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An Oscar Winning Performance

Michael Leave a comment

The Academy missed an award last night.  That was the best performance by an individual or individuals who are supposed to be care givers but clearly don’t care.  The nominees were:

Your doctor who said you really needed to lose about 10 pounds between appointments and on your way out asked you if you’ve been to the new seafood house off the interstate.  But he lost his edge when you returned 6 months later and measured out only an 8 pound loss.  He had the chance to chastise you for the un-lost pounds, instead he said was that you did well and you’ll get those last two pounds in another month or two.

The second nomination was a group effort that went to the local nursing home administration in total for their performance before the local television news reporter when refusing to answer questions on air about the apparent loss of 3 residents who wandered away from the facility and hadn’t been seen for 2 days, the alarm being raised only after a family member of one of the missing elders reported the situation to the police.  In what looked like a lock for this award the group lost their opportunity to take home the gold when it was discovered that the administrator had already disciplined, fired, and reported to the state licensing boards the entire nursing staff that was on duty the day the three just walked through a door that was supposed to be locked but was left open so staff memebers could sneak outside for a smoke break.  They further fell from consideration when after they found the trio they not only welcomed them back without trying to blame the oldsters but then gave them a month’s stay for free.

The third nominee was a dark horse, your very own auto mechanic who said on three different occasions that he couldn’t find the same noise you heard every time you turned left on a gravel road.  Just when everyone was certain that he was going to charge you an arm and a leg for each visit and double dip by charging the warranty company as well, he found the problem, made a call to some mechanic friends of his, fixed your problem for parts only, then reported the issue to the manufacturer who is now recalling all 5 million models for the same safety repair.  In a surprise move, the National Transportation Safety Board awarded your mechanic the Silver Torque Wrench for unrelented test driving.

And the winner is…your dentist.  This supposed integral cog of your health care team takes the first five minutes of each of your semi-annual visits to harangue you for not flossing, not flossing enough, not flossing with the right kind of floss, or not flossing correctly, while scraping at your defenseless teeth with a metal probe the size of Rhode Island, refusing to let you inhale for periods of up to 3 minutes, and then telling you on your way out that he no longer takes your insurance, payment is expected immediately, don’t forget to make your next appointment, and please, have a nice day.

Congratulations!

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Credit Where Credit Is Due?

Michael 1 Comment

Over the last couple of weeks, we’ve seen a lot of movies.  It must be winter.  It’s much more comfortable sitting in a cozy theater nibbling on popcorn than speeding around an ice skating rink at 15 miles per hour in 15 degree weather.  Then again, maybe we just like movies better.  For whatever reason, over the last couple of weeks we’ve seen a lot of movies.

You’ll remember that a couple of weeks ago we wrote about watching a television network’s idea of the greatest movie ever filmed.  We disagreed with that but we watched it all the way through.  It was from the 1940’s so you really didn’t have to watch it all the way through to read all the credits.  They were all in front of the movie, some before the title, some after, and all of them taking a grand total of about a minute to read.

The movie that we saw most recently was filmed in the 1990’s and was nobody’s pick of the greatest movie ever filmed but not a bad story.  We stayed at the end of the movie to read the credits all the way through.  That took about 7 minutes.  Then there was the last of the new releases that we saw in the cozy theater with the popcorn.  It was nominated for a bazillion Academy Awards and someday will be on somebody’s list of the greatest movies ever filmed but we’ll probably disagree with that also.  We stayed all the way through to read those credits and those took about 15 minutes to read. 

So where are we going with this?  We aren’t sure either but we wonder who all these people are.  Some of them clearly have something to do with the movie.  That might be the Third Unit Director.  Director of any unit should have something to do with the movie important enough to get noticed.  But Assistant Paint Foreman?  We’re not kidding.  How about Catering Auditor?  We don’t doubt that somewhere in the making of this movie somebody audited the caterer’s invoices.  And for that they are mentioned at the end of the movie.  Hmm.   

Many people are involved in bringing you your morning newspaper.  There are the writers, the editors, the publisher.  These peoples’ names are prominently mentioned so you can ooh and ahh over them.  And several people are required to get you your semi-annual teeth cleaning.  There is the dentist and then there is the hygienist, and the office receptionist.  You probably won’t see the name of the person who services the dental chair on your dentist’s statement any more than you’ll see the person who changes the oil in the car of the person who delivers you newspaper noted on the masthead.  Yet aren’t these the equivalent of the catering auditor? 

