Mouthwatering Experience

We have all heard the expression “mouthwatering.”   Well, let me tell you it is not just an expression.  It’s the real thing.  My father-in-law, Willard, would grill his ribs for six to eight hours.  Just thinking about it makes my mouth water.  Unfortunately for him, between the beers he drank and the ribs he “tested,”  by the time we sat down, he was no longer hungry.

When I worked at the Department of Transportation, there were three food trucks parked on 7th Street.  Nobody was lined up at two of the trucks and the third truck had two long lines (one in front and one at the side entrance).  I had heard that the young man who operated the truck was working his way through college.

I always ordered a half-smoked with mustard relish and onions.  I’m watering right now.  I knew they weren’t good for me, so I limited myself to once a week.  Sometimes I cheated.  Yes, the building had a cafeteria, but my first visit to the cafeteria was when I was interviewing for the job.  I decided to use the men’s room to comb my hair.  When I entered, I found a homeless man taking a bath at the sink.  That had a chilling effect on my use of the cafeteria.

After three years at DOT, I spent the next 14 years downtown.  Periodically, I would have to go over to DOT.  My visit always included the lunch hour.  Then one day the truck was gone!  I felt like walking around the block to see if he parked somewhere else.  But he was gone, and I remember what my wife, Carole, always said, “Get over it!”  Ironically, losing her is the one thing I can’t seem to get over.

I transferred my loyalty to Subway.  Generally, I hate standing in line to order, knowing that if I can’t make up my mind, I’m holding up the line.  As you have probably figured out, I always order the same thing.  I get a six-inch sweet onion chicken teriyaki on wheat bread with provolone cheese.  After the lettuce and tomato bit, I drowned it in sweat onion and honey mustard sauce.  When they are wrapping it, it looks like a puddle.  Then, I slip off somewhere and happily devour it.

The last two years, I’ve taken my daughters and granddaughter to Ocean City.  As soon as we hit the Boardwalk, I found my Subway shop, but the girls refused to join me.  They opt for some tourist joint.  Kristin, my granddaughter, said, “Grandpa, you need to up your game.”  Then she explained that I should try Jimmy Johns or Jersey Mikes.  That would mean standing in line uncertain as to what to order.  People lined up behind me wanting me to hurry up.  No thanks.

So, I got my mouthwatering sub and sat down at one of their picnic tables.  I took about six napkins and figured I might use them all.  After one bite and one wipe, the napkin blew away.  The wind was brisk, and it was moving down the Boardwalk.  I did the right thing and quickly went after it.  After I retrieved it, I was startled to see four or five sea gulls fighting over my sub!  By the time I got back, the birds were gone, my sub was gone, and I was left with only a gooey wrapper.  I found where the girls had gone and ate some of their soggy French fries.

Credit Cards

The next time you see your grandchildren, tell them that when you grew up there was no such thing as a credit card.  They will probably say, “Gee Gran, how did you get through college?”  Try to explain to them what a lay-a-way plan was.

Nowadays, I suspect everyone has at least one credit card and I hope we are all smart enough to pay them off each month.  There are things like Pay Pal and Apple Pay, which I don’t understand, but I think they all come back to a credit card. I get a kick out of a retail store that has lost its power.  No one knows how to collect a payment.  Sam Walton would be turning over in his grave.

Of course, someone can always steal your card number.  A number of years back, I took clients to Ruth’s Chris Steak House in Detroit.  A short while later, I discovered I had not only paid for their meal, but I had bought two rooms of furniture at a local store!  It turned out I didn’t have to pay for the furniture, but I was disappointed that no one was interested in investigating the theft.  I guess it was less expensive to write it off.  But what about the fact that I felt violated!

A slight little problem with credit cards is that they come with expiration dates.  And that date eventually arrives.  Never fear, they will provide you with a new credit card just in time.  The problem comes when you have given companies your card number so that they can collect their monthly charge.  You may say, “Oh, I would never do that.”  And then I would remind you of Cox, Verizon and Amazon.  USAA?  Netflix?  Yep, I think most of us do it.

