TIPS SPELLED BACKWARD IS SPIT

The summer before last, a business networking luncheon was held inside an Italian bistro. Unfamiliar with the address, I went for a dry run. It was off-season and lunch hour was winding down. So I decided to stay for a relaxed meal. Only 2 couples remained and they soon left. After bringing me water and a menu my waitress disappeared never to be seen again. -- I thought she had been swallowed up in a sink hole!

As I began to feel cobwebs forming around me, I pulled out my car keys to leave. A man with a broom emerged and started sweeping. I called him over and asked him fetch my waitress! He insisted upon taking my order himself, without writing it down. Ugh! Another LONG wait ensued. Well, you guessed it! I received something different than ordered. I complained, but because I was so hungry I ate it.

When it came time to pay, I was given a coupon for a free entree. However it only applied to the one I never received. 

At the luncheon, I learned that the waitress who had abandoned me was actually the owner’s wife! Geez, since this was a family-operated business you’d think she would have been more conscientious.

Later, when I returned for my free entree, I was curtly informed by an older waitress that this particular dish was now only available on weekends. They could not honor my coupon unless I returned then. I asked if the coupon could be applied to an entree of similar value. “No!” she snapped. “You’ll have to come back on the weekend!”

Considering how badly they messed up, they should have been more flexible! Plus the place was expensive! Italian cuisine is among the cheapest to make. And this was a little hole-in-the- wall establishment with zero atmosphere inside a run-down shopping plaza. 

Believe it or not, a local food critic gave it a glowing review in her column. I fired off an email to her relating my experiences. The food was ordinary and over-priced, plus the service was crappy! That place was hardly special!

My father used to say that when he worked for the mortgage corporation he saw more restaurants go belly-up than any other business. The chains are just too much competition for most Mom & Pop places. Personally, I’d rather eat in a chain restaurant. You get more value for your money. Plus the food is usually better! I think perhaps more Moms & Pops should go to work for a chain.

Back when I was a young office worker, my mother would tell me never to tip waitresses because they raked in more money than I made. Of course I did, because I know they rely on tips. But I wasn’t always generous.

A waitress/part-time chef was a friend of mine. Every time we dined out together she would always run back and add to my tip. “I don’t mind paying extra for good service,” she would say.

Well neither do I! Except most service isn’t good, it’s just so-so. Unfortunately the vanishing waitress is far from rare. Often I wonder if there is a black hole to another dimension off the kitchen.

Never will I forget the beautiful restaurant overlooking the garden. But it’s memorable for all the wrong reasons. Tired of waiting for a coffee refill, I noticed a couple boiling pots partially hidden behind the counter, so I walked over and helped myself. Earlier, I was forced to lift silverware & cream from another table. When the solitary waitress finally emerged with my bill, I told her she might bother to stick her head in the dining area from time-to-time. She glowered at me as if she was about to shove a fork thru my throat! Needless to say, she received no tip.

Another NO TIP guarantee is to roll your eyes at me. It’s disrespectful!

My father never tipped more than 10 percent! Friends warned me that the restaurant staff was probably spitting, pissing, or blowing their noses in our food! If they did any of those things, it was not only because of his poor tipping. My father, in his older years, hated eating out.  

Dad absolutely refused to wait! If we were not seated immediately, he complained loudly. I’d turn beet-red with embarrassment. If a waitress was not standing by our table within in 5 seconds, he threatened to leave! I had to argue him out of it. If there was a long wait for our food, he’d blame me and yell that I ordered something too complicated. Our meals were seldom enjoyable.

However, there were things that annoyed us both, such as when the wait staff disappeared or seemed to be wearing blinders. Once I waved my napkin over my head like a lasso and still failed to get attention, at least from the wait staff anyway. I’ve noticed that service is usually better when a restaurant is crowded. When they are less busy, you’re more likely to be ignored.

There is no doubt restaurant work is hard and patrons can be stress-inducing. I think the employees should receive benefits and also be paid enough to render tipping unnecessary; hopefully it will weed out those with a poor work ethic.

PLAYING DEAD VS. STAYING DEAD

RESURRECTION the new ABC TV show is the type of program that gives me nightmares! There are too many deceased people that I NEVER want to see again! Now that I am alone, every day is a celebration. I want to ring bells, shoot off fireworks, and dance with wild abandon! I had forgotten what it felt like to be this happy. At long last I am free to be me!