So we have to ask, are we being too generous with the credits for those who work in the movies, or not generous enough with those who really make a difference in our lives.  We wonder about that.  We really do.

 

The Real Reality Show Blog

Based on life as noticed by Both of We
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Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Will the Real St. Valentine Please Stand Up

Michael Leave a comment

Sunday evening we were at home having our Valentine’s Day dinner.  (Steak au poivre, green beans sautéed in butter and olive oil with onions and mushrooms, baked potato with a pepper cream sauce, and a salad of mixed greens with strawberries, walnuts, and feta.  We never made it to dessert.) (Yes, we go out a lot but we still know how to cook and cook we do when it’s a truly special occasion.)  Work schedules and other conflicts forced us to hold our celebration off for a few days.  It happens.  And it was worth the wait.      

While we were dining we wondered what is it about this Valentine guy that has made greeting card companies, florists, jewelers, and for some, restaurants so much money around the globe and over the years.  The most common story is that of Valentine, priest and martyr of third century Rome during the reign of Claudius II, also known as Claudius the Cruel.  He believed that his army was not giving its all because the men were more attached to their wives and families than to their emperor.  To solve that little problem he banned marriages.  No marriages, no families, strong fighting men.  He didn’t count on Valentine still performing marriage ceremonies even under the ban.  Valentine was imprisoned and ordered to be executed.  While in prison Valentine became enamored with the daughter of his jailer and legend goes on to say that on his last day in prison he wrote her a farewell letter and signed it, “With Love, Your Valentine.”

We sort of like that story.  It has a love interest, a creepy villain, a secret plot twist (priests aren’t supposed to fall in love with women, even in the late 200’s), and a story that hangs around even after almost 1,750 years.  But there are other stories.  There were other Valentine’s, other Valentines who were priests, and other Valentines who were martyred and became saints.  We still like that story.  And it is St. Valentine of Rome whose feast day was set to the day of his execution, February 14.

But how did that get from there to a Hallmark moment?  Let’s fast forward some 1100 years from the 270’s to the 1370’s and to English poet Geoffrey Chaucer.  In the poem Parliament of Foules he wrote, “For this was sent on Seynt Valentyne’s day Whan every foul cometh ther to choose his mate” and thus linked February 14 as the day we go in search of our best link.  In fact, it was already becoming common in late 13th and 14th century England and France for lovers to exchange letters, poems, and gifts in mid-February as the weather lightened.

There are many Valentines who have been canonized by many Popes over many years. (There was even a Pope Valentine.  He served for only 40 days in 827.)  In all there are 12 St. Valentines, the most recent, St. Valentine Berrio-Ochoa, a Spaniard who served as bishop in Vietnam until his beheading in 1861, was elevated to sainthood by John Paul II in 1988.  Twelve Valentine’s, twelve months.  We didn’t do the research but you can probably find a St. Valentine Day almost any time of the year if you, like us, were busy on February 14.    

Then, when you have another one as special as we have in each other, every day can be a day to celebrate your love for each other, even if it isn’t the real Valentine’s Day.

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

I Would Do Anything – Not!

Michael 1 Comment

She of We’s youngest went skiing last weekend.  Even before he called in the injury report we decided we don’t want to go flying down a mountain on skinny pieces of fiberglass with nothing between us and the ground but Under Armour, down filled puffy ski jackets, and 17 inches of snow.  As we thought more of it, we definitely don’t want to go skiing towed behind a boat at great speeds with nothing between us and drowning but flimsy swimwear.  And thus was born the Hole in the Bucket List.  As in, if we put this on a list and it fell through a hole in that bucket before we got around to kicking it, we wouldn’t miss it at all.

It’s a simple premise.  Think of what you haven’t done, don’t really want to do, and could live your entire life without ever doing it.  There are lots of things you’d never want to do.  Periodontal surgery is one that She of We would like to get through life without ever having experienced.  That might be a bit difficult to put on the Hole in the Bucket List because it might not be completely up to her.  Circumstances may say someday she’ll have to.  However, going on safari is another of her unwanteds that clearly makes the Hole in the Bucket List.  It’s something that though many would love to do before they shuffle off this mortal rock, it’s something she could care less for.  Others are running a marathon, running with the bulls, and having any parts of the body other than the ears that already are pierced.

