Old Town Neighborhood.

“Walk softly, because the termites are holding hands.”

“Hello, young folks, come on in.  Ready for the keys to your new home?  I’m Doris, agent on duty today.  Can I get you a cola or coffee?  Well, all right, have a seat and we will take a look at our listings.  Excuse me, your names?      I have no manners.” “I’m Jillian, and this is my hubby, Jim.  We are ready to look at homes.” “No, you are ready to buy your home, today.       I will show you the home, point out all it’s special features and then, you will, sign on the dotted line.   That’s all you do.  I will walk you softly through it all.  We can close today,”  said Doris.  She’s the the top seller at Old Town Realty.

“Well, have you folks done some looking around?  You’re young, I bet this is your first home. I thought so.  This is special for you.     We will find the right home for you, today. Where do you want to go, intown or the burbs? It’s your choice.  Since you are young, I already have some affordable listings for you to see.  You’ll sign your offer, today.   A lot of young people want intown, in the old neighborhoods.  I bet you do, too. These homes can be a lot of work, unless you are a handyman.  You won’t have to contract the work out, Jim.  You look like a man of knowledge.  I bet you have the know how to do it all.  Many want to do it themselves.  You can, too,” said Doris.  She wants to go for the close, today.  She will get it.  Doris, ain’t top seller for nothing.

“We’ve been driving around some old, intown neighborhoods, and we just love them. The old red brick homes have the nice, extra wide, wooden porch with a decorative   wooden rail that wraps around all three sides.  There are old wooden steps that climb   from the walk up to the porch.  The large framed windows are great for flower boxes.   A decorative wooden entry door with very nice ornamental wrought iron bars across the door, and on the windows, too.  Also, there are two ornamental wrought iron rails up each side of the steps which rise from the walk to the porch.  I’m sure they all add value to the home,” said Jillian.

“The other houses, on this oak shaded street, have ornamental wrought iron door bars and window bars, too.  Oh, I feel home already, just thinking about it.  One last thing, I really liked, was the nice neighborly hexagonal sidewalk that runs across the front, passing from home to home.  The walk just brings the neighborhood together,” said by Jillian in an excited tone of voice.

“The one thing I really like about the house is that the yard is small, less grass to mow.  Also, one great feature are the two hanging porch swings on each side of the porch. Great for a summer breeze and a nice cold one, when I need it.  I’m sure we will entertain and the porch is extra wide for dinner guests for rest and relaxation, too.  They, too, can enjoy their beverage of choice on the cool shaded porch.  There will be rockers there,” said Jim.

“Sounds like you already know what you want.  Let’s get out of here.  I always say that because there is no time to waste.  Some other young couple is looking at the house right now.  We’ve got to beat them to it.  We will make the best offer that the seller won’t refuse.  You will buy your home today.  I got the papers in hand, all we’ll have to do is fill in the blanks. Then you will sign on the dotted lines, and I will present your offer. The seller will sign while you wait in the car.  This will be a fast deal, let’s get out of here,” said Doris.  They all laugh.

“All right, the old, historic, neighborhood is right up here, on the right.  Getting excited? Yes, the name of the subdivision is ‘Old Town.’  Our agency is exclusive in this neighborhood.  We sell most of the homes.  I sell most of the homes.  That’s why I‘m the top agent.  You got the best one.  I know how to sell homes.  The intown neighborhoods are in high demand.  The first one there usually gets it.  We will get this home today.  Here we go into this lovely neighborhood.  See the shade trees?  Majestic.  Smell the honeysuckle?  Heavenly.  We’re here. Oh, yes, you did say that you already saw the home.  One quick look is all it takes.  I bet you already have mental ownership.  Yes, Hon, this is already your ‘home, sweet, home.'”

“Oh, Jim, this is my home.  I want it.  I can see the window boxes of red geraniums.  Can’t you?  Doris is right.  No need to look inside, you are a handyman.  We will fix it up.  I am so excited,” said, Jillian. “Now, Jill, calm down a little bit.  We do have to look a little closer at  the home.  Maybe we need to call Roy to do an inspection.  He will be able to tell us about the shape of the house and what needs to be done.  I’m going to be doing the work. I need to know,” said Jim, in a bit of an anxious voice. “Oh, Honey, don’t cry.  You want the home, we’ll get it and forget about the inspection.  We’re nervous.  We’re about to sign our lives away.  That’s what I thought on our wedding day, but here we are happily ever after,” said Jim, again.

“Okay, folks, we’ll take a quick look, sign the papers, then get out of here.” All laugh. Doris thinking to herself,  You darn right, we are going to get this home first, today.  That Rosemary is a sly one.  She beat me out of the bungalow, two houses down.  I really sold the home, it was my listing.  I should get all of the commission.  I don’t share anything. 

“I really like the house.  It’s got charm.  Just like my gram’s old neighborhood.  She had a home just like this one, Jim.  I think I’m going to cry, I’m so happy and excited.  My home!”

“Okay, let’s take a look, then run.  Beautiful home, and oh what a porch.  Lemonade in the rockers.  The steps?  Nothing wrong with them.  What do you mean that there are loose  buckled boards with rusted nails popping up?  Just get a hammer and nail them down again.  A loose rail, here?  See, this can be secured with a power drill.  The stairs are pulling away from the porch?  I don’t think so.  What do you mean there are brown spots in the lawn?  A little grass fertilizer will bring it back to life.  No big deal.”  He’s getting difficult.  I know how to deal with a fault finder.  I’ll work with her, not him.

“Oh, Jillian, you’re rocking in the rocker.  And the baby will love it.  No baby yet?  Once you settle in, before a romantic dinner by candlelight, there will be all night loving.  Oh, that just slipped out.  Just reminds me of my nights with Charlie.  Yes, we had five of them.  All from loving.”

Jillian to Jim, “Honey, come on up next to me.  Sit here, in this rocker.  This is a nice sturdy rocker for a stud of a man.  That man is you!”  “What do you mean?  Jill, don’t talk like that, it’s embarrassing.” “But you’re my man, and I’m your woman.  No need to pace, everything will be all right.” “You’re right, Jill, all will be fine.  Already worrying about our baby. Worrying about the future.” “Honey, the future is now.  Tomorrow will be tomorrow.  Let’s enjoy today.”

“Ready to sign the papers?  We can go as low as you want on the bid, the seller is really motivated.  She will take your offer.” Doris to herself, The seller said she will take anything for the house to unload it.  I don’t need any more questions.  He will never know about the problem, it’s between me and the owner.  

Jim to Doris, “I just don’t know.  There seems to be some problems.  Loose boards, the porch is missing some decking, I saw some scratches on the warped grayed boards. Some of the wood looks rotten underneath the porch.  Could there be something wrong, Doris?”

“I know what you’re concerned about, it’s not a wood infestation.  The house is just old. Old houses need a lot of care.  Yes, you will have to do some work on the house, you already know it.  But some things will be minor, like replacing a few rotten boards.  I’m sure there are not many.  Look at Jillian, she’s already at home. Come on Jim, let’s sign the papers.” “Let’s sign the papers, Honey.  No time to waste.  We got to get out of here.” All laugh.

