I Miss My Friend.

On cold miserable days, much like the day this is being written, I think back to a similar weather day back in 1995 or 1996. The exact year escapes me. A new media buyer was hired at the agency where I worked. He lived 80 miles away and commuted everyday. On this particular miserable day, this worker left his car lights on and was greeted to a dead battery at the end of the day. I offered my assistance, my jumper cables and a live battery. In a few moments his car came to life, and I had a new friend.

Corey was not your typical friend. He was high maintenance, but in a special lovable sort of way. He drove some people up the wall with his sarcastic sense of humor and a self centered portion of his personality that was part act and part humorous. He was the kind of guy that would be looking for a new job after three days at his current job. He would also call me on the phone, even though he was three desks away, and whisper into his headset that he was “not feeling it” today and we should go hit golf balls or go to beach at lunch. He did it with a cat in the cookie jar smile. He could talk NASCAR with one group of people and then mingle with the President of a Fortune 500 company. He was amazing.

On one particular day, I received a call from Corey (three desks away) asking if I would stop at the local Bob’s to pick up a pair of shoes he liked. They were out of his size at the nearest store in town. I explained that my uncle was very ill, and probably not going to live the week. I was on my way to hospital to visit him after work, and with that no shoe trip was possible. He said he understood and hung up. A few moments later the phone rang again, and once again it was Corey asking if I could pick up his shoes, but adding that my uncle would want him to have these shoes, and if he does pass, he’ll be glad to wear them at the wake in his honor. It was pure Corey, and as I looked over my desk there was his face in full Cheshire cat smile, feet in the air.

The stories are endless, ranging from the weekend he let me use his car while he was away on business, only to leave me with an empty tank of gas and no key to the gas tank. Or the time I was asked to help him for the day to paint his house. Eight visits to the house, and three months later the house was complete. On the flip side, the beers were always cold and the stories were non stop. A few months later as my wife and I were about to get married, there was a knock on the door. It was Corey with a 25 inch television.

As the years passed and we went our separate ways professionally, I knew he was always out there. In fact on one night when I was stuck at work, I asked him to be LeAnn’s date for the night to a special event. In true form, he showed up, dressed up and brought my wife to a wonderful night out. “Got ya covered kid.” I still use the word “kid” often today in remembrance of him.

For some reason God decided he needed him up in heaven far too soon for many of us. It’s been a number of years now, but the gloom of winter makes me think about my friend. I wonder if they allow headsets up in heaven. If so I’m sure he’s working out a deal with some angel over getting the afternoon off.

To Brine or not to Brine...

For Jean my mother in law. We miss you.
Originally posted, November 2009.

My wife and I are a great combination when it comes to holiday festivities. I do the cooking and she does the baking. I could care less about what to get little Suzy for Christmas, instead saving myself for the tough decisions like scalloped or double stuffed potatoes. Oh sure, there are times when mistakes are made, like the cranberry chutney incident of 2004, but we learn and move on.

Thanksgiving, the unofficial start of the festive season used to be the spring training for holiday cooking. Go with the staples and then throw in a test recipe or two. If it stinks, put gravy on it. No one will know the difference. But alas, even the best of plans come to an end as we lost the rights to Thanksgiving dinner. It’s a secondary tradition in this country to claim your holiday. Some are considered away games and some are home games. With the addition of a child, we traded Thanksgiving for Christmas Eve and a minor holiday to be named later. Something like Arbor day or Earth day. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Dinner, then dessert, then wait for Santa. Here’s the problem, Thanksgiving is now at my in-laws. Wonderful people, kind people, good hearted and all the other niceties one can toss in for good measure. It’s just that Mom in law (we’ll call her M2) can’t cook to save her life. Their spice rack consists of salt, pepper and onion powder, and they might make it on to the turkey…IF THE TURKEY WALKED INTO IT AND SPICED HIMSELF UP.

I know you are saying I am being mean and selfish. All very good points, and all coming from people who never had a Thanksgiving dinner from M2. In an effort of good cheer and to show that I’m the awesome son in law they think I am, I offered for the past couple of years to make the turkey here, and bring it to them for our holiday feast. I’ll even throw in some sausage and cranberry stuffing. I know, what a guy.

All was well the first year, although the asked for all the bones to make soup. Those were technically my bones, but in the tradition of giving… Last year while everyone was enjoying a truly tender and delicious turkey, someone asked how it got so juicy. I remarked that I brined the bird (salt, juice sugar and lots of other stuff), to which I heard “hm, that may be why I thought it was a little salty.” No, the ocean is a little salty, the turkey was awesome. Then on to the stuffing. Wonderfully tender, yet with a touch of spice. I was told it had too much kick to it. Once again, a donkey has too much kick, my stuffing was double thumbs up.