He of We’s Hole in the Bucket List centers on unsupported flight.  His list includes parasailing, cliff diving, and bungee jumping.  Rappelling, rock climbing, and parachuting would also make the list but people in the military made him do those already.  Although he lived through them they aren’t likely to ever make a return for him.

Now, we too can be adventurous.  Regular readers know that we have as much fun, quite often more, than the next guy.  And if you think riding around in a miniature roadster on an interstate highway at the speed limit with the top down (sometimes in the rain) doesn’t catch our collective breaths, you’re very mistaken.  It is that there are limits to what we feel we need to fulfill our lives.  Alligator wrangling is outside those limits.

What’s on your list?  Add a comment, pop your least favorite, indeed least thought of pastime on it, and we’ll see just where we won’t be going.  No task is too trivial to be Hole in the Bucket List worthy.  Something you’ve never done, aren’t likely to be doing, and could care less if you ever do even though others might consider it a point to take before they are taken away.

Now let’s see, we also have no bull riding, or tornado chasing, or visiting pyramids outside of Las Vegas. Really.  No.   

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Drive On

Michael 1 Comment

It’s been a few months now.  Actually it was last October.  It was then that we wrote the most recent installment of cars driving into buildings, a phenomenon happening so regularly we can’t miss it.  If you’re thinking you must have missed it, you didn’t.  We never got around to posting that one.  Something else more blogworthy must have come up.  Then we took another look at it and it and found something else instead. Then something else.  Then Thanksgiving.  Then Christmas.  Before we knew it, it have gotten moved into the “unposted” folder and just sat around. And since then we’ve actually not thought much at all about cars being driven willy and nilly into buildings.  Until yesterday. 

Oh buildings were still being assailed by cars.  Some were little taps into a door frame.  Some we quite spectacular and took out entire corners of buildings.  And then there was yesterday.

Yesterday there was this perfectly innocent building, sitting along a perfectly picture perfect downtown main street.  So perfect a main street it is that it is named Main Street.  And along that street were stores you don’t see much along main streets lately.  There is an insurance agency with just a couple of agents always handy, a deli-style sandwich shop where everybody knows your name, a florist with real flowers in real vases and a carnation for you, a real estate office with pictures of houses for sale taped to the inside of the front window, and up until yesterday, a chiropractic office manned by Dr. C., of course.  Now gone is the building façade.  Gone is the receptionist’s desk.  Gone is the waiting room.  Gone is most everything in the front half of the building.  Fortunately the driver responsible for doing all that did it along about 8:30 at night, long after everyone in the office had themselves gone.

So why such a big deal over such a little office along such a little street in such a little town?  We’ve written about big buildings getting plowed into by big trucks.  We even wrote about an airport getting in the way of a crazy lady on a mission.  So now we’re up to some 350 words about that little office along a little street in a little town. But it’s special. It’s She of We’s town.  And it’s her Main Street and her deli and and her florist and her buildings.  These are people she knows. 

Now it’s not just an interesting topic to post for you to read.  It’s not trying to figure out how many building assaults per how many days. Now when we pose just how distracted does a driver have to be to not notice a two story, glass front, brick and mortar building getting bigger and bigger in the windshield it’s a building that we’ve seen, driven past, walk by, pointed to.    

We know we aren’t the only ones to know a building that has come under attack.  In the Buffalo NY area, petitions began circulating calling for guard rails around buildings at street level for goodness sake!  But now She of We enters the elite club of not only knowing buildings that have been disrupted by drunk, disorderly, or distracted drivers.  She knows the people in that building too.

Where will it end?  Last year in our metro area almost 100 times did the cars and trucks run through mortar and glass.  We stopped counting at the end of the year.  We still noticed them.  We pointed them out on the news. We just didn’t pay attention to them.  Until yesterday.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

Old & Fat Trumps Drunk & Stupid

Michael Leave a comment

Let’s just say it was a long week in the North East.  Freezing temps, icy rain and periods of snow certainly didn’t help.  By the end of the week, we were ready to visit one of our favorite watering holes and we weren’t looking for water.  She of We wanted wings, He of We wanted bourbon.  A snowy rush hour had everyone ready for a warm happy hour. This was the place we go to make that hour happy.  Here we have seen regulars and irregulars, old owners and new owners, children of owners and now grandchildren of owners.  We’ve been around a whiler.

