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!