My expiration date was 01/25.  The new card arrived in early January, and I dutifully made a list of companies to notify.  What a pain.  I finally got ahold of the right person at Verizon.  She explained to me that she was not permitted to take credit card numbers or expiration dates over the phone; that I had to do it through an “app.”  The good news is she sent me a “link” and stayed on the phone. She then walked me through the loading of the “app” and then, the necessary steps to change my expiration date!  When we were finished, I offered to adopt her, but no luck.

I couldn’t talk to anyone at Amazon, so I started working online.  No, I don’t want an Amazon credit card.  No, I’m not interested in Amazon Pay (I don’t even know what it is).  I’m sure Amazon Music is great, but I just want to change my expiration date.  Finally, success.

I can vouch that the charity Tunnel 2 Towers keeps their administrative costs to a minimum, because no body answers their phones!  What was most troubling was that Go Daddy and Hewlett-Packard already had my new expiration date!  How did that happen?  I had only had the card for two days.  That was when I had an epiphany.  No more calls.  If they want their money, they can come find me.

Marc Fleischaker – The Big 8 0

Marc Fleischaker was the Executive Director of the law firm, Arent Fox, during the years I was a partner there. Last week, he celebrated his 80th birthday. The was a lovely party at Bar a Vin in Georgetown. I was honored to be there. Below is a short poem I prepared for the occasion.

What’s this I hear? What’s this about?

Marc turning 80, let’s give it a shout!

A loving husband and father, but that’s not the end,

As many of us know, he’s a cherished friend.

A kid from Kentucky, a scholar you see,

Who played with Wes Unseld in sixty-three.

He grew from Wharton to GW, from a duckling to a swan,

Where he led Arent, Fox, Kintner, Plotkin and Kahn.

Eighty years is special, but not as special as the man,

Ask those at Arent Fox, the law firm that he ran.

The law firm was his treasure, and he carried great sway,

Times when things went wrong, Marc jumped in to save the day.

It happened very seldom, but when things did look bleak,

Marc gathered the firm in his arms and raised it to a higher peak!

So, let’s raise a glass and make a fuss,

For Super Marc, Chairman Emeritus.

Shout Happy Birthday, till he goes out the door,

Wishing him the best, and many, many more.

Left-Handed – Right-Handed

The other evening, I was untying my shoes and I noticed I was doing it with my left hand.  Not just my left shoe, but both shoes.  That caused me to pause, because I am right-handed.  I switched around to use my right hand.  Clearly, I could do it, but it wasn’t as comfortable.  At that moment I realized that I don’t have enough important things to keep me busy.

While that was probably true, this left-hand, right-hand thing caused me to reflect.  What else do I routinely do with my left hand?  Not much.  Of course, from time to time, we all itch.  Sometimes you can only get to it with your non-dominant hand.  No thought process here, you scratch!

When I am combing my hair, I pick up the comb with my right hand and comb away.  I comb my hair to the right.  If I don’t have a comb, I swipe my hair with my left hand.  Isn’t this fascinating?  Clearly, the right hand doesn’t work, swiping to the right.  When I am watching a sporting event on TV and the game gets to a critical moment, I find myself swiping at about 80 swipes per minute.  I hope nobody is watching.

When I’m getting ready to shave, I shake up the shaving gel in my right hand and squirt it into my left hand.  Then, using my left hand, I apply the cream to my face.  It feels very natural and I’m pretty good at covering my face.  We are never graded on this, but I would give myself a B plus (in college, I was happy with a B minus).

About twenty years ago, my wife, Carole, was big into Korean Yoga.  There was a location close by and she would practice two to three times a week.  The practices were tough, but she hung in there.  She brought a book home about Dahn Yoga and encouraged me to read it.  I read it and there was a lot about balance and wholeness.  The book encouraged using your opposite hand.  I was doing OK with the little things, but then I tried to shave with my left hand.  I put the band-aids on with my right hand.

