Valentine’s

By

Gerry Niskern

Valentine’s day is coming soon. What are your plans?  One young couple I know will celebrate cupid’s evening at a local hotel complete with champagne and a new nightie from Victoria’s Secret. Hotel packages are running around $500 per couple for the day of hearts. It’s anyone’s guess what the new lingerie will cost.

We’ve come a long way, Sweetie…or have we?  A box of chocolates from the corner drug store just doesn’t cut it anymore.

When you think about it, does anything compare to the thrill of receiving that big red heart from the valentine box when you were in fifth grade?  You remember the enchanted box.  You hurried to get through your lessons and turn in your papers so you could add your share of red paper hearts to the structure.

Valentine’s day marked your validation of popularity. If you received a big stack from your classmates it was great, but the most wonderful feeling of all was opening an envelope and finding a declaration of love signed by the boy who was too shy to look your direction.

Valentine’s day and courtship has changed through the years. My mother, Eva, used to tell us about one special Valentine’s day when she was twelve years old.

She was the youngest of six girls. Everyone who has been in that position knows that most of the work helping the mother around the house falls to the last girl. On Saturday, before Valentine’s day, her older sisters were upstairs shampooing their hair and preparing to step out with their suitors that evening. Eva was kept busy answering the front door, while trying to perform her weekend household chores.  Each time it was the delivery boy from the local confectioners with a heart shaped box of candy for one of her sisters from their current boyfriend. The twelve-year-olds mouth watered at the thought of all that chocolate candy.

Walter, a Russian fellow, was courting her widowed sister Annie. Early that morning he brought Annie a box of chocolates and stayed to help Grandpa hoe the garden. Eva teased him about loving Annie so much he was willing to hoe on his day off. He laughed and said how did she like being the only girl in the family without a sweetheart?

The last straw occurred late that afternoon when an elegant box arrived for her sister Kate. She was just two years older and had been her playmate. Now Kate had a boyfriend and was abandoning her.  Mom started to knead the bread dough for the next  day’s baking, tears of frustration in her eyes.  She pounding the dough so furiously she almost didn’t hear the knock at the door.  “Delivery for Eva,” the boy announced loudly as he placed in her arms the largest golden heart that had come to the house that day.

“Girls, come see what Eva has,” my grandmother called up the stairs. For the first time in her young life my mother was the center of attention in her family as her five sisters speculated whom the sender could possibly be.

“So, Eva,” Walter asked when he came to escort Annie that evening, “What does your dad think about you having a boyfriend?” It was quite a long time before she realized Walter, who later became her brother-in-law, was the anonymous sender.

Maybe it’s time for all of us to spread the love around a little. I’m sure everyone can think of many people in their lives who need an unexpected expression of affection. How about the crossing guard at your child’s school, the woman recently widowed in your neighborhood, the day care worker at the nursery or the waitress at your favorite luncheon spot. The list is endless. You know who they are.

“New Rules”

By

Gerry Niskern

Have you heard the old saying, ‘There’s two sides to every story’? I hear a lot of complaints from friends about poor service in valley restaurants.  On the other hand, we hear complaints from several friends who are wait people

I know, depending on what side of the table you are on, you are thinking…. But it’s them!

We like to be greeted with courtesy and have our drink order taken promptly. That’s reasonable. However, when with a group, do you give your order with everyone else, or wait to finish a cell phone conversation, while holding one finger up to the waiter to hold on a minute (which can stretch on for several!). Then, when everyone is served, place your order, causing an extra trip to the bar for the waiter.

We all like to have our food served in a reasonable amount of time. Sometimes when it comes less than warm, we know its been sitting awhile.  You certainly should ask for it to be warmed.

On the other hand, if the food is a long time coming but is hot when it gets to you, that indicates the kitchens if running long. Don’t take it out on the waitperson.  There is only so much they can do.

Are you a slow eater? Do you get annoyed when someone tries to take your plate before you have barely started dining? Do you feel that you can’t put your fork down, or whoosh, its gone, with a cute little remark such as, “Are you two finishing up?”