So now I am starting my holiday season in doubt. Do I brine, or not brine. Maybe a bread stuffing is better this year. How about just some corn bread. This is stressful stuff. And of course a bad Thanksgiving dinner will stay with you (not like how my mother in laws dinner would stay with you, but you get the point) right through Christmas and beyond. Maybe we should just eat out. Yeah, that’s it. Eat out. Besides it will give us more time to look for Suzy’s gift. At least I think her name is Suzy.

Coupon Madness

On a recent Saturday night, I remember thinking to myself, an early night to bed would leave me fresh and ready to take on the world come Sunday. Basically I was getting on my game face for the Sunday paper. That’s right, I said the Sunday paper. As the years go on the competitive juices remain, but the categories in which you compete in change.

First there was little league, and that was followed by your selection into college, and maybe a girl friend or two along the way. After college you are competing for a new job, and a chance to prove yourself in the business world. From there maybe a softball or golf league, but soon your knees tell you otherwise and you move onto the fantasy sports leagues of baseball and football. If that doesn’t interest you, you are left with coupons. That’s right those silly annoying little inserts in the paper that used to be the first thing you would toss to the side are now your Sunday game of the week. Don’t mess with me on Sunday morning when I’m snipping.

My goal is to look at the grocery bill and make sure it’s 50% less that what it would have been if any grocery hack went in and bought food for the week. And to reach that goal I am going to peck away at it $1.00 at a time. Like any sport there is preparation. First you need to be game ready, and stretching exercises are a must. I mean there is nothing worst than a thumb cramp from your scissors. And ink marks from the pen are bound to happen. You must get through these roadblocks and tough it out.

Next up is a chance to scout the competition. In my house we have advanced scouting as a local grocery story in the next town now sends me their circular on Friday. This week it included double dollar off coupons, valued at up to $3.00. Yes, that’s correct Christmas came early in the Beland household. Just writing this, my juices are flowing. It’s Sunday night and they should be afraid, very afraid when I walk through the door.

Of course, the rest of my family, as they should, ignores me in my sport. On occasion I leave the list of what to get from said grocery store, and without exception there is always a mistake. I have two schools of thought on this. One is that my handwriting and directions are so terrible, mistakes are bound to happen. Or two, my wife knows that with even just a hint of trouble, I end up doing it myself. OK, so maybe I’m a bit possessive with the groceries, but my 50% is on the line. I think she is maybe a 30% saver at best. I mean buying coffee creamer without a coupon. That’s just hurtful to even think about. And mashed potatoes in a container…I need a moment to regroup.

With the holidays around the corner, I am in the best shape of my career. I have multiple email sites helping me out, sharp scissors, and most importantly, not a new hobby in site. My coupon caddy (that’s the thingy that holds my coupons together) is full, up to date, and ready for action. I am thinking about putting on some of that jet black stuff under the eyes next week. A bit much you think. Nah, and I got a coupon for it too.

We're of a Certain Age

Earlier this week a cold reminder of life’s uncertainty came across for many of us as a high school classmate passed away. I hardly knew Laurie Johnson, but I know many in the community did. We live in a funny time as social networking combines with small town relationships to create a constant reunion of sorts. For those of a certain age (or anyone even close to my age), the constant reminder of life’s fragileness is brought to our attention monthly, if not weekly. And for whatever reason Laurie’s passing seems to have hit a tipping point in the category of death, especially those “kids” who just happen to be of “a certain age.”

In recent weeks I’ve touched base with classmates to recant stories of our childhood, or to hear about recent medical issues, or even those who are starting over again in marriage or relationships. In a way, the conversations have not changed all that much, but the fragileness and unforgiving nature of our time certainly has. Class time has been replaced with work and family time. Meetings at school now involve your kids, not you. And wins and losses usually involve the balancing of a check book or some other financial based equation.

But when death hits one of our own, as in a person who was a part of one of the first chapters of your life, it’s different. Not necessarily in a tragic sense, but as a cold reminder that we are no longer playing kickball or worrying about who to take to the prom. I guess it comes when we become those of a “certain age.” It still sucks, and it makes me wish I had a chance to know Laurie just a bit better. We all say that, but we never do. Just a reminder for next time…

IT'S A WAR I TELL YA...