The bar was crowded so we sat at one of those bar top tables on stools that you figure out quickly why they are called that.  One half of one of our favorite couples came over and joined us. His She was out of town on business so it was a party of three.  As the place started to fill up, we found ourselves surrounded by the youth of America. Twenty-somethings who needed cheap beer to guzzle and women to annoy. That’s when the trouble started. 

Our friend headed home and we decided to stay and catch the band. You know how we love live music.  We quickly figured out that we have gained a super power when it comes to twenty-somethings. Invisibility. You see, we were in a crowd and nobody paid any attention to us.  Nobody even noticed us.  And noticeability is one of our best attributes. It was while we were in our cloak of invisibility that one particularly inebriated youth, perhaps on his maiden voyage to Drunkville, perhaps a regular visitor, decided he was going to help himself to She of We’s wing basket.

Please understand that usually She of We is very generous but having her wings grabbed without permission is a big no-no.  We’ve all visited Drunkville a time or two so we’re no strangers to bad, drunken behavior. He of We protested on her behalf and that’s when it turned ugly. Drunk Boy and his buddy decided that insulting us would somehow make us feel bad. They thought by using words like old and fat that we would be impressed by them. (A note before we continue.  You know all these anti-bullying programs going on in schools?  Well, once they hand out the diplomas and these fools are on their own, add an adult beverage to an adult in training and it goes right out the window.  We like to call it Beer Backbone or just plain ignorance. We know your parents taught you better.) 

Anyway, She of We decided that enough was enough. We’re old, remember. We’ve been around, remember.  She politely informed the drunken buffoons that it was time for their leave.  Yeah right, they said and not too politely, nor too intelligently.  That was went she calmly moved from her stool, parted the sea of newbies like Moses parting the Red Sea, and aimed herself right at the owner.  Without blinking an eye, she informed him that he needed to bid these guests adieu.  He followed her back to our table, tapped the lads on the shoulder and let them know, just as calmly, that it was time to go. The look of shock on their stupid, young, drunken faces was priceless. No pomp, no circumstance, and no drama. Just “you’re outta here.” 

Both of We hope that our twentysomething children never act like that but we know they will. We only hope that some nice, old, fat couple will be able to set them straight.  And when called for, send them to the door.  And to the optometrist the next day.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

How-ow Fake Can You Sinnngg, By the Bright TV Lights

Michael Leave a comment

The classy ones know it.  No guessing.  No wondering.  Just doing.  Aretha knows that.  The story is that when she heard about Beyonce lip-syncing the Star Spangled Banner she laughed about it.  We figure it’s because we know that she knows what’s important, what’s immaterial, and what’s classy. 

Classy is the lady who sang the real thing.  She admits that 40 degree weather isn’t ideal for singing.  Ask all those high school choral directors trying to get their charges to sing that very same song in that and lower temperatures during the last games in the high school football season.  It isn’t easy, but they did it.  So did she.  The real she.  The classy she.  It’s not always about doing it.  It’s about saying that you did when you did, that you didn’t when you didn’t, and caring why there’s a difference.

Lip-syncing controversies go back to Milli Vanilli and did they or didn’t they.  They did and had to give their Grammy back.  Probably the Archies did also.  We’re sure those cartoon characters that somehow managed to put out two Top Ten hits including a Number One single weren’t doing their own singing especially since they were cartoon characters. 

Even in our suburban world of grown up garage bands headlining Friday fish fries at neighborhood bars we can’t get away from lip-syncing.  Seems there are at least two, possibly three bands that “pack them in” at local bar-wannabe-nightclubs that can’t do it consistently without their own CDs loaded into the sound board.