Doris to herself,  I don’t know why I do this kind of work.  Most of the time it’s easy.  This time it’s not.  They’re young.  I know he doesn’t know much about fixing houses, but you got to push for the sale, otherwise they will never move forward.  They don’t know it, but I’m doing them a favor.  I own the house.  I’d like to give it to them.  I am so sorry I didn’t tell the whole truth about other houses I’ve sold, but this time I have told the truth.

“Ready to sign?  Half price, already on the paper.  Here, sign here and here.  The house is sold ‘as is,’  Now the seller needs to sign the paper.  Doris M. Malone.  That’s me. Now, let me get out of here.  Enjoy your life here.”

At least that Rosemary didn’t get this one.  We just hate each other, at times.  That happens in this business.  Cut throat, at times.   But good times like this one.

En route to Miami, Florida

“I think it’s great that we can get away for awhile just to bask in the Florida sun.  Looking forward to seeing ‘The Coconuts’ again.  It’s been a long time,” said Jeb as he adjusted his shades and ball cap while driving their nineteen-fifty-seven, red Dodge finned convertible.  “I know, dear, a long time ago.  It will be great to see them again, and the coconuts, too.  I mean the Miami coconuts,” said Millie as she sipped her cream soda through her red striped straw.  “Let’s see, Miami, two-hundred forty eight miles.  We’re almost there,” said Jeb.  Both laughed.  And the red Dodge finned convertible moved on down the road.

“Welcome aboard flight 2020 en route to Miami, non-stop.  My name is Ethel.  We will be lifting off momentarily, but first let me point out some things you need to know.  There is one restroom located in the back of the plane.  Must wait your turn. Your baggage must be secured to the twenty-four wall hangers.  Twelve on each side.  There are twenty-four passengers.  Twelve seated on each side, please.  We need to make sure that all the cargo is evenly loaded.  We don’t need this plane to tip off balance.”

Ethel went on to say,  “An important safety item. Parachutes are to be worn at all times. Pass these out, please.  If we have to bail out for emergency reasons, you must jump and pull your cord as soon as you fall out of the plane.  If you can’t or hesitate,  step out of the way so those eager to leave may go first.  No baggage may go with you.  This is a six hour flight to Miami.  Every hour, two passengers may walk through the plane to the restroom. Must wait your turn.  Snacks will be passed out every two hours.  One soda and one marshmallow pie.   Let me remind you that no children or pets are allowed on this flight.    A senior flight only.  A one way trip. Now relax and enjoy your flight.”

“Miss Stewardess, I have a question.  Do we get water on this flight?   I get awfully thirsty and need to keep myself hydrated,” said elderly Zell.  “Sir, we all need water.  You were supposed to bring your own.  Each passenger does get a canteen of water, but you must drink it sparingly.  There is no more and this is a six hour flight, remember?  Any other complaints, I mean concerns?”

“I’m prone to having panic attacks.  I’ve never flown before.  What can you do to help me, kind lady?” “I can’t do nothin’, lady.  I’m not a licensed medical professional.  Are you too afraid to fly?  Then, I suggest you leave the plane now and consider other modes of transportation.”  “I’m going to complain about how you treated me.”  “Please do, kind lady.  I get at least one complaint per flight.  What did you expect for a discounted flight at nineteen dollars and ninety nine cents?  Thank you for choosing Budget Cargo,” said flight attendant, Ethel, wearing her military fatigues, parachute, oxygen supply tank, aqua blue cat-eyed sunglasses and her coral pink colored ball cap with “Miami Coconuts” embroidered  in yellow across it’s front and two green palms with coconuts balanced on each side.

“Hey, Ethel, who do you work for?  You don’t look like a stewardess to me,” said the Mad Hatter.  “I don’t look like a clown either.  Just go back through the looking glass.  I get a joker on here every once in awhile.  Actually, I work for ‘Miami Coconuts.’  I’m your tour guide once we hit the ground.  I mean, safely land in Miami. You will be treated well.  You think I like this job?  I do it for nothing, but it’s how I pick up business.  Soda and a marshmallow pie, anyone?  Oh yes, there are three choices, chocolate, vanilla, and coconut.  You will notice a sticker on the bottom of the coconut pie.  It’s a coupon for a free box of salt water taffy with a purchase of twenty-five dollars or more at ‘Miami Coconuts’ souvenir shop.  One coupon per customer only.”

“It’s been forty-five years since we’ve last seen ‘The Coconuts.’  They just live in a tropical oasis.  And the beautiful palms that line the road to their place, just magnificent.  I can just see them now, as they were then.  I sent a note to them a month ago about our anticipated trip to Miami and how much we’d love to see them again.  Coco penned me back with a gracious welcome.   She said not to worry about lodging, as we can stay with them.                I wonder what they have been doing since we saw them last?  They’ll ask us the same question, Jeb.  What can we tell them?”   “Just tell them the truth.  We are retired and spend special times together walking ‘Yogi’ around the block and entering him in dog competition.  You know, once, someone, a neighbor said that ‘Yogi’ was quite a ‘show dog.’  He always raises his hind leg higher than the rest at the corner hydrant,” Jeb laughed.

“We have to tell them we’ve done more than that.  Oh yes, remember our wonderful cruise to The Bahamas.  It’s just paradise there.  See, I have my straw bag to prove it.  It’s coral pink with Nassau woven on it’s side in aqua blue.  But, I must remove the tags that read ‘Miami Coconuts’ and ‘Producto de Honduras.’  We need to be authentic.  Here’s your visor from our trip to Hawaii years ago.  I loved Maui and snorkeling in it’s crystal clear water.  ‘Made in Japan’ tag needs to be removed.  Also the tag ‘Distributed by Miami Coconuts.’  See, we are somebodies and have been somewhere.  Would you like a marshmallow pie, Jeb?  We only have coconut.”  Both laughed.  One hundred-fifty miles to Miami.

“How is everyone doing?  We’re one hour from Miami International Cargo Terminal.  If you need lavatory breaks, do them now.  You must wait your turn, but be considerate.  Time is of the essence.  Okay, everyone, fasten your belts and harnesses.  We are fifteen minutes from touch down at Miami.”  Captain to passengers, “We have been cleared to land. Ready, set and down we go.”  “Welcome to Florida and welcome to Miami!” exclaimed Ethel, the part-time flight attendant and tour guide.  “Everyone, make sure you take all your bags with you, this plane will be loaded with another cargo of passengers right after you exit.”

Ethel to passengers, “Follow me.  There are two trams waiting to take us to the main terminal baggage claim.  Your baggage will come to you there.  After all baggage is claimed and checked, we will proceed to the buses waiting for us to take us to town to our lodging location.  Compliments of ‘Miami Coconuts.’  Tomorrow morning our sightseeing will begin.  Enjoy your evenings.  Thanks to  all of you for your cooperation.”

“Look for our ‘Miami Coconuts’ tour van.  It will comfortably seat all of you,” said Ethel with a smile while counting cash in her hand from tips received. “Let’s see, there’s four quarters, one-dollar bill, two dimes and this folded piece of paper. Let me open and read.” “You’re hot, baby.  Lookin’ for a hot Miami night. Can you show me the town? Here’s an extra tip of twenty.  Kiss, kiss, mi amor,” signed Gustavo, aka Zell.  Ethel thinking to herself…Well, extra is extra.  More bucks and he may get more for the money.  I don’t come cheap.  I am a lady.

