He’s Famous!

I finished work on Friday and was scheduled to take the 11:30 p.m., red eye flight home from Los Angles. Because it was going to be a long flight, I wanted to walk or stand until it was time to board.

Even if I had wanted to sit, there wasn’t a single vacant seat in the waiting area. After wandering around for a awhile, I decided to queue up and stand in line for the last 10 or so minutes before boarding began. I was second in line, and the woman in front of me immediately turned around and began talking to me.

“Do you see that man over there?”

I looked to where she was pointing, and she continued without giving me a chance to respond. “He’s famous.”

“He is?” I look at the man again. He was well dressed, had gray hair, and appeared to be in his seventies. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know his name but I know that he’s a senator,” she explained, placing extra emphasis on the word ‘senator.’

Again, before I could reply, she continued, “Or a newscaster.”

“He’s a senator or a newscaster, but you don’t remember his name?”

“No—but I remember his face. If you give me a second, his name will come to me.”

She was so excited, that she literally couldn’t stop talking, it sounded more like a string of nonsense words as she tried to force his name out of her memory bank.

“Babble, babble, babble…Maybe John?”

I smiled and nodded, and silently wished that I had kept walking for the last ten minutes. Then I found myself wondering if she was going to be seated next to me on the flight.

“He’s the second famous person that I’ve seen tonight.”

“Oh yeah—what was that person’s name?”

“I don’t remember,” she replied thoughtfully, “But he was tall and black. He’s a basketball player.”

At this point, I was seriously considering stepping out of the line, but I was now wedged in by the people who had lined up behind me. An unnamed tall, black basketball player? An unnamed senator or newscaster? This was getting ridiculous.

She continued, “I looked at him with a look that said, ‘I know who you are.’ Then he looked back at me with a look that said, I know, that you know, who I am.”

Did you talk to him?” I asked, already regretting the question as it left my lips.

“No, but he knew, that I knew, that he was famous!” Repeating what she had already told me. As she finished, a man walked into the gate area, and she exclaimed, “There he is! Do you recognize him?”

“Ummmm…no, I don’t recognize him.” By this time, I was quite sure that neither of the men were famous, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.”

The loudspeaker crackled, interrupting our conversation, and the lady behind the counter announced that they were ready to begin the boarding process.

“Global service members can board now…”

The ‘senator’ and the ‘basketball player’ stepped forward and checked in. As I watched them disappear down the hallway leading to the plane, the lady turned around and declared, “See! I told you that they were famous!”

Of course, not all Global Service members are famous, but I have to admit that the situation was funny. When I boarded, I walked through 1st class, and saw that they were both already seated in that section. The basketball player smiled at me as I walked past him, and I smiled back. I wonder if he knew, that I knew, that he was famous?

I was seated in the row immediately behind first class, so I had plenty of leg room, but more importantly, SHE wasn’t seated next to me! ?

Skyline Chili

Skyline Hot Sauce

One of the things that I love about traveling is going to local restaurants and trying regional foods. I’m training near Dayton, Ohio this week, and a local favorite is called, ‘Skyline Chili.’

The restaurant was established in 1949 by a man named Nicholas Lambrinides. Nicholas grew up in the small village of Kastoria in Greece. His family moved to America when he was young, and he dreamed of opening a restaurant with one of his mother’s recipes—chili. It’s different from any chili that you’ve ever tasted before, and the secret ingredient is a closely guarded family secret. People have guessed—nutmeg? Cinnamon? Chocolate?

He opened the restaurant on Price Hill, located on the west side of Cincinnati, and the restaurant’s name pays tribute to the city’s skyline.

The concept is bizarre—spaghetti topped with chili, and cheese. When Served this way, it’s referred to as a 3-Way. A 4-Way is a 3-Way topped with chopped onions or red beans. A 5-Way is 3-Way with chopped onions and red beans.

You’re probably scanning back over the last paragraph wondering if you read it correctly. Yes—yes you did! A 5-Way is spaghetti topped with the secret-recipe chili, cheese, chopped onions, and red beans. Oh, but that’s not it…I’m not finished. This concoction is served with oyster crackers and hot sauce on the side. Both are supposed to be liberally sprinkled over the top, based on the diner’s preferences.

I’ve been told that there’s quite a divide with the locals—either they love Skyline, or they hate it. No middle ground here!

My opinion? Surprisingly, it works! It’s a delicious carb fest, with ingredients that I would never have thought to put together.

P.S. They also serve chili and cheese on a hotdog—their version of a Coney Island Dog.

