored playlist. I repeatedly had to remind myself that the focus was distance, not time. Slow down and breath. It was great.
You know how people talk about meeting their soulmate? Their other half? Is there such a thing as “soulmate” or a person who absolutely fills each and every void we possess? By the way, I don’t think they’re the same thing, and one of them seems a bit more plausible to me, but I’m not subscribing to this set of expectations. I think that the right person, for me, is the one who will make me shine, who will polish what’s already present with attention and love. And this seems not only more realistic, but more desirable, to me.
*Did I mention I have high expectations – myself included?