“Jeb, I’m  getting excited.  Miami is two miles away.  Next exit.  I don’t remember the exact directions to Loco and Coco’s.  We’re off the expressway.  Turn left here.  There’s a lighted business straight ahead on the right,”  said Millie as she searches for her phone in her straw Bahamas’ bag.  “Okay, Millie.  Here we are at ‘Miami Coconuts.’  Sound familiar? Open twenty-four hours.  Souvenirs and gifts to remember your place in the sun.  We have coconuts here.  Let’s go inside so you can make your call,” said Jeb in a tired tone of voice.

“Welcome to ‘Miami Coconuts.’ said the store cashier.  We have it all here to remember your trip to paradise.  Salt water taffy, first aisle on your left.  Fresh coconuts in our produce bins located on the back aisle.”  “Hello, Coco.  This is Millie.  We are here.  Such a long trip, but we made it.  Looking forward to seeing you.  Can you meet us at a place called ‘Miami Coconuts?'”  “Absolutely, Millie.  It’s so good to hear your voice.  I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.  I know the location well.  Be there soon.”  “Coco, how will we recognize each other?  It’s been forty-five years,” said nervously by Millie.  “Don’t worry, baby.  I’ll be wearing my coconut printed moo-moo and sandals and I know you will remember my alluring Latin face.  I know you still look the same.  If you’re carrying that straw bag from The Bahamas, I will remember you. Bet it still has the labels ‘Miami Coconuts’ and made in Honduras,” said laughingly by Coco.

“Jeb, let’s go to the back and see their fresh coconuts.  There’s the bins.  I can see them from here.  Why don’t we go ahead and get two of them?  One for us and one for Coco and Loco as a gift for their hospitality.  Wait, the label on crate reads ‘Producto de Panama.’         I thought these were coconuts in Miami.”  “Well, they are, right in your hands, coconuts in Miami grown in Panama.  Can’t get any more Miami than that,”  Jeb smiles with a grin.  “It’s all about marketing.  This is nothin’ but a tourist trap.  I know Coco would never have anything to do with this sham.  She is authentic.  Loco doesn’t care.   Toto, their dog, just likes hot dogs and his walks.  He’s a ‘show dog,’ too.”

“Millie, a car just pulled up.  The door is opening.  There is a short woman in a coconut moo moo.  Must be Coco.  And that must be Loco.  He looks like he did forty-five years ago. Maybe a game of dominoes again.  Still has that Latin ‘stache and that aromatic Cuban cigar.”  “Coco, so glad to see you,” said Millie as she gives Coco a big hug and a kiss. “I knew it was you,  No one like you,” said Coco.  “How did you know it was me?” said Millie.  “Your Nassau straw bag gave you away.”  Loco to Jeb, “That nineteen-fifty-seven, red Dodge finned convertible hasn’t changed a bit.  But you, Jeb, I wouldn’t recognize you, bud.”  “I remember you, Loco.  I see you still smoke those cheap Cuban cigars.  You still smell the same.”  “We both have good taste,” said laughingly by both.

Millie to Coco, “Do you still live on Coconut Bend?”  “No, we sold the place.  You know how developers are, they flash some cash and it was a lot, so we took it and looked for something else to do.  A luxury hotel is there now.  Well, exactly, what are you doing now, Millie?”  “Well, we walk our dog around the block and pretend we travel a lot.  You know, we’ve been to Hawaii, The Bahamas, and now Miami.”  “What more could you ask for, Millie?”  “Well, we came here for Miami coconuts, but none are here,  only those in the bins from Panama.” “Well, you’re right, they are not Miami coconuts, but they are coconuts in Miami.  By the way, about ‘Miami Coconuts,’ it’s our business.  We have several locations. We give the tourists what they want.  If they want ‘Miami Coconuts,’ we give them ‘Miami Coconuts.’  How about a bikini made in Mexico?  A halter made in the USA, I mean California, or a straw bag from The Bahamas with ‘Miami Coconuts’ made in Honduras with Miami Coconuts tagged on it’s side?  Millie, let’s get you some coconuts now, the tour buses will start arriving early tomorrow morning.  Also, here’s some boxes of assorted salt water taffy.  All on me, dear friend.”

Miami Coconuts, a souvenir shop, merchandise from elsewhere, and coconuts, all from Miami, so they say.  Lasting memories with friends count most of all, but don’t forget the salt water taffy made authentically in Miami.  Family and friends will appreciate your thoughtfulness and it will serve as a reminder to them that you are somebodies, that do go somewhere, and travel in style in a nineteen-fifty-seven, red Dodge finned convertible. Would you like a piece of taffy?

Language Arts 101–The Art of Signature.

“Okay students, welcome to penmanship class.  My name is Mrs. Holgaralduski.”

“What kind of name is that?” said Marvin Lee.  “Sounds like ‘hoagie sandwich’ to me,”    said Molly.  “Mrs. Hoagie, Hoagie, Hoagie,” said Joey in a smart aleck mockery of Mrs. Holgaralduski.  All of the class laugh with him, except Ginnie Mae.

“Now, I don’t need any of you making fun of my name.  It’s aristocratic.  I come from a very distinguished family.  It’s my husband’s name and I won’t stand for this ridicule.   Get it?  Simple.”

Ginnie Mae said “Mrs. Holgaralduski, don’t pay any attention to these monkeys.  They have no manners and should be caged.  I like your name, and welcome to our academy.”

“Thank you, Ginnie Mae.  I can tell, already, you come from a home where education is valued.  A special welcome to you.”

“Your name, ma’am, how do you pronounce it?  I really want to know,” said Patsy Ann.

“Okay, class, I’ll pronounce it and write it on the board.  Now, pay attention, please.         Hol-ga-ral-dus-ki.  Holgaralduski.  It’s Mrs. Holgaralduski.  Say it with me.”  Teacher and students say it together.  Hol-ga-ral-dus-ki.  “Wonderful, class.  A good try for the  first time.”

Two of the students, Marvin Lee and Joey, didn’t even try to pronounce it with the rest of the class.  “Hogs are dusty,” said Marvin Lee.  Joey said “It still sounds confusing to me. Lets see,  ‘Mrs. Horseradish n’ tea.’  Is that better, ma’am?”  Mrs. Holgaralduski  responds,  “No , it’s not.  I can see you two are trouble.  I want you, boys, up here in front of me.  No more wisecracks.  Get it?  Simple.”

Mrs. Holgaralduski says to class, “I want all of you to know, if any student gets out of hand in this class, I have a surveillance camera, in here, recording it all.  You will regret it.  Each DVD, in high definition,  goes to the principal every day. Get it?  Simple.”

Tommy Lee to Mrs. Holgaralduski, “Do we have to take this class?  I don’t want to be here.”  “Me, neither,” said Joey.  Sally thinking to herself… I can tell this is gonna be bor-ing.  It already is.  There must be a way I can get exempt from this class.
Molly, chewing her bubble gum and popping bubbles, said, “We don’t need cursive.          It’s stone age.  We prefer to text.”

“This class is mandatory.  You children must learn cursive, at least to sign your signatures.  Students, you should have learned cursive in second grade.  All of you are preteens, now.  You must learn it.  That’s why you are here.  Get it?  Simple.”