Back in school, I read a famous short story by Jean-Paul Sartre. (Perhaps you read this one, too!) The tale concerns 3 people trapped together in a room for all eternity. They came to the conclusion that Hell is other people. – Truer words were never written! Life is so much sweeter when some people are just gone.

First and foremost is my mother. Her emotional abuse, theatrical crazy behavior, and physical battering to me as a child; make her my top favorite for staying dead.

Her funeral seemed surreal in a way. The service displayed a closed casket at her request. It made me wonder if she was really inside. I literally had nightmares over this! And worse, shortly after her death, a new movie was released called, HELLO AGAIN starring Shelly Long about a woman who returns to life after being dead and buried for a year. – I really didn’t need that!

My mother could put a damper on ANYTHING! Mom was a masterful joy-sucker. Whenever I left for vacation she would tell me, “Sooner or later you’re going to be killed in a plane crash, so be sure to buy Insurance at the airport. Name your brother as beneficiary, he needs the money.” Those were her exact words!

Oh and I’ll never forget her warnings to me as a grade-schooler, “When your husband beats you, don’t come running home because we don’t want you back.” – I heard this a lot, too! Usually after her fist made contact with my head.

Yeah, people tell me I should forgive her. Why should I, when I enjoy knowing she’s dead. And yeah, yeah, I’ve heard the argument that forgiving is courageous and not doing so is cowardly. -- This type of reasoning is naive and I’m going to tell you why.

If my mother, (God forbid!) was ever resurrected, that selective memory of hers would kick-in and she would deny everything! Then, if I threw smoking gun evidence in her face, she’d come up with all sorts of excuses. Such as, back then it was just discipline. (Punching, kicking, slapping, hair-pulling, pinching) Or that I was spoiled and deserved it! In other words, she would take no responsibility. In her mind, she did nothing wrong! – That was the problem!!! Forgiving someone like this just gives them license. 

Forgiveness must be earned, otherwise it is meaningless!!!

Also I’ve been told to let God or the universe handle people like that. Well aren’t WE the implements of God and the universe??? What do they expect, a lightning bolt to come crashing out of the sky and fry these people!

As to emotional and verbal abuse, Mom got back plenty of her own as I grew older. So don’t waste your time feeling sorry for me!

After my father’s passing, I did more extensive reading and research into the afterlife. I studied people whose spirits had left their bodies. Many had vastly different experiences. From what I gather, the afterlife consists of numerous levels and each one has layers.

I know there is something beyond this life because of firsthand experience with ghosts. In fact, I experienced a few hauntings shortly after my mother passed. These continue on and off today. I will blog about this later. I’ve been told I brought this on myself thru my explorations. Guess it’s similar to that Friedrich Nietzsche’s quote, “If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”

A psychic on Facebook claimed the average person has as many as 2000 spirits around them daily. Yikes! My house isn’t that big! Mine must be standing clear out in the street, probably jammed against others. (Imagine all that drama!)And what about when I go out in my car? Gadzooks, who’s in the back seat! And hot cat pee! Who’s sitting beside me! Maybe 6 can fit on the roof, perhaps 10 if standing. Are all the others hanging on and flying behind? Just imagine when I’m driving 60 MPH! – I hate crowds and drama. So forget that!

I may be wrong, but reincarnation makes sense to me. I believe we are all here to learn, lessons so numerous and complicated they can never be achieved in just one lifetime.

But if I had the power to choose, I’d want this life to be the last, or my only one. Just the thought of returning over & over again thru one millennia after another makes me exhausted. If I have to come back, I’d prefer another planet. This one is jerk world, probably the armpit of the universe.

There was a movie several decades back, (I forget the name) the premise concerned outer space aliens operating a mortuary. They would re-animate the dead and ship them off to another galaxy as slave labor. – I suppose that’s possible. It makes about as much sense as most religions.

I’m glad I’m to be cremated! I don’t want a monument to myself in some cemetery. After I’m dead they can throw my body into the swamp for the alligators to feed for all I care. Just make certain I’m 100 per cent dead, first!

I’ll continue to watch the TV show RESURRECTION. But if there’s ever a knock on the door and my mother is standing there in the flesh, I’ve got a wooden stake waiting for her!

UPENDED, OFFENDED, & UNFRIENDED

THREE PEOPLE HAVE UNFRIENDED YOU was the message that flashed across my computer screen. "ONLY THREE!" was my initial reaction. I've unfriended more people than that myself!