It started around the first of August. A simple “tink” sound along the side of the pool. I thought nothing of it. Then it happened again, and then again. Little did I know that harmless sound was the beginning of something more ominous. . . Something bigger. Something, dare I say sinister. That’s right that innocent sound was the beginning of approximately 4.6 million acorns falling into my yard. And yes I counted them to make sure that number was correct.
I have been told Oak trees shed their acorns every other year. I have also been told that due to the dry conditions we had this summer, that the fruit of the tree may fall early. NO ONE TOLD ME, that the fruit multiplied like bunnies at a woodland Woodstock concert.
So now I rake, not leaves, but acorns. At least with leaves there are some colors to look at, the cool fall temperatures and the nostalgic feeling one gets when working on a seasonal tradition. Dealing with these little knobs of evil is simply no fun. AND THEY KEEP FALLING.
The kicker in all of this are the squirrels. They are laughing at you. Oh sure, not to your face with their little chubby squirrel cheeks, but while on the trees looking down at you. It’s as if they are saying, “hey you, you missed one…no wait, you missed 1,001. Hahahahahahaha.” I’ll fix them. Next time you try and climb my bird feeder, good luck stopping. It’s just a little greasy. No wait, the hair styles on Sha Na Na were a little greasy. You have a cooking spray oil spill on your hands. How do you like it now Mr. Chubby Cheeks?
This past week I spent a good portion of the afternoon raking these “things” in a pile to pick up. 15 piles later I was done. I then had my son pick them up to dump them. I grew a beard while this process took place.
The source of all of this is the mighty Oak tree. I have two of them in the front yard and one that sits over the pool along the side of the property. That one not only tosses acorns in the pool for target practice, but shades it enough to keep the summer water temperature somewhere around 42 degrees. I think I should file suit with whoever had this property around 1890. They were the ones who planted them…I think. Of course I have no way of knowing this, but even so someone has to pay.
In the end all I can do it sit, and watch them drop. One after another, after another and so on... They will soon be followed by 4.6 million leaves, and yes I counted them too. The only good news is that the squirrels are out there now feeding away. Maybe one will get hit in the head with a falling nut. Nothing serious, maybe just a headache or slight concussion. But nothing more. Honest….

Say Hello to my 429 friends -

Recently and reluctantly I joined the social networking site Facebook. I did it under the pretext that it was for work purposes and joining would allow me a better opportunity to see how small businesses network using the internet. That was the official party line. Unofficially it gave me the opportunity to see what the heck everyone else in the world was up to.

Here is what I found out. My wife’s friends are a wonderful friendly sort. They will do anything for you at a moment’s notice and they quickly became my friends. Now I get up to date information on who is going swimming, to the bank or is having a bad day in general. All of it not earth shattering, but nice to know nonetheless. Several of my old high school friends are now part of my list. Recently I got to hear about a cat eating whipped cream, another one planning a 4th of July party, and yet another looking for some sort of farm animal. Those of you on Facebook know all about the farm animals.

The most fascinating part of all of this is the opportunity to voice your two cents on an issue, any issue, any topic, anytime. From a local standpoint it would look something like this.

TOPIC - I going to pick up Pizza, but have no idea where to go.

Friend #1 – Go to top of the hill, they have the best sauce.
Friend #2 – I’m making sauce for supper.
Friend #1 – Really, you did not invite me.
Friend #2 – Yep, then going to the movies
Friend #3 – Whatcha seein!
Friend #1 – I haven’t been to the movies in forever, Waterbury or Southington.
Friend #4 – My husband is playing golf in Southington.
Friend #2 – Don’t know, we pick when we get there.
Friend #1 – Pick, I like sausage and mushrooms.
Friend #5 – Is that a movie
Friend #4 – All my husband does is play golf, never takes me anywhere.
Friend #1 – I think I have a coupon for buy one get one.
Friend #5 – Movies?
Friend #1 – No, Pizza.
Friend #5 – Hey, that’s sounds like fun. I like pizza but have no idea where to go…

Recently while on the road my wife asked my how dinner was with a business associate. I responded then added some comment about the hotel. Party #3 seeing this and not knowing I was 500 miles away on business became concerned thinking we were no longer living together and this was how we communicated. All is well in the household, and the fact that 429 friends are potentially concerned about our well being was very nice. We made this fact known quickly or the next day it would look something like this.

Friend #1 – Hope all is well with you guys.
Friend #2 – Me too. Off to the beach!
Friend #1 – I think Jim is at a beach, without his family.
Friend #3 – No, he is in Buffalo.
Friend #2 – They have beaches in Buffalo?
Thanks for watching out for us…All 429 of you. BNM “Back next month.”