I look things up on Google all the time.  I very seldom follow their advice.  I had a scratch on my glasses, and they recommended scrubbing the glass with toothpaste.  Fortunately, before I did anything, I found another article screaming “don’t use toothpaste.”  I looked up parents trying to change their child’s dominant hand.  Some articles said, no problem.  Other articles said the child would probably have psychological problems and be scarred for life.

Then I found out there is a “Handedness Research Institute.”  Good old HRI. What a crazy world.  I also found out that my son, Paul, who is right-handed, unties his shoes with his left hand.  Now, I believe it might be hereditary!

The Friendly Skies

Let’s face it, sometimes you have to fly.   If you are going halfway across the country, you need to fly.  We have the time to drive, but maybe not the energy.  Plus, if you don’t fly, you miss out on the soft drink and pretzels.

The Virginia State Golf Association set up a four-day golf trip to Kohler, Wisconsin which included playing Whistling Straits. The first golf round was in the afternoon, so, if you’re brave you could fly in in the morning.  I was brave and got a Southwest flight to Milwaukee and a rental car for the one-hour drive. That gave me plenty of time, if nothing went wrong.

Well, Southwest cancelled the Thursday flight on Wednesday afternoon.  They said they looked forward to assisting me on my next flight. I checked Reagan National, but there was nothing that would get me there on time.  Then I found a United flight out of Dulles to Chicago with a connecting flight to Milwaukee. Only problem was I had to get up at 3:30 AM.  But it got me to Milwaukee.  The rental car was waiting for me, and I figured out how to start it, but I couldn’t find a lever to put the car in gear. After what seemed to be a lot longer than it was, I found a drive button where you would expect to find the heating and air condition controls.  I made it to the golf course with enough time to warm up.

We are not going to talk about my golf performance during those four days.  I will mention that the courses were fantastic (and treacherous), and I met some great Virginians in our group.  I am definitely glad that I went.

The last two days, the courses were right along Lake Michigan.  We had beautiful Fall weather until the last two holes on the last day.  We were playing the Irish course at Whistling Straits when the sky went dark, and the wind and rain started coming in sideways.  That resulted in me driving to the Milwaukee airport in wet pants.

After three attempts, we landed in Chicago.  Something about a problem on the runway.  At least that’s what our pilot told us.  Because of me having to change flights (and needing a later flight because I played that morning), our flight was to depart at 9:30 PM and we would land a little after midnight.

You know, they never tell you what has gone wrong.  They just announce a delay. Departure time was now 10:30.  At 10:30 they announced that our plane was being towed to our gate!  It never made it.  The second tow also failed.  I would like to tell you why, but by then I was searching for a soft cushion.

At 11:30, they announced that a flight was coming in from San Diego to our gate and after the passengers got off and the plane was cleaned, it would be ours.  Here it was, almost midnight and we were gleeful.  We had a plane that didn’t have to be towed!  Our San Diego plane landed at Dulles at 3:30 AM and I was home by 4:15 AM.   As I walked in my door, I had the crazy thought that if I lost my luggage, I wouldn’t have to unpack it.  How stupid!  But that’s what happens at 4:15 in the morning.

The New Car Bug

Thinking about getting a new car can be like a sickness or compulsion.  Once you start thinking about it, it’s like a dog with a bone.  I was very happy with my nine-year old Lexus RX 350 (SUV).  Then some friends picked me up in their new car.  I asked what it was, and they said it was a Lexus RX 350!  What a difference nine years had made.  So, the bug had bit me.

If I leased for three years, it would cost less.  And in three years, I could see if I were still driving.  I checked the value of my low milage Lexus with Kelley Blue Book and came up with $18,000 to $20,000.  CarMax would give me $18,000.  Take that off of a three-year lease and boom, I’m golden.  My Lexus salesman from nine years ago was still there and we set up a meeting. Compulsive, who’s compulsive?