I've often joked that I was the last person to get on Facebook. I really wasn't crazy about the idea.  I'm not someone who enjoys socializing. I am also on LinkedIn which is strictly business and I prefer it that way.

On Facebook as with LinkedIn, many of my contacts are acquaintances I've met thru business networking events. But the majority consists of total strangers! Friend is a misnomer! Some I call faux friends, others I refer to as phantoms. Too many are just disembodied floating heads to the right of my screen. I may as well be gazing into a crystal ball and communicating with spirits. Images are there, but the actual person is a mystery. The spirit may be good or bad.

If I recall correctly, I have over 200 “Friends” yet only a small circle of about 4 to 6 are regular posters to my Timeline, 2 of those live in foreign countries. Actually I would be content with just those few. I'm always threatening to do a mass unfriending. (And I still might!) However, friends caution against it because I need exposure for my books.

Often I wonder how many are blocking me. Personally, I would never block anyone. I much prefer unfriending! My favorite targets are those annoying people who are after me to play games. (As if Facebook isn’t already a big time waster!) Also I deep-six those foreign men who are ringing me up within five minutes of accepting their invitations. I feel as if I’m being set up for something. I’m always suspicious when someone gets familiar too fast. My knee-jerk reaction is to push them off a cliff!

To be honest, I find most of the personal conversations, photos, etc. on Facebook boring. It’s the Community Pages that intrigue me. Many are filled with beauty and majesty. I could literally spend hours as a voyeur.   

Recently, I was unfriended by one in my small circle of regulars, a local person. At first it seemed out of the blue! But then I retraced my steps. I believe I know why! -- It was NOT over something I posted on my Timeline or theirs. It wasn't even something I said, but a poster on a Community Page that I marked as LIKE! And I know this was the reason, because wham, I was unfriended right after!

The poster that got me unfriended compared having a religion to having a penis. “It’s OK to have one,” it said, “even OK to be proud of it. But you don't go whipping it out in public or forcing it on children. “-- I thought this was hilarious! Also I agree!

The person who unfriended me, had religious proselytizing all over their Timeline. Not to mention ugly & hateful anti-Obama propaganda. This former friend was aware I voted for the man twice! I made no secret of that! Yet I always pretended never to notice even if it left a bad taste in my mouth! Plus I’m turned off by those who wear their religion like a cheap necklace.

My long-time dear friend Margaret had a religious streak. However, she was never fanatical about it. (Her Christmas cards were usually humorous.) But on occasion, she would quote scripture verses at me. And I would tell her to knock it off!

"But I want you to go to Heaven," she would say.

"How do you know I'm not? Are you God?" I'd snap back. "And how can you be so sure your religion is the right one? Perhaps after you're dead you might discover you've been worshiping the wrong god your entire life!"

There are plenty of religions out there. And every single one believes theirs is the ONLY true one.  And worse, no one is willing to consider the possibility they could be wrong. To quote Gandhi, "God has no religion." However, according to Christian beliefs, Gandhi is in Hell (He’s a heathen!) along with a lot of other good people.

Margaret and I disagreed on a variety of issues. We were as different as we were similar, yet our friendship was unconditional.

COMMUNISM & CAVIAR

The Sochi Olympics ended last month. However it’s the 1980 Moscow Olympics that hold special significance for me. I toured Russia back in the fall of 1979 as the Soviet Union was preparing for world-wide attention. St. Basil’s Cathedral was under restoration.

Earlier in September, Florida was hit by hurricane David. This was considered a minor category 1 hurricane, yet it did $20, 000. in damage to our home. --That was 20,000 in 1970’s dollars! Also we were without electricity for 8 days. We were one of the last homes to be restored.

I was told that Soviet hotels had substandard accommodations and were bugged. Plus the waiters in restaurants had dirty fingernails. But following the aftermath of a hurricane, I joked it would feel like the Ritz, regardless.

As I began packing for my trip, an international incident occurred at J.F.K. airport in New York. A ballet dancer named Alexander Godunov had defected. His wife remained on the plane. Authorities refused to allow its departure, waiting for Mrs. Ballet Dancer to join her husband. The wait was a long and tense one. She refused and returned to the Soviet Union a heroine.

My father urged me to cancel the trip! He warned that the Russians would retaliate against American tourists and I might not make it home. However, he had been against this from the start! Others told me I was un-American for even wanting to go there. These were the cold war years and they were the enemy.

But I knew I would hate myself for not seizing this opportunity. This was a great value, money-wise. Plus I traveled off-season which made it even cheaper. How could I not go?