“Mrs. Holgaralski, can I show you something?”  “Of course, Ben.  You’re in seat number seven.”  “See, this is a cell phone.  We text on here.”  “I have a cell phone, but have never  texted.  I didn’t know my phone had that capability.”  Ben continues with his instructions on how to text a message.  “Just press messaging.  Key in to whom.  Then type your message on the screen.  For example, ‘I see you are late for class.’  We abbreviate, shorten the message with letters and symbols.  Here’s your message in text.  ‘I c  u r late 4 class.’   Press send and it is transmitted to your contact.  Get it?  Simple.”

Mrs. Holgaralduski thinking to herself…These kids have learned a new way to communicate.  Maybe they don’t need cursive at all.  I will take a different approach with them.

“Class, you have taught me something.  There are many new ways of communicating these days.  New technology is great, but a text is not a signature.  You must at least learn the   letters in your name and learn to write them in cursive.  You will be signing your names for the rest of your lives.  Any important document will need to be signed by you.  A signature is necessary.”  “We have electronic signatures now, don’t need hand written signatures,” said Molly.  “What is an electronic signature, Molly?”

“Sometimes it’s called an e-signature.  It’s a secret code, that only you know, that’s encrypted, hidden, sent along with your documents.  The receiver enters a code to authenticate that it’s your signature connected to the documents you sent.  Then it opens the document.  That’s it.  Get it?  Simple.”

“Class, I have a homework assignment for you.  It’s very simple and it will be your only assignment for the entire semester.  I want each of you to bring a letter, a note, anything with a signature on it.  I prefer that it be someone you know.  Your mom or dad, or someone else you know that is special to you.  Bring two, so that we can compare them.  See you all next week.”

“Good morning, class.  Greet me, please.  All attempt to say it correctly.  “Good morning, Mrs. Holga.”  “That’s great.  Only part of it, but next week, I want you to add more.  Next week, we will add ral to Holga to make it Holgaral.  That’s Hol-ga-ral.  Practice, please.”

“Now, to cursive.  What is cursive?  Does anyone know?”  No answers, except Ginnie Mae. “Mrs. Holgaralduski, it’s circular letters.  Most of the curvature letters have a curve to them.”  “Correct, Ginnie Mae.  You are advanced in your language skills.  The rest of the class can learn from you.  Thank you, Ginnie Mae.”

“Here are a couple of examples of cursive signatures.  They are famous names in American history.  This one is John Hancock.  A signer of the Declaration of Independence.  He wrote his signature large enough so that the British crown would see that he, too, was declaring his independence from England.  Notice how well his signature is written.  It’s in cursive, but it has style.  It is his mark of distinction.”

“The next signature is a US president.  Does anyone recognize it?  It’s Abraham Lincoln.  Notice that his name is written with less flair than John Hancock.  Both men were important, but Mr. Lincoln’s signature, I feel, denotes that he was a humble and an unpretentious man.  Both are famous signatures that have been seen by many for years.”

“Now, your signatures.  Place your documents on top of your desks.  I will come around to look at them.  Yes, indeed, these signatures are unique and have style.  We will look at some of them.  Who wants to go first?”  “Me, first!” said Marie.  “Go ahead, Marie, show us what you have.”  “These three signatures are my dad’s.  The first one is normal, the way he first learned cursive.  You can read the letters.  The last two are scribble scratch.  He’s a doctor.  This is the way he always signs his name today, always scribbled.”  “You know, class, there are many ways to sign your name.  As you learn to write your signature in cursive, you may develop your own style of writing your name later.  Although Marie’s dad’s signature, she calls scribble scratch, doesn’t show any cursive letters, it’s how he signs his name.  It’s his mark of distinction.  It’s the style of his signature.”

“Who’s next?”  “I have one Mrs. Holga.  But it’s in German, and it’s my grandfather’s.”  “Tell us his name, Umberto.”  “It’s Franz Zeifenheimmer.”  “Language doesn’t matter.  Show us what you have with you.”  “It’s only two letters, an “f” and a “z.”  Mrs. Holgaralduski points  out, “Two letters are fine.  You have a lower case f and a lower case z.  Both have loops.  A very fine signature.  I see the other letter you have, the signature is the same.  This is his signature.  It has style to it.  It’s his mark of distinction. ”

“One last one.  Okay, Ginnie Mae, I see you are eager to share.  ‘I have two.  My dad’s signature.  Wealther Worth.  He signs it with two coiled w’s.  See, it’s the same here.  He makes lots of money.  I want my signature to be just like his.'”  Mrs. Holgaralduski said to Ginnie Mae.  “Your signature will not be his, but yours.  It will be your mark of distinction.”

“Here’s my signature.  Voncile Holgaralduski.  I sign it with a symbol, for the name is so long.  See, it’s a V that looks like a heart.  It is my unique signature.  It has style and it is my mark of distinction.”

Last week of class.  “Okay class, greet me with my full name.”  Students confidently reply,  “Good morning, Mrs. Holgaral..duski.”  You all did it.  Now each one of you show the class your cursive signature.  Molly proudly shows her signature.  “Molly Brown.”  “Very good, Molly.”  “Thank you , Mrs. Holgaralduski.”

“Ben, please share your signature with the class.” “My full name is Benjamin Beemer.     My signature has been shortened.  I only use the two capital B’s.  Capital B arch B.”  “I like the arch between the B’s.  It’s like a bridge connecting the two.  I like it Ben.  It’s short and brief and is creative.  It’s your mark of distinction.”

“Okay, Willie, you’re up next.”  “I’m ashamed of it.  I wrote it like my gramp.  He couldn’t read or write.  This is it.  Just a ‘w.'”  “But, Willie, it has style and the tail of the w crosses back across the w.  I think there are two letters.  A “w” and a “t.”  What’s your gramp’s last name?”  “Tanner, ma’am.  Willie Tanner.” “That’s his signature.  A great signature and his mark of distinction.”

“Class, we have all learned that our signatures have style and are our marks of distinction.  It doesn’t matter how you sign it.  It is your style of writing it.  You all have done well and have passed this class.  Pick up your certificates as you leave, but you must sign your name, as best you can, in cursive to get it.”

Signatures are your marks of distinction.  They all have a style to them.  A signature is an  expression of you on paper.  It does reveal something about you. So be proud of it.

“Scrambled eggs and white toast.  That’s how I like my order.  No other way.”              “Scrambled eggs and wheat toast.  That’s how I like my order.  No other way.”                           “Scrambled eggs with French toast sprinkled with powdered sugar. That’s how                           I like my order. No other way.”                                                                                                                        “Scrambled eggs an a bagel with cheese.  That’s how I like my order.  No other way.”

“What did you say?”  “Scrambled eggs and bagel with cheese.”  “Never heard of it.  You can check with Herman’s Doughnuts next door.  He sells everything.  I believe he does have that bagel doughnut.  He just placed out all his fresh doughnuts and pastries.  Go quickly while they are fresh.  I’m sure the two bagel doughnuts are still there waiting for you.  He has cream cheese, too.  Have a good day, sir.”

“Ma chérie, comment vas-tu?  Sweetheart, how are you today?    I have a special request.  I’ll have two scrambled eggs on a French toast sandwich.  Then a swirl of  ice cream custard on top drizzled with caramel.”  “How did you come up with that one?  It’s not on our menu, but I do like the sound of it.  Let me see what I can do.” “Hey, Harvey,  I have a special request.  Scrambled eggs on French toast topped with ice cream.  Can you do?”  “Let me see, Lucille.  Hold on.”

