Christmas Morning

Christmas Eve was wonderful. If by wonderful you think I mean it was perfect – not exactly.

You see, I was sick with the flu on the 23rd so for my Christmas Eve dinner, I swapped the caviar pie hors d’oeuvre for cheese and crackers; the spinach soufflé for cooked carrots; and called a guest asking them to bring dessert.

But I was still looking forward to a festive time as I happily bounced out to the car to get that last item I had forgotten. The trip resulted in a $95 bill – I decided to buy one bottle of wine for a gift so had to buy 6 to get 30% off. You know the drill.

When I returned, humming “What child is this”, I saw a brown spot and silver foil on the carpet.

Lady, my “perfect” cocker spaniel had enjoyed the 8 chocolate Santas I had left on the floor to wrap for a few children who would now celebrate a chocolate-free Christmas. Lady had dined in all three bedrooms and there were spots and crinkled foil in each room.

I screamed at her, of course. For those of you who say, “Scolding an animal after they have misbehaved is confusing and does nothing,” well, I really didn’t care about the learning experience for her. It was about doing something other than tossing her over the fence, which is loving in its own way.

But it’s Christmas, time for joy and forgiveness. So I pet and love her little chocolate face, Next I pop the massive roast in the oven and turn to the sink. It’s backed up and full of water and “stuff”. Of course I turn on the garbage disposal. I got a B- in plumbing 101 but I must have failed that test as everything simply went to the other side of the sink. I put Draino in the sink. No bueno. I plugged the GD (garbage disposal, you potty mouths) side and started plunging. Nothing.

Oh well, guests arrived and we had a lovely evening. Throughout the evening we played our new favorite game. Plunge the Sink. Each guest took a turn plunging when going into or passing through the kitchen. But nothing helped. But we all chuckled.

I wiped the dishes, rinsed them in a bucket and hid them in the dishwasher to wash after someone who really understands plumbing helps me out. I’m going with the Scarlet O’Hara theme: I’ll worry about that tomorrow – the 26th as I’m going to spend today with friends and family.

But, my Christmas Eve was truly wonderful: full of love and happiness with family and friends. I wish the same for each of you!

Shopping

Did I ever say I liked to shop? Well, I do and I’m darned good at it. Saks was having a sale. So I spent $3,000 on things I don’t need, but I liked, to get a $600 gift certificate I can spend next year. Technically, I can spend it now but don’t want to because it will take away from my shopping points and freebies for this year.

My shopper Connie had texted pictures of things she knows I need. Unfortunately, she also includes the shoes to “just try with the dress”. I have an entire closet full of shoes. I have 5 pairs of black heels, 3 pairs of beige, a pair of blue, and six pairs of boots, not to mention flats, sandals, and tennis shoes – for the gym, of course. But I love them all! Thanks to Connie, I have my own shoe showroom. Maybe I’ll have a two-for-one shoe sale. I can give points redeemable for tax research articles. Or, maybe not!

Of course, I also must get makeup from Katie so I can get the free gift with purchase. A free gift with purchase is an important part of my family heritage. Dad used to say that we bought something we didn’t want to get something we didn’t need. He was right. But what’s wrong with that?

Travelling the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend

We always fly to Sacramento the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend. It’s a challenging but often entertaining experience. This year was no exception: a plethora of “Huh?” and “Oh, wow” moments.

First, I was fortunate enough to get a TSA prescreen check-in so I didn’t have to disrobe, take my shoes off, or put my drugs and potions in a plastic bag for the world to see. I thought all people in this line were experienced travelers. I was wrong. There was a gentleman who tried to send his coffee through the scanner propped up in a bin by his murse (man purse). Following him were the two ladies with the dog in a carrier who thought they had to send the dog through the scanning machine and were practically hysterical. No. ladies, dogs – like children – dogs go through the people machine.

Second, some unfortunate individual left his or her shoes at the security checkpoint. TSA announced “Would the person who left their shoes at South screening checkpoint please return for them?” Three times in a half an hour period the announcement was repeated. How do you not know you forgot to put your shoes back on?

Third, Dudley and I met early to have breakfast and go over some things and although we had arrived 2 ½ hours before the flight, we almost missed it. Luckily Sean and Kerry were able to evil-eye people away from sitting in our preferred row. And what do you know – behind us in the plane was the dog – barking!

I saved the best for last. When we were on the tram heading to the terminal, there was a woman and her probably 10-year-old daughter. The tram was jerky and the girl wasn’t holding on. She grabbed her mother who promptly hissed in a loud voice, “I am going to kill you.” She was serious. After she realized everyone was watching her, she announced, “She was supposed to fly home but pitched such a fit they kicked her off the airplane!” Imagine banned from flying at age 10. She won’t get a TSA pre-check notice!

Finally, I’m tucked into my satiny Hilton-sheeted bed. I did need a room change, though. For some reason they thought I wanted a low floor and my first room was a superior room overlooking the accounting department. They seemed to be working hard but I didn't find this particularly superior.

It will be an interesting week!