Of course I heard plenty of horror stories! A lady I met at a social event had just returned. A couple in her group had the wrong entry date on their visa thanks to their travel agent. After landing in Moscow, they were carted off to a detention camp for 3 days. The American Embassy had to intervene to get them released. However, their trip was free as a result. Personally, I hope they sued that travel agent out of business!

My travel agent cautioned against wearing any extremes in fashion, because it would attract unwelcome attention.

Bags packed and paperwork in order, I flew from West Palm Beach to J.F.K. in New York. There I boarded Finnair. My 1^st stop was Amsterdam, a city I had visited just the year before. The 2^nd was Helsinki, and the 3^rd was my destination, Moscow. It had been an almost 15 hour journey in coach!

Stepping off the plane, my first sight was an armed soldier. Taking a longer look, he was just an awkward teenager. The outfit seemed to be wearing him. During the trip I saw numerous children in uniforms, often marching.

Inside the airport, our tour group had a chance to meet. Our hotel was directly across from the Kremlin. We joked that it was better for them to watch us. On each floor, an attendant was stationed to record our comings and goings. We were required to surrender our passports and were issued a card. 

This was my 1^st vacation with a roommate. I wasn’t thrilled over this, but it was strongly suggested by the tour company as they could not guarantee a private room in some of the hotels.

However, they did an excellent job of matching people up. My roomy was Nancy, a 29 year old advertising executive from New York. She was tall, dark-haired, and looked like a model. We both made bee-line for the mirrors whenever we returned to our hotel room! (I was 28 & blonde.) Our Moscow room was plain with a big picture window. We scanned the place for bugging devices.

At dawn every A.M. we saw the little old ladies in their babushkas sweeping the street. The younger women our age wore lots of make-up, even if they were doing construction work.

Breakfast always began with a tasty slice of cheese along with a glass of juice, followed by an enormous breakfast. ALL meals were included and they feed us well!!! We received a 3 course lunch followed by a 5 course dinner. I’m surprised that I didn’t return home 15 pounds heavier. However, like most escorted tours, they kept us on the move. There was a tremendous amount of walking.

Frequently at dinner, we were given a small dish of caviar. Most of the others didn’t like it, so it was divided up between my roomy and me. I loved spreading it thickly on hearty Russian black bread. I could have made a meal out of this!

Our 1^st day we toured Red Square in the heart of Moscow & the Kremlin, along with the many historical and architectural monuments and sights there in, such as the Kremlin Palace, the meeting place of the Soviet elite where official receptions were held. From the central square of the Kremlin, were 3 cathedrals. We toured each. The 1^st, the Assumption Cathedral where tsars were crowned, the 2^nd, the Annunciation Cathedral originally a private chapel for Ivan III and the 3^rd, Archangel Michael's Cathedral serving as a burial vault of the Russian Tsars and princes. 

Later, we toured the Armoury, Russia’s oldest museum. Also the famous Pushkin Museum filled with works by world famous artists.

Also we saw the Bolshoi Theatre and the Tretyakov Art Gallery. Plus the USSR Exhibition of Economic Achievement displaying 300 pavilions devoted to various Soviet industries. We took a memorable ride on the Moscow subway. Each station looked like a museum with art works, marble columns, and intricate mosaics.

We toured a Soviet Space Museum. A replica of the Sputnik satellite contained a stuffed dog. This represented the one that was sacrificed in the orbit. I remember watching the sky for it when I was 6 years old. I was never told the dog didn’t survive. Now I was sickened at the thought.

Several in our tour were approached by Russians who spoke of defecting. They were told NOT to come here unless they had a way of supporting themselves! A rough-looking Russian man approached an older woman in our group and asked her to go home with him and exchange clothes with his wife. Of course she didn’t!

It was not unusual to see 2 women or 2 men with arms locked or holding hands. We stared in amazement at 2 armed soldiers as they swaggered down the sidewalk holding hands. But the open affection between same sex people was not of a romantic nature, there.

Evenings in Moscow were busy as well. We attended a Russian night club with a floor show, a concert, and a costumed folk performance with Russian singing and dancing, plus a lavish opera with lots of scene-chewing.

Our gift shopping was done mostly in the Beriozka Shops at our Intourist hotels. This was a 3-stage process! After an item was selected, a salesperson handed over a receipt which you then gave to a cashier. After paying, he would stamp your receipt. Then you returned to the counter to pick-up your purchase.