I drove the car and it was great.  I was hooked.  We picked out the color and the interior.  I told him I wanted to trade in my Lexus.  He took the keys and had someone check it over.  Later, he came rushing up to me, all excited, and said, “Write this down, $15,000!”  Well, that was that.  We who are elderly are always concerned about someone taking advantage of us and I felt an attempt had just been made.  As I told him later on the phone, when the clock strikes 13, you begin to wonder about the first 12.

Well, Lexus was no longer an option, but the fever was still there.  I got the name of a salesperson at BMW and started the process over.  I drove an X 3 (SUV) and liked it a lot.  The salesman said he had other X3s with more powerful engines.  I asked him if the car I was driving had more power than my Lexus.  He said, “Oh, sure.”  I told him that was all I needed.  We picked out the color and interior and he advised that he had the exact car I wanted in a reserve lot somewhere close.  The issue of trading in my Lexus had disappeared as I was shipping it to my daughter, Becky, in Arizona.  We decided I would pick up the car the next week. I arrived early for my 1:00 appointment, but there was no car and no salesman.  At 1:30, someone came up and advised me that my salesman was retrieving my car and would be there shortly.  Now, don’t get ahead of me.  At 2:00, my salesman showed up in a car that had three months of dirt and pollen on it.  He said the crew had cleaned and detailed the wrong car (now, I wonder if that was true).

We decided on a change in plans.  I would next meet with the BMW “genius” and she would explain all the bells and whistles.  When she arrived, she took my cell phone and linked it to the car.  Then, she got a call and disappeared.  Thirty minutes later, the salesman came back and ask how it was going.  I told him I had lost her.  He checked and told me that she had just found out that her dog had died, and she was in the back crying. There are certain things you cannot complain about, and this was definitely one.

So, the new plan was that the car would disappear to be cleaned and I would do the paperwork.  Then, they would find another BMW “genius” to help me.  While waiting around, I saw the young lady and told her I was sorry about her dog.  She smiled and thanked me.

The rest of the afternoon went slow but steady.  Because of the delays, they were going to give me a free Cilajet coating for my car.  Don’t feel badly if you don’t know what that is, I didn’t either.  The second  BMW “genius” set up everything I requested.  But since she did everything and I just watched, I wasn’t sure what I was learning.  This was confirmed on the way home when I couldn’t figure out how to turn off the radio!

We set up an appointment for the Cilajet treatment the next week.  When I arrived, I had no appointment, but 30 minutes later, my salesman showed up, grabbed my key fob and made it happen.  While there I saw the young lady who had lost her dog.  She recognized me and said hello.  I asked how she was doing.  She smiled and said, “Great, and the vet did a wonderful job of fixing up my dog.”

Christmas Observation – 2024

As I begin this report, the year is whizzing by, It’s hard to keep up, but I surely will try.

Life is good at The Fairfax, as everyone knows, And dodging scooters and walkers keeps you on your toes.

The staff is so friendly, so smiling, so giving, I can’t wait to get over to assisted living.  (NOT)

Since I’m on my own, the kids pay close attention,I’m afraid if I screw up, I may be in detention.

The girls’ summer visit is always a delight, Ocean City, Harris Crab House were things to excite.

A Sunday barbeque at Paul’s, brought all my kids together, Everything was perfect, even so the weather.

Golf, did I mention golf, you knew that I would,I’m trying to get better, whoa that I could.

Played Casa de Campo and Whistling Straits, Took lessons is Florida on frigid dates.

But I did shoot my age twelve times this year, I’m not getting better, just older, I fear.

Becky, Missy and Paul all retired this Summer, I can’t deny I’m old and that’s a bummer.

So that brings up health, thanks for your concern, I won’t discuss weight or things like heartburn.

For a guy in his eighties, I can’t complain, From spicy food to sugar, I won’t abstain.