Be fashionable - Nazi's rules

Nazi (pronounced Naw-zee – not like the political party) is my stylist. And she has rules. They include some pretty good suggestions, like:

• Wear something tight on top and loose on the bottom (or vice versa) for contrast and layer, layer, layer. I’ll show you layers – of back fat!

• Don’t wear a choker necklace: It brings attention to your neck, which she says is the least flattering part of your body. I’m not sure that’s true in my case, I have a couple of pretty ugly toes. But I can go with this one.

• Don’t mix black and navy. I think I knew this, but does it count when I accidentally wear a black shoe and a navy one because it was dark and maybe I had a glass too much of wine last night?

In addition, Nazi tells me:

• NEVER wear sneakers except to the gym;

• NEVER wear flip flops except to the beach; and

• ALWAYS dress as if you will meet the man of your dreams while you are out – at the grocery, drug store, cleaners? Well, that could be good: he’s showing his feminine side. Or it could be bad: He can’t afford to pay someone to do this! (Sorry, that sounded snippy)

• ALWAYS wear multiple bracelets, necklaces, rings but ONLY wear big cocktail rings and not on ring finger if you don’t want men to think you are married. I’m just picturing myself at the airport bedazzled with miles of chains and rings – like Mr. T. Glad they don’t make us take off all jewelry any more.

“Really cute” (pronounced rullycute) is her favorite expression. I like it when she says that to me. It doesn’t happen too often.

Pumpkin carving with tools

Two weeks ago my grandchildren were spending the night and I decided we should carve a pumpkin together. They had these new “designer” pumpkins. They were only $5 each and very elegant with orange, green, white stripes.

Alexis (12) and Michael (5) selected one. Alexis asked if I had pumpkin carving tools. I looked at her with disgust. Does everything have to be specially made for a small task? Of course not. I announced that I had appropriate tools. We would do this the old fashioned way – with knives!

What I had not counted on was that the pumpkin would have such tough skin. I got out a steak knife and a large carving knife with a good looking point. I broke the steak knife with the first cut. I finally pushed it through the rock-hard rind and tried to move it. It snapped off. Minimal bad words – children are present.

Next I attacked with the carving knife. Although I didn’t break it, I realized this was not going to work. Michael suggested we go and get a pumpkin carving set. Really? I have more tools in my arsenal. I marched in and got a big screwdriver and a hammer. (Couldn’t find the drill.)

Success! Well, if by success you mean it was easy, it wasn’t. But Alexis and I took turns pounding the screwdriver with the hammer and using the big knife to cut into the pumpkin. We and were able cut and pry the lid off and to carve rudimentary minimalist facial features.
The darned thing got moldy in 2 days.

So this weekend Gil supervised pumpkin carving with Erin (2) and Alexis and Michael. It was a traditional pumpkin and we used pumpkin carving tools. How boring! But it was enjoyable and Erin and I were full of pumpkin seeds and gunk. Next time I’ll don a hazmat suit rather than an apron and bring on the drill!

Maximize hotel reward programs

What would you do for a Hilton stay?

Our speaker group is the most creative group I know. Here are some of our tricks to get to that diamond, platimum, whatever level.

• Stay at a different hotel each night so we get a stay at each one. You see, if you spend 3 nights at one hotel, you get 1 stay. If you go from the Embassy Suites on night 1, to the Hampton Inn on night 2, to the Hilton on night 3, you get 3 stays, which gives more benefit than 3 nights at one hotel.

• Book a stay at a local dive hotel in the chain you need another stay to maintain your premier status. Check in. Go home. Stop on the way to work. Go to your room to pick up your amenity (chips, candy bar, and/or water). Mess up the bed. Check out. Put found treasure in children’s lunches. One stay!

• Book a room under your name. Check in. Let daughter, son, or relative stay there. They are happy because they were upgraded to a nicer room. You get a stay. But be careful. If they have children, you will likely be babysitting. Hmmm. But it’s a stay.

• Use your points for a stay. But depending on the chain you may need to charge something to the room to get a credit for a "stay". Parking is good. So is a round of cocktails.

Lest you think this is ridiculous, you are wrong. The most important things are: You keep your top tier preferred status; You have more status than one of your compatriots: a heady notion.

Dear Dave,

Dear Dave,

I must confess. I was not telling you the truth in the San Jose airport bar. I am not a performer for Cirque du Soleil. I did not injure my leg in a practice session on the trapeze. To be honest, I am not even from Montreal. In fact, I’ve never been to Montreal. I do know it’s in Canada, though. I was a French major in college so my accent was learned.

The truth is, I was wearing the giant boot on my leg because I dislocated my middle toe. It happened in the gym doing something I’m probably too old to do – or so my daughter says. But, I couldn’t tell you that. It would have sounded silly. You would have thought I was a wimp. Really? An unattractive black velcroed boot going all the way to my knee for one little toe? A bit of an overkill, I felt. So I spiced up the story a bit: well, maybe more than a bit. But you seemed enthralled.