So who got the class here?  There were other performances in that same 40 degree weather.  Kelly Clarkson did it.  James Taylor did it.  The marine band did it.  Except when told not to.  Classy?  Yes.  But for our money, the real class acts are those kids singing the national anthem in the cold, in front of all those other kids and parents who really just want to watch the game, go home, and have some hot chocolate.  Those are the ones who have the most class.  And you can’t fake that.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

Hooked on Fonics

Michael Leave a comment

We were sitting at a bar nibbling on appetizers and reading the closed captioning on the television above it.  We’re not certain how many hearing challenged individuals use closed captions but it is a boon to the bar industry.  Anyway, we were watching the printout and wondering if they use real people with court reporter skills or computer voice recognition software.  Certainly if it is software the mistakes are understandable since English so rarely looks like it sounds.  But then again, it seems that lately it so rarely sounds like it sounds also.

It wasn’t too much before we were sitting at that particular bar on that particular day that we were sitting on He of We’s sofa watching the season’s long overdue first hockey game (we won, yippee!) and the post game show that followed.  It was during that particular post game show after that particular game on that particular day that we decided we will never ever watch that particular sports anchor again.  He couldn’t even get past the intro without stumbling over the words that marched across the teleprompter.  Remember, this was after a win.  The intro could have been, “The long awaited first game brings home a win.  Details after these messages.”  We could have come up with that!

He wasn’t one of the weekend fillers who might have been a little nervous over the extended exposure that post game anchor duty would bring to him or her.  No, here was the channel’s number one sports guy.  So we gave him the benefit of the doubt.  Perhaps he hadn’t gotten his contact lenses in the correct eyes.  Perhaps the teleprompter went on the blink and translated everything into Latin.  So we waited until after these messages to hear the recap of the game we just spent three hours watching.  Three “ahs,” four “umms,” one complete stoppage in the middle of a sentence, and a feeling he was seeing the video clips for the first time were enough for us to change the channel, never to go back when he is in front of the camera. 

The only task this man had to do to perform his job, one for which he is quite handsomely recompensed, was read.  He didn’t have to write the copy, he even didn’t have to understand the copy.  He only had to read it.  And he couldn’t pull that off.  Was he blinded by new spotlights?  Were his contacts really not in correctly?  Was he as drunk as the post game interviewees appeared to be?  Was he completely clueless about hockey?  We’ll never know.  And now we don’t even care.  Although we do often wonder why the post any kind of game interviewees all seem to be drunk as lords.  But that’s a post for another day.

This whole event reminded She of We of a telephone solicitor who called her and then couldn’t get her name right.  She of We has a very simple name.  It has only six letters in the perfect ratio of vowels to consonants.  It is a classic English-speaking American name.  Yet not only did the solicitor not pronounce it correctly, when She of We brought this to the solicitor’s attention, she became arrogant and demanded to know why she was being disrespected when she was just trying to do her job.

There aren’t that many jobs where all you have to do to execute them successfully is to read out loud.  You’d think if you got one of them, you’d take a little time to, umm, practice.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

Welcome to 2013. Now Go Away

Michael Leave a comment

Just because we don’t make resolutions until Spring is upon us (See Resolving to Keep it Real, Dec. 31, 2012) doesn’t mean we can’t be urged into encouraging others to change their behavior post haste.  We’ve gotten to experience some horrible behavior that could fill an entire year in only the first week.  And that behavior must stop.

We encountered the one that put us over the edge while we were coming out of the store and walking to our car, some 150 feet from the entrance.  As we approached it, the anything but a gentleman sitting in the car parked next to ours, started beeping his horn.  And then again.  Longer.  And then we saw why.  His certainly long-suffering wife was behind us trudging through the cold and the slush with their packages.  Apparently he felt it more prudent that he stay in the warm car while she goes into the store and buys his wares.  He also felt it more prudent that he sit in the warm car rather than picking her up at the entrance.  He knew she was done with their shopping.  He was honking the horn at her.  There was the extent of his chivalry.  He honked the horn so she didn’t have to wander throughout the lot looking for him.  Then to top things off, he let that car continue to sit in the parking space.  The one that had a snow bank just outside the passenger door.  When She of We said a bit too out loud, “He won’t even back out for her so she doesn’t have to climb through the snow,” the long-suffering wife said, “It’s ok. I’m used to it.”  She shouldn’t have to ever become used to such rude behavior.  So for 2013 he should resolve to figure out how to get along without her because eventually she’ll realize that also.