Carpal tunnel surgery and trouble with an eye, Are not the kind of things that keep me from being spry.

I’m happy that I can drive, and climb out of the tub, And, of course, most important, I can still swing a club!

I bought a new car, a Beamer no less, But the process of buying is really a mess.

Just talking about it makes me blue, But the jokes about car salesmen are literally true.

Every four years we have an election, It might be less pain to have an infection.

I’m tired of hearing about every picadillo, Let’s go back to commercials on chips and My Pillow.

Now one side is upset, the other is in clover, But the good news for us is thank God, it’s over.

Most important are friends and family, let’s not get far apart, Let’s cherish every moment and keep close to each other’s heart.

This is a special time, one for laughs and good cheer, Wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Me, Me, Me

Sometime back, one of my “mentors” told me to keep in mind that when talking to career management, only one person was interested in my career.  And that was me.  I have concluded that it is the same with medical care.  Don’t get me wrong.  I am delighted with the medical care provided to me, but it is up to me to make sure I get what I need.

The chief of gastroenterology at Walter Reed examined me and decided I was too healthy to receive a colonoscopy.  I may be one of the few people you will ever know who fought to get a colonoscopy.  I won, if you can call that winning.

When one of my young friends had a massive heart attack on the 8th fairway at Fort Belvoir, I decided to get my heart checked out.  I figured out I needed a nuclear stress test.  Again, another stone wall.  My primary care physician concluded that there was no medical justification to give me the test.  I am convinced that the Fort Belvoir Hospital gives a prize to the Doc who saves them the most money and I believe my Doc is in the running.  Well, I finally found a friendly cardiologist who let me walk on her treadmill.  I passed.  Me, me, me. Over ten years ago, I had a basal cell problem on my nose.  I got to keep my nose, but every six months, I check in with a dermatologist.  One of the problems with military medicine is you are constantly losing your doctor and getting a new one.  So last June, I had my six-month checkup.   The doctor was pleasant and thorough.  She froze a few spots on my face, but thought I should have something called “blue light” therapy for the area around my jaw. We decided to wait until golf season was over.  After the treatment you have to avoid the sun and even bright lights.  

I got my blue light appointment in October.  My doctor was out on maternity leave and the new doctor looked younger that my grandson.  The technician asked what area to treat.  The Doc said, “Oh, let’s do his whole face.”  I know, I know, I should have spoken up.  The technician painted my whole face with the medication stick.  Then he put metal goggles over my eyes.

The blue light machine looked something like a beauty-shop hair dryer.  I had to sit in it for an hour.  Remember, I had on goggles and couldn’t see a thing.  It was really a long hour.  I tried meditation.  I tried yoga deep breathing.  But most of the time I spent trying to figure out where I went wrong.  Me, me, me had backfired.

By that evening, my face looked like a lobster just pulled out of the boiling water.  And it hurt.  It took me about two days to realize that my face was burnt.  After three days, most of my facial skin was on my pillow.  By the time my face peeled for the third time, I was not a happy camper.  The only thing that pleased me was all the tales I was making up about what happened to me, me, me (skiing in the Himalayas)!

Well, it’s all history now.  And I don’t think the precancerous cells on my face faired any better that I did.  I’m no longer furious with the child doctor.  I’m also letting people touch my face for a quarter!

CAPS, CAPS, CAPS

The Washington Capitals are the Stanley Cup Champions.   Doesn’t that sound great?  I wasn’t sure it was ever going to happen and this didn’t seem a very likely year.

We had a good season, but we had a good season last year and the year before.  But that didn’t stop Pittsburg from stomping us in the playoffs.  It seemed like we always played well during the regular season, but when the playoffs came around, the air just went out of our tires.  And during the playoffs, you have to increase the intensity of your game.  There was a playoff cloud over DC and its fans (and it was a very dark one).