Then here are some people who expect their plate to be removed immediately when they are finished. How can you please everyone? The waiter should  notice if the customer has placed his fork and knife at the four o’clock position, tines down. Take note managers, a little training here would help. Teach your servers to serve the ladies first. Don’t reach across; it’s hazardous and very impolite.

Of course, we have covered the subject of kids before. Crying babies or kids being allowed to run around the dining establishment without supervision is unsafe for them and dangerous for the waiters too. I heard one disgusted waiter say that if he had a tray full of hot dishes on his shoulder and he was tripped up by a running kid, “The foods not going all over me!”

And if you insist on taking the offspring along, compensate in tipping for the amount of debris left all around your table.

However, if you are seated next to a loud table, ( see: crying babies) or extra loud, boisterous adults, don’t take it out on the waitress when its tip time . They can’t do anything about it. It’s the luck of the draw.

Do you snap your fingers at the waitperson when you have a request? Of course, you know that’s rude.

Any waitress will tell you that if a patron does that, its always easy to tell by observing a little that he also treats his female companion the same way. Funny how little habits tell a story about someone?

There is a pattern we’ve come to expect when we are eating out. Most, not all, waiters seem to decide up front who is probably paying the check. That person gets the bulk of attention, refills, etc. It gets amusing when more than one male is along. They still choose one of the males, but not always the check grabber.

I’m going to start an experiment suggested by our manager friend. Early on, I will put my American Express card out by my place. Something tells me I will get really good service that day, maybe even a coke refill now and then!

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“MOM’S CEDAR CHEST’

By

Gerry Niskern

It was a deep, burnished walnut with round, pedestal legs. There were roses and leaves in muted pinks and greens carved along the front. When I was a child, I loved it. But what I really loved was all the treasures I imagined it contained. Then one day I was allowed to discover some of them.

When my sister and I unlocked mom’s cedar chest, along with the heavenly aroma of the cedar wood, memories came tumbling out. On top were two small bathing suits, circa l930’s.  We wore the scratchy, wool one piece suits when the mom’s whole family of aunts, uncles and cousins had Sunday picnics down on the Ohio River.

Back then, we complained about having to hold back the vines as my dad helped one of our elderly aunts slowly down the steep, overgrown path to the river bank. We wanted to race ahead and join our cousins in the water. “Always help an old person,” our mother admonished. “Their life is hard!”

The high light of the day was when Uncle Walter, our strong  uncle from Russia, swam across the wide Ohio, as his wife, Aunt Annie, ran up and down the rocky bank screaming, “Don’t swim all the way across, you damn fool. You’re just showing off!”

Mom did manage to mention quietly on the way home that. “Of course, it was great fun to watch, but Uncle Walter should respect his family and not worry them.”

Another item we pulled out of the cedar chest was our worn out softball, with stitching half gone. We always protested about trying to catch Sam’s hard balls in our neighborhood game. Unfortunately, Sam was a husky teenager with a toddler’s mind who always forgot which base to run to. When we complained, mom explained “Sam’s your friend. He deserves a chance to play ball too.”

The pale, longing face of a little girl with severe Asthma was always framed in a neighbor’s window watching our fun, winter or summer. There was not much help for Asthma back then. But she had playmates because at least once a week mom would say “go play with Dorothy. She needs friends too.”

There was a message from mom linked to most items we pulled out of the old chest; “Treat everyone with the dignity they deserve as human beings.”

Turns out I was right. Mom’s cedar chest really did contain treasures; word’s to live by all of our lives.

“Let’s all go To the Movies”

By

Gerry Niskern

Have you been to any of the new movie complexes that have sprung up around our valley? I started patronizing some when we realized it was getting close to Oscar time. I realized I’d better catch up on the past year’s flicks.

Actually, I had put a moratorium on trips to the local theatres some time ago for various reasons.

There’s the person beside you having a long conversation on their cell phone. It takes a while to realize that the dialogue you are hearing does not match the actions on the screen. Then you have the popcorn crunchers and back-of-the-seat kickers. Actually, the most annoying is the guy who brings his hearing aid with him. When he can’t hear the dialogue on screen he yells, “What did he say?” and the wife shouts, “Would you like a drink?” “What,” he screams, “Would you like a mink?” and so it goes for the next two hours.