Our last day in Moscow, we viewed the Lenin Mausoleum. Visited daily by thousands, the line stretched clear around several blocks. But it moved fast! Visitors weren’t allowed to stop and gawk at the Lenin cadaver. Armed guards hurried the line along. No cameras were allowed.

Lenin was almost a deity there, his image was everywhere! They even sold statues of him in all the gift shops. I joked that we should buy up a bunch to give as gag gifts to all our friends at Christmas.

It was also illegal in the USSR to snap someone’s picture without their permission. So we had to be careful.

The Soviet Union spanned so much territory that we did as much traveling by airplane as by bus. And let me tell you, some of those Soviet planes were such old clunkers, we feared for our lives when boarding them. Now we were off to Kiev the capitol of the Ukrainian Republic and the 3^rd most important city in the USSR. Kiev was a picturesque city. To see recent photos of it fire-bombed and charred is sad.

Our 1^st outing was a cruise on the Dnieper River, followed by a tour of Tsarina Elizabeth’s palace, later more cathedrals, another costumed folk performance, and of course more caviar! Also we toured the Monastery of the Caves where we went down into the catacombs to view human bones.

The last day there, we traveled to the Babi Yar Killing Ravine where the largest single Nazi massacre occurred during WWII. The ravine was enormous, a chilling sight. Afterward, we toured an art gallery displaying the most graphically violent paintings I have ever seen! From what I see and read in the news, Kiev’s violent history continues today.

Next we boarded a plane to Simferopol, capitol of the Crimea. From there we took a motor- coach to Yalta at the most southern tip of the Crimean Peninsula on the Black Sea. The drive was breathtaking! This is truly one of the most exotically beautiful resort cities in the world. Our hotel was as lavish and modern as any in the Western world. However the beach was less than impressive. Instead of sand, it had gravel. Bathers sat on boards rather than towels.

We toured the expansive Nikitsky Botanical Gardens filled with gorgeous, exotic flora from all over the world. Our Russian tour guide gushed over the Bougainvilleas from Italy. I chuckled because they are common place here in Florida. Next, we toured the summer retreat of Nicholas & Alexandria. It was my favorite palace because it had an air of serenity as well as beauty. Also it was the site of the famous Yalta Conference after WWII.

Now it was off on another Aeroflot to Leningrad (St.Petersburg) the 2^nd largest city in the USSR. With its numerous canals, bridges, and statues, it reminded me of Venice, only it was far grander! After a visit to St. Isaac’s Cathedral, we traveled to Palace Square where Russia had fallen to revolutionaries, followed by a tour of Nicholas & Alexander’s winter palace. – The movies are wrong! It was a back staircase the revolutionaries stormed, not the grandiose one in front.

Next we went to the Hermitage Museum where The Thinker by Rodin was on display. But I was intrigued with the Egyptian mummy. To me, it was more impressive than Lenin’s waxy-looking corpse back in Moscow.

Come evening, we attended a Russian circus inside a gigantic auditorium. This was different from the Western variety because the acrobats and animal acts were all woven around a story.

The following day, we took an excursion to Petrodvorets, Peter the Great’s palace famous for its numerous beautiful fountains. Later we went to a Russian zoo, which made me feel sorry for the animals. Their pens and cages were too small.

Our last evening in the USSR we were treated to a gala farewell dinner at a popular Russian restaurant with entertainment and of course caviar.

The next day, we boarded Finnair for home. A day-long layover awaited us in Helsinki. Finland had a flat terrain of mostly woods and lakes. Small groups of us took cabs into the city. We spent most of the day riding the streetcars and sightseeing. The atmosphere there was completely different, the air seemed brighter and glowing, no grimness anywhere. The people appeared fitter and were far better dressed than the Soviets. My group of 5 was having such a grand time in Helsinki that we lost track of time! The airport personnel rushed us onto the plane upon our return.

The trip ended too soon for me. I have been to more exotic places like Morocco, but I’ve never been anyplace that felt more alien than the USSR. For this reason, it was my most memorable trip. As much as I love it, I haven’t had caviar since. My budget doesn’t allow for it.

In Moscow, I had purchased a small figurine of Misha the Bear, the official symbol of the 1980 Moscow Olympics. I planned to watch on TV the following year. However, no North American athletes were allowed to participate. We boycotted the Moscow Olympics because of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, where we are now entrenched.

I still have that little figurine today, along with my memories.