Other behavior we’d like to see not continued in 2013 is the media fascination with having to title all the news.  No longer are they happy reporting it.  Now they have to make up catch phrases to go along with it.  So please, take your fiscal cliff and go jump off of it.  Otherwise let’s at least have a little fun with it.  Since we’ve either avoided it or fallen off of it depending on what analyst is babbling, it should no longer be part of the evening news’ scripts.  But just in case it should sneak back into common parlance we propose the Fiscal Cliff Drinking Game.  Every time you hear that phrase you must drink a shot then call your congressman. 

Speaking of, and to, Congress, we’d like to see you go away.  You’re not doing anybody any good.  Make you’re next point of business for this session abandonment.  If you don’t have the decency to put yourself out of work, have the decency not to lie to the American people about the work you’re doing.  The “heroic” first vote to avoid the “fiscal cliff” saved the American worker about 20 cents for every $1,000 he or she makes in salary in what was supposed to be the temporary income tax increase.  It did not address the $2 per $1,000 increase in social security and other federal taxes and fees that will be withheld per month in 2013.  That means about $50 less per paycheck if your one of the average Americans getting paid every other week and if all those paychecks up add to $50,000 by the end of the year.

Finally for the fine men, women, and undecided in Washington please do not use 2013 to tell us how many jobs you’ve created.  Unless you also own a company that employs legal American workers you can’t create any.  Leave creating jobs to the business that actually hire, and pay, employees.  Intern and housekeeper positions don’t count.

Something else we’d like to see go away are all those special parking spaces around stores and restaurants.  We love our elder friends and neighbors.  We’ve often said that anybody over 80 can do whatever they feel like.  By then, they’ve earned it.  (See Entitlement Program, March 29, 2012.)  We’d like to see some of those parking spaces reserved for “Mothers to be and mothers of young children,” and for those picking up dinner to go, and even for those with Handicapped placards, turned into spaces for our Older Friends and Neighbors.  The eighty-somethings who are still driving do it well, and they aren’t the ones cajoling their doctors into signing HP applications for their high blood pressure.  Why should they have to walk 300 feet from the lot to the lobby?   Let’s face it, if you’re just running in for dinner, you can afford to run from a few yards away, or bring one of the kids to run inside while you circle the block.  So you’re a mother of young children.  Being parents of former young children from the days when there were no such preferred spots we can tell you our best shopping trips were those with the kids left at home.  Leave them at home.

Now that we are well into the 21st century, a time of unprecedented public protection against ourselves, we want to see the sale of sleds that cannot be steered or stopped stopped.  You can’t by an extra-large, sugary soft drink in New York City but you can put four 7-year-olds on a plastic sleeve, push them down a hill, and wish them luck knowing at the bottom is a 4 lane roadway separated from the top by a dozen 45 year old oak trees.  You can’t buy a lighter that takes at least three steps to ignite to start your grill for the safety of a child who may not understand that it isn’t a candy stick but you can buy an oversized Frisbee that sets the same child spinning uncontrollably on its downhill voyage over the same tree lined hillside.  We love winter sports.  Sledding, skiing, and skating make January and February bearable.  But let’s do it safely.  Nobody would ever put children on bicycles without brakes or a wheel that steers in April.  Let’s say goodbye to the winter version and stop making children headlines on the evening news.

Do we seem a little cranky today?  We’re sorry.  Usually we are quite upbeat and make the most of what we have.   Sometimes you have to take away to have better.  These are some things we like to see taken away.  Do you have others?  Would you like to see Black Friday not start on Thursday?  Is it time to make the baggage, premium seating, and boarding priority fees go away even if it does mean airfares go up?  Can we stop with gas prices that end in tenths of a cent per gallon?  Let us know.  We can be cranky together.  And then, that can go away too.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

Real Restaurant Rules

Michael 3 Comments

It’s not often that we invoke actual rules for Real Reality Show Blog readers.  After all, real reality is what you make of it.  But last year was not a banner year for eating out.  We saw poor behavior by almost every facet of the restaurant industry from cooks to coat check attendants.  It was on New Year’s Eve that we finally had to say, “Somebody has got to take control here.”  And those somebodies are us! 