Anyway, I decided to give the movies another whirl. The problem is, going to the show is not as simple as it used to be. First, I had to decide if it’s a guy or a chick flick. Who is the mastermind that created those categories?

On the morning of the big date we hold a phone conference to compare notes on the critic’s comments about our choice. “That guy in the paper gave it four stars”, I say. “But they gave it a thumbs down on the radio this morning,” a friend replies. Now what do we do? Do we dare to use our own judgement? Is that still allowed now days? Is it on at the good theatre; you know, the one with stadium seating and a railing down front where you can put your feet up?

After paying our seven-fifty dollars admission and sitting through ear-splitting music, the movie starts…wait, it’s a ten minute commercial featuring a sports car driving 120 miles an hour through city streets. Then we have numerous previews of coming attractions. If it’s a comedy, we are shown every single funny scene in the film.

It makes you long for the theaters of your childhood. Before the movie, there was a newsreel and if you were lucky, a cartoon. I remember back then the manager stopped the movie for an intermission and a drawing. If her ticket stub contained a lucky number, your mother might win free dishes or a six pack of Pepsi!

Trying to keep the real and imaginary characters straight in today’s movies is impossible. It seems we moviegoers aren’t presented with a straight narrative anymore. There are flashbacks within flashbacks fading in and out of the actor’s imagination or dreams.

Later, when we are drifting in a perplexed state of bewilderment towards the car, I inevitably get the question,   “Now, just tell me, WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?”

“New Year’s Driver”

By

Gerry Niskern

It’s 2016. Does your family have a brand new driver? Many lucky families do. I’m sure his head is swimming with instructions from parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and experienced friends (those who got their licenses last month!).

Here’s some of the advice I heard a new driver in our family receiving a few years back. Feel free to use some of it.

“Be aware of other drivers at all times. Know who is in front, behind and beside you,” That was some of the sage advice from one great-grandfather. “Also, go over in your mind how to react quickly in difficult situations. And don’t assume that just because you have the right-of-way that they will give it to you!” If I recall correctly, this grandpa used sandbags in the trunk of his first cool car until he could afford lowering blocks. He also had skirts on the rear wheels, a metal sun visor and twin pipes for which he received a ticket or two.

One uncle chimed in; “Always do the speed limit. Every mile per hour that you travel over the limit increases the danger to yourself. If someone cuts in front of you, don’t play the game.  If you are following too close and have to panic stop, you will slide from 110 to 140 feet. You’ll run into them and you get the ticket and your insurance will triple.” This uncle had his first car taken away because he couldn’t say no to his friends when they asked to borrow his Ranchero.

News of our new driver reminded some friends of their early driving days. One man recalled he and his brother, who was not driving age yet, saving their money and buying a 1937 Chevy for $175.00. “Things went fine till the younger brother got his license and announced he was taking the car that evening. I believe my reply was, ‘The heck you are!’ A scuffle broke out and Dad stepped in real quick and took the keys. He kept them for two or three months, until we worked out our differences.”

In the meantime, their younger sister and her girlfriend took the keys to that Chevy and decided that between them, they could drive it. Their sister was big enough to reach the gas pedal and clutch. Her girlfriend was smaller, but knew all about shifting, so she shifted gears and told the driver when to push in on the clutch. They actually made it a few blocks.

One fellow remembers when he was 13 being sent across town to the Bertino’s farm on 44^th Street, north of Van Buren to pick up a load of apricots and grapes for his dad’s produce business.  An U. S. Army plane had crashed on 24^th street and he stopped to check it out. His dad was frantic and furious with worry about his taking so long.

Another friend recalled driving her family’s car here in Phoenix when she was 13. They lived in central Phoenix. Her mother told her to take her aunt to visit the uncle in the TB hospital in the Dad’s Buick. She wasn’t worried until someone backed into them. She had to take a crowbar and pry the fender away from the tire so her dad wouldn’t notice.

Our new driver in the family has an after school job to go with the new insurance payment he will be making. Quite a difference when compared to the cars the teenagers bought a few generations back. Everyone agreed that back then none of the kids thought about having car insurance.

Then again, our New Years driver has just purchased some bigger rear speakers with his first pay check.  Of Course!