Here is a statistic that will blow your mind.  In the playoff, the Caps have had 2-0 leads and 3-1 leads (all they needed was four wins) and have ended up losing 10 times!  We sat and watched some of those disasters.  But this was a different year.  

The Caps started off the playoffs with two defeats in their own stadium.  Then they came roaring back.  After watching part of their comeback, I said that I didn’t know how far they would go, but  they were definitely playing Stanley Cup hockey.  What did I mean?  I meant that they had increased their intensity through the roof.  Wherever the puck was on the ice, there was a Washington Capital flying towards it.  It is hard for an opponent to concentrate on making a good pass when a freight train is flying towards him.

You know one team is out playing the other when it appears that they have more players on the ice than the other team.  It is an optical illusion, but it is very real.  In 1989, the Calgary Flames won the Stanley Cup and I didn’t know the name of one of them.  But every one of them played like their hair was on fire.  Well, I would like to report that this year it was the Washington Capitals who played like their hair was on fire.

The Pittsburg Penguins have been our nemesis.  For so many years the Penguins had ended the Capital’s hopes.  But this year was different (it is worth saying twice).  And the team knew it (we fans didn’t).  The team was going to settle for nothing less than the cup.  Beating Pittsburg was just a step towards that goal.

They had to win four rounds to win the Stanley Cup.  In each round, they were behind,  but came back to win.  What a great group of guys.  And their captain, Alex Ovechkin, lead by example.  He put his body in the way of flying pucks.  It is not that hard when your hair is on fire.  Barry Trotz, the Caps coach, said with a smile, “I think we have exorcized all of our demons.”

As losers, we Cap fans were heard quite often saying, “Wait till next year.”   Now, we Can’t wait until next year, but for obvious reasons.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Copyright 2018

Yes, Another Christmas Poem – 2017

Before I put pen to paper, we go over the year,
Using five or six calendars, we try to make it clear.
We go month by month, so we don’t miss a thing,
Every month a doctor?  How does that ring?
It was a long, long year, long before it expired,
Not really a bad year, but boy are we tired.

Carole started the year at Johns Hopkins, minor surgery so to    speak,
But the follow-up visit showed infection, and she was there for a     week.
Johns Hopkins is special, had her Whipple in 2012,
Clean for five years, so concerns can be shelved.

Disney and golf school and Missy and the kids,
Great to see family and keep golf off the skids.
But shooting 79 when you’re 78, then 80 when you’re 79,
Means not shooting your age, and that’s not fine.

A May RAJA at Disney, what a delight,
Old Friends and Mickey, now that’s a sight.
As soon as we’re back, it’s off to Cape May,
It’s a Fairfax trip, filling the day.

Becky and Missy visited over the Fourth,
A Lancaster opportunity to sally forth.
We hit all the outlets, then crabs at Harris,
How many can we eat, why don’t you dare us?
Home for the brunch, joined by Paul, Sandy and Jack,
Seven at the table, gaiety yak.

This is the year of missing teeth for Daddy Jack,
Had his front tooth extracted way, wayback.
A flipper, a tray, it just didn’t matter,
A lisp, trapped food and usually splatter.
But after eight months of this ordeal,
Front teeth have returned, and they really look real!

We had parties and parties and parties galore,
For holidays, anniversaries, birthdays and more.
A giving society thank you, the Foundation scene,
Parties for our building, luaus and Halloween.
And what about next year? Probably the same,
We’ll dance around the clock, unless we are lame.

The kids are doing well, but we don’t see them enough,
A quick trip here, a quick trip there, and all that FaceTime stuff.
But next year will be better, it really should be great,
Seventeen of us on an Alaskan cruise, we already have the date.

This was not a good year for politics, nor sports here is DC,
Mutual respect and brotherhood, were a never answered plea.
But family and friends really filled the void,
and brought life into perspective,
It’s all of you and your smiling eyes, that makes hope more reflective.

So we close this year’s poem with more hope that fear,
Wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Copyright 2017

 

BOO! I saw you smile!