While Harvey is searching for a bag of frozen French toast and ice cream,  Cile asked  customer, “How fancy do you want your eggs?  We only have scrambled, but we can fancy them up for you.” “Two fluffy scrambled eggs with pecans on top.  Place the eggs on the top of a slice of French toast then place another slice of French toast on top.  That makes the sandwich.  Top it off with a swirl of ice cream custard  drizzled with caramel.” “You said you wanted ice cream, what flavor?”  A swirl of vanilla custard drizzled with caramel.” “We can do that, I think Harvey can locate the syrup somewhere.  Would you like your caramel heated?” “Oui, s’il vous plaît.” ”  What did you say?  It better be nice.  Of course, it’s served on a plate.  And no, I do not accept invitations, unless I’m tipped well.”

“Lady, may I call you Cile?  It means ‘Yes, please.'” “Yes, you can call me, Cile.  And what is your name?”  “It’s Pierre. I’m from the ‘South of France.'”  “I’m from the ‘South of Alabama’ and proud of it.”  “I can tell you are a ‘Southern Belle,’  I greatly admire you.”  “Enough flirtin’, your order is coming up. I think Harvey was able to create a new type of toast, French toast with scrambled eggs.  We have no waffles, but we do have your vanilla ice cream just what a Frenchman would like. By the way, Pierre, would you like a fresh cup of our finest ground coffee?  It’s mountain grown in Alabama.  Way up yonder in the hills.”  “Sounds great, Cile.  Ma chérie, café au lait.”  “There you go again with that fancy French talk.  How’d you like your coffee?”  “Coffee with milk.  Merci, ma chérie.  Thank you, dear.”

“Cile, you’ve spent too much time with that Frenchman.  All he’s  lookin’ for is love.  We’re here for our scrambled eggs.  I’ll have mine with white toast.  That’s how I like it.”  “Barney, I haven’t forgotten you.  He’s a guest and must be treated well. He could bring the place up to a fancy diner, particularly if I add his special order to our menu.  You’re my regulars and  I value your business, I mean your friendships.”  “Ready for my order, Cile.  Got to drive my diesel rig over the road for four days.  I need a good hearty breakfast.  Double my order of scrambled eggs and white toast and I need a fresh thermos of ‘hot to trot’ coffee.  Can you do?”  “For you, Ed, I would do anything.”  “Really, you wouldn’t want to go with me across the road, would you?  You would be great company and I have an extra bunk for you.  It’s just how the ladies like it.  Think about it before that Frenchman takes you away.  I don’t know French talk but I do know to take good care of a lady.  I have manners.”

“Lucille, I’m running late, I would appreciate if you’d put an express on my scrambled eggs and cinnamon toast.  Add a coffee, too.  Hot to trot.  I’m having a special sale today at ‘Hot Wheels.’  All model cars, 1950’s era, are half-priced today only.  At noon today, there will be a  special one hour class on how to assemble them.  At no extra charge.  We have quite a few collectors of these vintage model cars.  Tell Harvey.  Maybe young Billy might want to come along.  Something for everyone.”  “Here, Buster, ready to go.  The coffee is on the house and now you’re ‘hot to trot.'”

“Mademoiselle, mon Toast Sandwich français, s’il vous plaît.  Miss, my French Toast Sandwich, please.  I’ve been waiting a long time.” ” I know, my dear, Pierre.  I’ll get it right now.  I will make sure it’s hot and the vanilla ice cream custard is cold and then I’ll drizzle it with room temperature caramel to keep it from melting too fast. Nothing but the best for you, ‘my cherry more.’  Here it is, enjoy my love.”

“Hey, miss flirtin’ waitress, can you bring me mah order?  Lucille, this is not like you.  Scatterbrained and you put your best men folks last.  Just because of that Frenchman.     By the way,  do you know anything about him?  I think there is something very peculiar about him.  He’s dressed in combat fatigues and wearing a military beret.  Why would a military spy be so obvious?” said Edgar.  “That’s not military dress, it’s the new French casual wear for men.  It’s designer.  Plus, he is a gentleman and has manners.  Most spies are not as friendly and as open.  Just a nice and friendly guy.  A little fresh and forward, but I like it.  I’ve never had a man speak so sweet to me,” said Lucille as she wrapped her arms around herself gazing up with sparkles in her eyes.  ” You know what, Cile, I think you are mesmerized by him.  He’s got complete control of you now.  You belong to him now.”

Cile thinking to herself…Yes, I do belong to him now.  The way he talks to me.  The way his penetrating dark eyes see into my feminine mystique.  My heart is just pounding for him. Pierre, my darling, my heart awaits you to take me into your arms. Ravish me and we will build a life of espionage together.  Two spies in love. 

“Lucille, Cile!  You left us for a moment.  Are you all right?”  “I’m back, Edgar.  Just lost in a dream.”  “How about my scrambled eggs and wheat toast to go? I want them fresh please, and a cup of coffee ‘hot to trot.'”  “Here ya go, Edgar.  All there and it’s on me.  Glad to do it for you.  Enjoy your Spyday, I mean, Friday.”

In a drift, glossy eyed Cile returns to check on Pierre.  “My Pierre, how was your French Toast Sandwich?  Was it French enough?  Not freshly made, but French toast.  It  does look good.  May I have a taste?  Mmm, very good.  I must put this on our menu.  Pierre, it’s been great to meet you.  Enjoy the rest of your day.”  “Mon cherie, I want you as a friend.  I have no friends here.  I’m on special assignment.  No one must know, but I will tell you.  I’m a…”  “Please don’t tell me, Pierre, I think I already know.  It must me a tough job to do and an awfully lonely life.  You do need a friend.  I will be your friend, if that’s okay with you.”   “Of course, my dear.  I have a request of you.  May I have your hand? Will you go away with me? We can travel the world together.  That’s what I do.  I do go into some very uncomfortable situations, but I know how to get out.  That’s what spies do best.  They spy, then they leave.  Are you ready for a life of espionage?”

“Let me think for a moment, Pierre. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.  Have I found love?  He really knows how to charm a lady.  He is so considerate.  The men around here have no idea about being nice to a woman, plus they do not have the intelligence of Pierre.  Should I go?  Is this a foolish thought?  I think I must go, maybe not.  What do I have to hold me here?  Love is what I need.  We can love each other together and forever.  I must go!

“Pierre, I have made my decision.  It was a hard one to make, but I did.  I can’t.  I can’t stay here.  I must go with you.  I would never have thought that love would walk into my life. But you did and I am very happy.  Just think, this all started with scrambled eggs and white toast.   For us, it will be French Toast and Scrambled Eggs forevermore.”   Both laugh and embrace.

Je t’aime pour un moment. Je t’aime pour un jour. Je t’aime pour la vie.                                        I love you for a moment.  I love you for a day.  I love you for life.

Store…Your…Stuff…Here!…Store…Your…Stuff…Here!

Climate Controlled…                                                                                                                                   Twenty Four Hour Security…                                                                                                                             Camera Surveillance…                                                                                                                                       You Lock And Keep The Key…                                                                                                                           Variety Of Spaces Available…                                                                                                                         Horders Not Welcome…                                                                                                                              Y2Kers Keep On Driving…                                                                                                                               Store Your Stuff Here!