I did enjoy our conversation and you have a great personality for an engineer. I was riveted by your story about the misfiring of spark plugs on your car. Who knew one could wax poetic for 5 minutes on such a seemingly bland topic.

I hope you aren’t embarrassed if your friends read this blog and realize that you didn’t spend cocktail time with a famous performer.

Truth is, I write and teach tax law. Not nearly as exciting. Please have a nice life.

Lynn (Not Linette)

My birthday

Today is my birthday. My kids took me to Las Brisas for brunch. It was especially enjoyable because you get to sit down and pick something off a menu. You don’t have to take a plate and line up for buffet jenga. I’m particularly familiar with this mode of chowing down because it’s a favorite of individuals at many seminars I’ve attended.

It is scary but actually a true art form.

For those of you wanting to engage and indulge, here’s how it works. Pick the largest plate possible – of course. You begin by lining your plate with lettuce. Unfortunately the soft, leafy, lawn clipping salad of late is not a wise choice. You need strong, large leaves of iceberg or possibly romaine. (Note: romaine lettuce is a bit upscale for food jenga connoisseurs; they particularly like the iceberg.)

Place the leaves so they stick out over the edge of the plate about 1 ½ inches. Overlap them to form a sort of plate extension. Now comes the important part. You must select a heavy base food or combination of base foods like meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Although pasta is tasty, it takes up a lot of space and is not recommended.

The most effective arrangement I have seen is a layer of meatloaf in the middle of the plate. Top that with mashed potatoes. Next add some fried chicken and top with green beans. Jengans do not eat the more erudite veggies like broccoli, asparagus, etc. but are particularly fond of beans and peas.

Finish it off with gravy. Beef or chicken or a combination.

Caution: Do not cover the entire plate with your meat and potatoes. Leave the lettuce extension and maybe an inch below for your salad. Salad is an important food group. Here you will line the meat and potatoes with ambrosia salad, jello, and maybe some macaroni and potato salad, if available. Stay away from raw vegetables as they take up valuable space on your plated extravaganza. However, if you are feeling particularly adventurous, top the salad portion with black olives and cold shrimp. This provides a classy addition to your meal and your friends will be in awe of your adventurousness.

Don’t forget dessert. To avoid a second trip, or the tragedy that a dessert may no longer be available, select your chosen desserts. Cookies work well in jenga. Line the plate with cookies and top with cake or pie. Ice cream tops the delight. If necessary, fill 2 or 3 plates, depending on your dexterity.
Now, grasp your dinner plate with your strongest hand. Take your dessert plate or plates in your other hand. Move to your table with you dinner plate pointing the way. Ask the waitress for extra napkins.

Enjoy!

PS Happy birthday to me and other Virgos.

Bert- The best bartender in Oakland

Bert –the best bartender in Oakland

It might be the height of prestige or it might be very pathetic to admit that a bartender in an airport bar knows you by name. But alas, it’s true.

Bert, AKA the best bartender in Oakland, knew us. Kerry and I spent so many evenings in Oakland waiting for a Southwest flight that Bert knew us. He was fabulous.

Everything in his bar was the “best in Oakland.” The best pizza in Oakland; the best chardonnay (pronounced with hard “ch” as in church) in Oakland; the best pinot grigio in Oakland.

But Kerry and I knew Bert was truly the best bartender in Oakland.
You see, Bert would take your drink order and then he would ask, “What time is your flight? What gate you go out of?” Then he knew when to kick you out. He would bring you the check and say, “You pay now! You go to your gate. Now!” What service. Bert took his job seriously and felt responsible for his patrons.

Why can’t more people be like Bert? Bert, I hope you are enjoying your retirement in the Philippines. Kerry and I really miss you!

Fathers: Don't travel with small children

I came up to Oakland to help a friend who was being audited by the IRS. The audit was postponed so I changed my flight and am heading home. As I have “A” list status with Southwest I get to go through the “first class”  line. Now, there is nobody in the regular line so it doesn’t really matter whether I use that line or the ordinary line, but I can; so I do.

There is one man in line – but he has two small children. I’d say they are about 2 and 4. The security agent asks for their boarding passes. He doesn’t know he needs a boarding pass for each of them and only has his own. Rather than look into his ticket jacket he argues with the security agent telling her that he was told to get the passes at the gate. He stands there – dumb look on his face. She smiles. The kids are standing there. I’m waiting. The non first class line is empty. Really? I need to go to the bathroom.

Finally he pulls out the ticket jacket and there are the boarding passes. In they go. I breeze through and choose a different line than they are in.

Alas, I find them in the boarding area. They each have a Starbucks drink. One little girl kicks over the grande iced chocolate. It’s in a giant blob all over the floor. Dad picks the cup up but just stares at the mess. Finally he mops part of it up and accidentally drops the canvas bag with children’s toys on top of what’s left of the chocolate puddle.

He takes the two-year old somewhere – bathroom maybe? The older one kicks over the vente coffee and it’s all over the floor. Well, at least we still have the grande lemonade. Oops he just sat on it. The girl had put it on the chair believing it would be safer there!