A 5-Way!

Someone Paid for My Dinner? Who?

I went out to dinner last night, and I brought my book along with me, so it was a nice leisurely experience. When I finished, I asked my waitress for my check. She set it down next to me and enthusiastically said, “Here you you go!”

Something about her tone and actions made me pause for a moment, and as she walked away from the table, I began to wonder why she had just been so overly upbeat. I suspiciously looked down at my bill, and saw that the total was $0.00.

I motioned her back over, and when she was standing by my side again, I told her that she had given me the wrong check. She replied with a smile, “That’s your check!”

“I’m confused,” I admitted.

She leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper, “I was sworn to secrecy, but somebody in the restaurant paid for your dinner.”

I blurted, “Someone paid for my dinner?” Looking around, and seeing nothing to tip me off, I questioned again, “Who?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“You can’t tell me?” I squawked, in an embarrassingly psittacine manner.

“Nope!”

The grin plastered to her face told me that she was enjoying the situation tremendously, so I simply replied, “Thank you!”

“I’ll pass along your message!”

I never found out who paid for my meal, but it was definitely a pleasant surprise. Life is fun! ?

Book #15–The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating

Book#15 was a quick, but enjoyable read. I was especially fond of the dedication, which I included below. In addition to reading the message, make sure to enlarge the picture so you can see the texture of the paper. THIS is one of the reasons why I love books so much—the rich paper just makes me happy. The second reason—the simple joy of turning the pages. Electronic books will never provide that feeling.

According to dictionary.com
—noun
biophilia—a love of life and the living world; the affinity of human beings for other life forms. The rich, natural pleasure that comes from being surrounded by living organisms.

Book #14–The Six Wives of Henry VIII

Wow! This book was interesting, shocking, bewildering, entertaining, and intriguing. It was a big, thick, heavy read and I learned a lot about this time period of English history. Do I have a favorite Queen from this tale? Yes. Wife number four, Anne of Cleves.

I was aware of the words counterpane and disport, but had never seen them in text before—King Henry had both of them! A counterpane is another word for a bedspread or a quilt, and a disport is something that “carries you away” from everyday activities. King Henry’s disports included hunts, tournaments, banquets, balls, and sporting events. The word ‘sport’ is a shortened, more modern version of the word disport. Sports “carry us away,” or create happy diversions from our work and home lives. True, not many of us take part in jousting tournaments like Henry did—just give us football, beer, and a hotdog, and most of us are happy campers!

dis—away
port—to carry (Latin)

Counterpanes…
Disports…

Bucolic—

I’m heading to Boston today, and I’m finally back on a plane again! I had a rental car for the last three weeks, and I drove to NY, VA, and NJ for my trainings.

New Jersey has increasingly become the recipient of unfair press over the years and has earned the moniker, ‘The Armpit of the Nation,’ as well as several other unsavory barbs. I grew up in New Jersey, so I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for the ‘Garden State.’ My hotel room had a beautiful view. I recently learned a new word from a friend of mine—bucolic. Have you ever heard this word before?

Here’s my challenge—use the word bucolic to describe the view from my room last week. Armpit? I should say not!

Can you do it?

Here were some of the responses from when I originally posted this on my Facebook feed—

Debbie—The farm in the distance surrounded by the bucolic fields and clear blue skies gave me a sense of peace amidst all the crazy things going on in the world.

Cathy—This peaceful tableau takes me back to childhood memories of my grandparent’s bucolic farm.

Lisa—The bucolic setting in this photo makes me think of our farm and how much we enjoy our peaceful space and privacy.

Tom—The scene at Cunningham Falls Lake is resplendent in its bucolic regalia.

And the bucaholic is addicted to bucolic surroundings.

Mary—Is this the same Tom that is also the fellow traveler addicted to bucolic experiences in Spain?

Raquel—If one seeks a bucolic state, one need look no further than the beautiful Garden state!

Laura—
Please keep the bucolic qualities of NJ under your hat.

Deb—
New Jersey Haiku
Splitting sky from fields,
Silos on the horizon;
Bucolic Jersey.

Candee—
Haiku Wars—
The view from my room-
A bucolic dream come true,
Bathed in warm sunlight.

Mediocre

I was thinking about the word mediocre the other day. Yes—I think about words. “Medi” is Greek and it means middle, or half-way. Mediocre translates literally to only making it half way up the mountain. Whatever your “mountain” is, climb and conquer it! Don’t settle for mediocrity—strive for excellence instead!