“Elmer, we have too much stuff here. Too many boxes that we never emptied when we moved in here nearly five years ago. The living room is like a maze. I can’t even find my vintage yellow daisy, padded, vinyl lounge chair and my Roy Rogers TV dinner tray that I’ve had since nineteen sixty two. I guess I’ll never find them and will continue to sit in the lawn chair with my microwave meal placed on a card table. This is just not living. You said a move to Florida would be leisure living in the sun, but it’s not and why? We’ve got to do something to have a life.  We never see the neighbors and they never see us.  You talked this place up like it was paradise found, but I haven’t found it yet!     Some of this stuff must go.  I’m nearly insane from it all.  I like order, but a little space would be nice.  I guess we’re lucky to be in a gated, isolated, fifty-five plus community.   But maybe there is a sunny side of Florida yet to be found.  Well, we do live in ‘Coastal Palms.’  That’s a start.  Even if its just a state of mind,” said Mabel.

“Nothing wrong with our stuff. Yeah, it’s a maze to get around it, but as long as I can get to my easy chair in front of my full screen sports channel, I’m fine with it. And besides, what if you need something like that old fashioned green Hamilton Beach blender, you can put your hands right on it. Look in that box, it’s marked small kitchen appliances. It could be in there. Remember those thick malts you used to make? I’d love to have one now. Wouldn’t you?” said Elmer as he relaxed in his easy chair with his socked feet resting comfortably on the two tone nineteen sixty two black and white circular ottoman. You need to relax, doll. We’ll figure something out. You know that ‘Store Your Stuff Here’ storage place is down the road. Let’s check it out tomorrow.  Here. Have one of these. They’re called ‘The Love of Chocolate.’ I know you love chocolate. Just relax for the rest of the day.  How about one of those thick chocolate malts for old times’ sake?” “Just maybe, we’ll see.  Here’s your iced lemonade and your patty melt, just as you like it. Got to go to the garage and check on things.  We just need to be ready.”

Elmer thinking to himself…The worst of all , Mabel is a hoarder. She saves everything. I’m really tired of our garage filled with her leftover Y2K supplies. I guess she is saving them for Y3K. The one hundred gallons of water are no good now. It’s been fourteen years since then and nothing has happened. No catastrophe. No ‘Chicken Little.’ Every weekend she has a yard sign that reads  ‘Be prepared, survivor supplies here.’  I can’t believe I moved her surplus of survival supplies down here.  It almost took another truck to load it all. It’s been five years and nothing has changed.  Actually I’m really tired of her. Tired of living like this.  If I say anything to her, she will call me a hypocrite for not  helping her unload these boxes full of stuff and trash bags filled with clothes and laundry since we moved in here.  Maybe she’s tired of me, but I don’t think so.  What would she do without me?

Mabel thinking to herself…All he does is sit in his easy chair and watch the world of sports.   He doesn’t even think about my needs.  What happened to our love affair so many years ago?  Mom had the same problem with Dad.  He ignored her, too.  He would go to work , mow the lawn, then back to his easy chair.  I guess I married someone just like my Dad. But something happened that got Mom really worried.  Dad’s behavior changed, I mean his routine.  Always home for dinner by six, but one day he didn’t show up.  I never knew what happened.  Then the next day he came home on time.  He kissed and even hugged Mom, then I thought everything was all right, but  something was different about Dad.  But I can’t do anything about the past.  It’s time to organize.  Where should I begin?  Yes, the garage. I must do an inventory of our survival supplies.  I feel like something is about to happen. We’ve got to be ready.  That’s what Mom said.  I think she thought he was involved, you know, but I really don’t think so.  It was all in her mind.  Then she started organizing everything.  She feared we were about to lose everything, but it never happened and she never lost Dad. “The games over, good night Mabel.”  “Elmer, wait, I got an idea. We can create our own tropical oasis right here. I’ll even make us each a coconut shake with the Hamilton Beach.  As you said, for old times’ sake.  Will you help me?”  “For a shake, you bet I will. What you need?” “Get out the Hamilton Beach.  It’s in the box marked small kitchen appliances.”        “I found it.  A treasure to behold.  I remember when.”  “You mean me?”  “No, the Hamilton Beach” with a grin.  “Maybe you, later.  If the shake is right, maybe rock’n’roll tonight.” “I like what I hear.

Hurry, Elmer.  We have love, I mean shakes, to make.   The ice cream’s in the fridge and get the aluminum canister.   Then blend.  I’m feeling hot,  I need to cool myself off with a quick sponge.  I’ll be right back.” “Let’s see, ice cream from the fridge.  Coconut Creme, my favorite.  One scoop, another scoop, and another.  A touch of milk and here we go.  Blend, blend, blend.  Feeling so good, I wonder why? I feel like a new man.  I have a song in my heart, ‘I wonder why I love you like I do.  Is it because I think you love me too?  Doo-wop, doo-wop, love you like I do.’  What’s this? ‘Man-Alive,’ enhancer.  Just add to any cool drink.  Hmm?” “Elmer, you’re like your young self again.  I wonder why?  The chocolates are so creamy and luscious.  What’s with ‘A Love-Potion Product?”  “So, you like them.  How about one more luscious taste, from me? Let’s go make some shakes. So, I’m a Man-Alive again?” “That’s my plan. I think it’s working.”  “I’m your passion of pleasure.” “That’s my plan.” “Let’s go make some shakes.”  “Let’s go make some shakes!”

“What a night.  Was it a dream?” said Elmer.  “It wasn’t a dream, it was a really good shake,” said Mabel with a gleaming smile.  “Ready to store your stuff?”  “Not now, I got all the stuff I need right here with you.”  “And you’re the right stuff for me.”

Heaven Forbid School of Excellence                                                                                                                 In The Pines, Georgia

After Lunch, Fifth Period English-Creative Writing.

“Mrs.  Whippoorwill, this is Janice Noteworthy from Heaven Forbid School.  How are you, dear heart?  I have a favor to ask of you.  I need a fill-in teacher for a three month assignment to finish out the school year.  I know you are retired, but I could really use your help.”

“Well Janice, dear heart, I called it quits last year after thirty years of torment.  I was dedicated to my profession, but my school days are over.  I’m sorry, but I can’t help you out.  Besides, I’m about  to take a trip of a lifetime to Africa.  Never been there.  I watch the Travel Channel and you should see the zebras running in the wild across Africa. Across the grassy savanna plains.  It’s their home, where they belong and not in captivity like a zebra zoo.  You know, many think zebras are white horses painted with black stripes.  That is nothing but nonsense.  They are not horses.  They are zebras.  A completely different herd.  I’m taking a safari to see them up close.  I’ve saved a long time for this trip. You know teachers never get a vacation.  This may be the only one I ever get for the rest of my days.     I must go.”

“Now, exactly, when does your tour leave?  Next week or three months from now?  Helene, dear heart, I could really use your help. What can you do for me?” said Janice with hopeful expectation and a genuine smile. “Janice, dear heart,  I have rheumatism now.  You know an old lady can’t stand up much anymore.”  Janice thinking to herself…There must be a way to accommodate her.  She is a star teacher.  With all the high tech electronics available today, she really doesn’t have to stand at all.  She could teach the old fashioned way, seated behind her desk.  And the students could stay in their place. She could teach from her tablet and the students could learn from their tablets. I got an idea.  I will appeal to her ego.