Last summer we found out that if we walk up to a hostess stand and there are three or more workers there, we should turn around and walk away.  We’re not certain but we think that two of the three may have been on their cell phones with each other.  Whatever they were doing they weren’t working on seating the next party.  Since there was then a lack of available seating there seemed little else for the hostesses to do.  Folding linen, polishing flatware, bussing tables, doing anything would have been preferred over just standing around in front of potential patrons waiting for a place to sit.  A tip for the front of the house.

Just a few weeks ago we found out that if you can smell the garlic as you are walked to your table, don’t order the scampi.  We did but She of We did anyway.  It wasn’t all that bad.  Sometimes it’s good to sleep on the couch.  And more and more we need to ask if al dente when applied to vegetables is a code word for raw.  It confuses our mouths when the broccoli is hard and crunchy and the pasta is slightly over done in that not quite mushy manner that happens when you over re-heat what you prepped earlier in the day.  A couple tips for the back of the house.

But by and large, our most disappointment came at the hands of those into whose hands we put our dining experience, the servers.  We’ve tried hinting.  We’ve left a tip here and there.  We’ve held tips back here and there!  We think it’s time for rules.  Real rules for restaurant servers.

                    Rule Number 1.  Tell us the specials when you greet us.  We hate when we are seated, given menus, asked for drink orders, finally decided what we want to eat and then have our server say, “Let me tell you about this evening’s specials.”  You can tell us but either we’re going to not listen because we want to remember what it is we decided on from the menu or you’re going to have to go away again while we reconsider our choices. 
                    Rule Number Next.  When you take our order would be a good time to tell us the chef’s favorite, your favorite, or if there is something everybody has raved about that evening.  It was at our New Year’s Eve dinner at a very fine restaurant with normally very fine food and service that our waitress insisted on telling us what she likes to eat for each course AFTER each course was served.  By the time the dessert menu came out we thought about just having her order for us.   
                    Rule Number Next and a Half.  Please taste what you serve.  Although we appreciate the honesty of “I don’t know, I never had it here,” we don’t appreciate the lack of attention to detail that you wouldn’t want to know everything there is to know about the food you serve.   We watch all the cooking shows but we still don’t know all the jargon or even all the food.  Is broccolini a pasta or a vegetable.  Or is that boccone?  Bocconcini is the pasta?  You can help us.  Robert Irvine would be proud of you.
                    Rule Number the One After That.  Pay attention to the table’s flow.  If we are still working on our appetizers, do not bring out the soup.  It was around Thanksgiving when the last thing we wanted was more turkey.  So we ambled over to a nearby Italian restaurant where we had the ultimate plan.  A smokey fonduta, a classic Caesar, some decadently cheesey pastas, topped off with a course of zeppole.  Heaven.  What we got was our salad first, the appetizer and entrée together, and we left without ordering dessert.  There is a rule (and not ours) that never should new plates be served until old plates are cleared.  Unfortunately like most speed limit laws that seems to have turned into a suggestion.  We were even willing to ignore the fact that the waitress reminded us at each table visit that it was her first night.  We’re actually the perfect couple to break in new staff.  We’re very low maintenance, rarely order off the menu, and generally tip well.  Then there are those times when even we can’t turn the lifelong served one into a number one server.  
                    Rule Next to the Last.  Know why you stopped by.  We are convinced that most wait persons have no idea why they stop back after serving a course to ask if everything is ok.  Well, that’s the reason.  It’s not to see if we’re enjoying ourselves.  It’s an opportunity to confirm that what we were served is prepared properly and as we ordered it.  The question should be, “Is everything as you expected?”  If you get the urge to tell us that you thought we’d enjoy it even though you always have it with chicken, please see one of the rules above. Something up there covers that.
                    Rule Last.  When you bring us our check and we decide to pay in cash don’t ask us if we want change.  If you were working at the mega mart and someone handed over a wad of bills for their groceries would you ask if the shopper wanted change?  Assume we want what is ours.  If you feel you have to say something, say, “I’ll be right back with your change.”  If we decide to share some of that with you, we’ll let you know.

So for the waitstaff workforce out there, there are our tips for you.  No, not tips, not advice, not veiled hints.  Those are our rules.  There aren’t hard to follow and those who do will be richly rewarded.  We have some favorite servers we don’t even wait for change from.  That’s a rule too.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?