“You know, Helene, dear heart, you were one of the best.  A lot of students moved on to higher education because of you. Now there are some in very lucrative careers. Surgeons, lawyers, and even landscapers. All in professions of compassion and service. See what you did for them?  I could arrange free consultations for you with any of them. Need surgery for your osteoarthritis?  I can hook you up.   Any personal injuries such as falls at the senior center or a slip on the supermarket floor?  There’s money waiting for you.  And I know you always need your hedge trimmed and your lawn mowed.”

“You know, I could use a little help.  What do you need Janice, dear heart?” said Mrs. Whippoorwill with a bit of a smile while bracing herself on her cane.  “Maybe I still do have a little punch to teach.”

“Helene, dear heart, you were the very best math teacher in the district.  All of your students excelled.”  “Yes, I did teach them their numbers.  At least they can count today. The new ones coming up don’t need to count.  Just let the electronics do it for them.  I think there are still some numbers to teach.  What math class do you need help with, dear heart?”  “I need you to teach something new.  English, well it’s creative writing.  If you can teach math, you can teach anything.  This will be a piece of cake. Just tell them to write, but inspire them.  They really need some motivation,”  said Janice hoping for a deal.

“Heaven forbid, Janice.  I can’t teach English, much less writing.  I’m a numbers person.” “Mrs. Whippoorwill sing me a song, please.  Do whatever you need to do.  It’s your classroom and they will abide by  your rules.  You’ll see.”

“Okay, Janice, I will agree to the three months, but if they become too difficult,  I will give you my notice in a heartbeat.  When do I start?”  “Your class will start on Monday. Its right after lunch, fifth period.  Good  kids.  Just need a little motivation.  See you then?” “You did say this is a behind the desk job?  Great to hear,  see you then.”

After lunch, Monday afternoon.  Fifth period English-Creative Writing.

“Okay class, let’s get it together.  It’s time to start creative writing.  By the way I’m your new teacher, Mrs. Whippoorwill.  Let me take roll.  Butch?  ‘Here.’   Baby Face? ‘Here, but don’t want to be here’  Pinky Dee?  ‘I’m here, ya know. ‘ Jolene? ‘Mama said to come. Ahm here.”  Johnny Lee?  ‘I’m here, ma’am.’  Well someone with manners.  I bet you know your numbers.  Patsy Ann?  ‘I don’t feel well.  The fried chicken was good tasting, may I go see the nurse?’  Well, are you here?  ‘Yes, teacher.  I am here.’  You may go see the nurse, but you don’t want to miss out on the creativity in class today.  Hurry back. And Tank?  Tank, are you here?  ‘Whip-whip-whip-poor-will, I’m here.’  Very good, now on to our numbers, I mean creative writing.”

“Welcome to creative writing, young ladies and gentlemen.  This is supposed to be a fun class, so let’s make it that way.  What is creative writing, anyone know? Yes, Patsy Ann.” “I think it is writing whatever you want with no rules.”  “Very good.  You are onto the idea.  Anyone else know what it is to creatively write?”  “Its, well, ya know, easy writing. You don’t even need to know how to spell,” said Pinky Dee.  “Well, you do need to know how to spell, but we do leave something out.  Anyone know?”  “I know, ma’am. Don’t need to use any puntruation.”  “I think you mean punctuation, Johnny Lee. “Tank, what do you know about writing?”  “Nothin’.  Don’t care to write.”  Mrs. Whippoorwill thinking to herself…What a pity.  He really doesn’t know how to write.  I wonder if there are others.  It’s probably because they never learned their numbers.  But I can’t teach math in here.  We will start with basics, vocabulary and writing a sentence.  It’s got to be simple. I do not want to embarrass this young boy or anyone else.

“Let’s see.  Writing with no rules.  Easy writing.  Yes, punctuation is used.  What else is there about creative writing that’s different from standard English?” “I think you kinda write without complete words.  Instead of going, it’s goin’ ,” said Butch. “Yes Butch, incomplete words can be used, but I prefer complete words.  How about you, Jolene?” “Mama never taught us much about writin’, but I wanna learn it. I don’t know English very well.” “You will learn how to write well in here.  I think creative writing allows us to start writing without the rules and we apply them later.  You’ll see.”  “I’m looking for that baby face.  Baby Face, show your face.  There you are.  What is the main thing that is really different about creative writing?”  “I know because my Gramma writes in her own style.  She said it’s a free style of writing.  Just let the thoughts flow into your mind, then write them down on paper.” “You have just identified the main approach to creative writing.  It is the free flow of thoughts and ideas inside your head. Then you write them down.  Awesome, Baby Face.”

“Let’s give it a try.  We will do a sentence together.  Here’s a word to start-zebra.  We will write about zebras.  Just relax and imagine a herd of zebras running across a field. Anyone know what a zebra is?” “It’s a white horse with striped pajamas,” said Patsy Ann laughingly. “A zebra is not a horse, it’s a zebra.  A completely different herd,” said Johnny Lee.  “Where can zebras be found?  I see your hand, Pinky Dee. Go ahead.”  “In the Zebrarama.  The zebra ranch.”  “I know Mrs. Whip-whip-whip-poor-will. In Africa.  I’ve seen them on TV.  There are lots of them there.  All running free,” said Tank.  “Yes indeed, running free across Africa.  Okay, Baby Face, wrap it up for us.”  “Zebras live free and run across Africa.”

“What have we learned today?  A sentence.  What is it?”  All say “Zebras Across Africa.”

At the clubhouse, Champions Golf at Bluff Creek.

“Hey Howie, buddy, how are ya?”

“Good, Jamie.  And you, buddy?”

“I’m good, Howie.   A nice day to play the course.”

“I already trekked the green. I goofed today.”

“Goofed today?” said Jamie a bit puzzled.

“Yeah, I played golf,” said Howie.

Jamie replied, “Oh, you did goof today!  Well, did you tee off?”

Howie to Jamie, “Of course, I made it that far.  How was your game today?”

Jamie replied, “Always good.  I made par.  I aced the hole four times.  How about you, Howie?  Parred under one hundred yet?  Last time, I remember your par was about one- twenty.  Any better?  Probably not. Try to get it under a hundred, if you ever can, Howie.  Really, how is your game?”

“Well, I did a bogey on hole two.” “Not bad,” said Jamie. “What about the rest of them?”

Howie thought to himself,  I’ll exaggerate about my game, just like Jamie and the rest of them off the green.  A little bluff can’t hurt.  They all do it.  One thing I did do today, I got out of the sand trap in two strokes.  Jamie doesn’t know it.  Actually it took ten times, but he doesn’t need to know.

“Jamie, did you tear up any turf today?  Leave any work for the maintenance crew?” “I never dig the earth, ever!” replied Jamie, a bit annoyed. “Me neither,” said Howie. “Oh really?  How come, Howie, I seem divots everywhere  after you play a hole?” “There’s gophers underneath.  They can’t seem to get rid of them.”

“Howie, you’re doing good for a ‘lefty.'” “What do you mean, Jamie?” “You could use some  lessons from a pro.  But since you’re left-handed, I doubt you will ever find a left-handed pro.  Just aren’t any around here.  Check with the clubhouse manager, he may know of someone.”

“You know, Jamie, Phil Mickelson and Bubba Watson are both lefties.  Phil won the Masters at least three times.” “Well, Howie, they both learned to play the game the right way and then switched over to the left.  Howie, I doubt you will ever be able to learn how to play golf the right way.  You’re just a ‘lefty.'” “How do you know that, Jamie?” “I just know.”

“Jamie, golf is a game you play on your own.  It’s your game and you’re not competing against anyone, unless you’re a pro and playing for the big money.” “Howie, you will never play for the money.  It takes years to become a pro, I know.” “Well, Jamie, has the PGA invited you to join?” “Not yet, but I’m hoping.”

“Howie, you will never see Augusta.” “Well, Jamie, I don’t see you putting on a green jacket ever.  By the way, I have been to Augusta.  The most beautiful green I’ve ever seen and so many azaleas.  Jamie, when you’re at the Masters, you just feel the greatness of all the pros who have won there.  Arnie, Jack, Tiger and Phil.  The excitement is just electric.  What a thrill!  Arnold got jackets.  Nicklaus got several of them, and so did Tiger.  Phil got three of them, and Bubba just got his second one.  He’s a southpaw and always makes par. Just had to say it again.  Nothing like Augusta.”

“Well, Howie, I gotta go.  Glad you had a better game today.  One day you will play golf, but until then, you’ll just goof along.” “Jamie, I know you will never admit it, but I betcha you   played goof for awhile and then became pro, now that you are a real golfer.” “Never goofed!” “You’re a bluff, Jamie!” “I bet you are too, Howie.” “Aren’t we all, Jamie?  All of us at Bluff Creek.” “I’ll never say, Howie.” “No one will, Jamie.  It’s a ‘green code of silence.'” Both exchange smiles and winks.

“Howie, next time at the club?  I expect to see you here.” “Jamie, I know I’ll see you here.   You’re such a champ.  I idolize you.” “Now, you’re talking the right talk, Howie.” They both laugh. “See ya, Jamie.” “You too, Howie.”

By the way, Jamie and I are friends outside of golf.  I like him better there.  We are buddies, I think?

Goof or golf.  Whatever you call it, its just a game, but it’s always par for the course.         Even if you fib a little about it.  That’s what Bluff Creek is all about, a bluff club.

Giovanni Vanelli, Proprietor                                                                                                                                  Established 1799, Genoa, Italy                                                                                                                     Brooklyn, New York                                                                                                                                                 “I can fixa dat shoe.”

“Papa Giovanni, I got a blow out.  Can you patch?” said Leonardo in an excited tone of voice.  Leo continues, “I was running the court, my sole came apart.  I fell, so I was pulled out of the game.  Basketball is my game, you know.  I need to get back in a flash.  I’m the star player.  I slam dunk more than the others.  Please hurry, Papa.”

“Calm down, Leo.  I have to do a diagnostic.  If it’s fixable, I will fix it for free,” said Giovanni as he looked closely at the shoe through his spectacles along with a magnifying glass. “I see this is one of those high tech designer shoes.  They don’t hold up and not worth the money.  Okay, one is fine, the other is totaled.  So, I can’t fixa dat shoe. But, no time to waste, here’s another pair just like them.  They’ll hold up till you win that game.  Good luck!”

“Ooh, la, la.  Look what’s coming here.”  Store door is pushed open and the door bells jingle. “Good morning, sir.  I have one shoe that needs a quick fix.  The bow came off and needs to be reattached.  Can you fix? I need to make it to brunch in the Village in an hour.  Pardon me, Mr. Vanelli, I’m so preoccupied with the time and the brunch, I’m Annalise.” “Pleased to meet you, Annalise.  You can call me Gino. Let me do a quick diagnostic.  Yup,     I see the problem.  I can fixa dat shoe.  Just give me five minutes.”  It’s understandable why this woman caught his eye.  She is very attractive.  Tall and slender with sparkling blue eyes.  A blonde, always a plus to men, and so stylish.  She is fashionably dressed in a sea green linen jacket and slacks. A pink necklace of small fan shells separated by a small golden bead between each.  And, of course, very high style flats of the finest shell pink leather.  The shoes are high class.  The finest in Italian footwear.  Salvatore’s for sure.

“Annalise.  This is a very fine shoe.  All Italian. I just fixa da shoe.  Ready to go,” said Giovanni as he does a diagnostic on this fine woman. “Thank you, Gino.   How much, please?” “Nothing for you.  A lady of class to come in here with this fine footwear gets it for free.  Plus, I like your personality.  Enjoy your brunch.”  Annalise leaves out the door and bells ring.  He continues to do a diagnostic on Annalise as she returns to her car. “I hope she comes back and tells her well to do friends about me.  What a morning.  She made my day.  Glad to fixa dat shoe.”

“Good a mornin, fine sir.  What can I do for you?” “Embarrassed to say, I have no shoes, do you have a worn pair you can give to me?”  The gentleman with hair out of sorts and appears very disheveled. “I see, no shoes.  Come right in.  I fixa you right up.  Foist, let me make ah you a hot cup of expresso.  Here, enjoy.  Now, I make ah you the finest Genoan salami sandwich.  Here.  Hot and pressed and the best from Italy.  Your name, sir?”

“I’m Giuseppe.  I have no home and I have no work.  I do have a trade.  Like you, I am a cobbler.” “Hmm, ya know, I think I can use you here.  You can do some basic repairs and keep track of the orders.  Will you do?” “Gladly, thank you, Giovanni.  When do I start?” “Right after that salami sandwich,” said Gino in a playful way with a laugh. “Also, three things you must always do.  Greet the customer.  Then say ‘I can fixa dat shoe,’ and ‘let me do a diagnostic.’  Remember we are professionals and take pride in our trade.  Got it?” said Giovanni looking directly into Giuseppe’s eyes.  A little serious, but instructive of how the business is run. “I got it, Gino.  Thanks for the chance to prove myself and to gain back some self respect which I lost.” “You are on your way to happiness,  I will fixa you and Mamma will fixa you, too.  She’s been my love for forty five years.  She’s Genoan and I’m Sicilian.  We lived in Genoa for years.   I was known as the ‘Cobbler of Genoa.’ We came here with an invite from family.  They made us feel at home and Brooklyn is our home now.  Grab an apron and let’s get started,” said Giovanni with a smile and eager to perform his trade, ‘fixa da shoes.’

Door bells jingle.  Giuseppe said, “Good a mornin.  I can fixa dat shoe.” The lady laughs and said, “I’m his old lady, Ivanna.  I’ve been trying to fixa him for years, but it’s never worked. So we live together in peace and harmony.  He stays here and I stay at home,” she laughs with a smile. “Now, stop it, Ivanna.  We have work to do.  Giuseppe is my new assistant. He’s a cobbler, too.  Somehow related to you.  His heart always goes back to Genoa.  So, let us be.  What time is dinnah?  Add a plate for Giuseppe.  We will treat him like family.”

One last customer for the day.  The door is pushed open and the door bells jingle. “Liza, how good to see you.  What can I do for you?  By the way, this is my new assistant, Giuseppe.  He’s a cobbler, too.  Now, two in Brooklyn.” “Gino, I need a used pair of baby shoes.  My third grand child, a girl, is nearly a year old and I’m on a budget.  I figured you had a lot of them after the children grow out of them,” said Liza with anticipation. “I see you have a Snoberiche shopping bag.  What expensive shoes did you buy for yourself today?  I know you women all like Italian.  I won’t ask how much, but you paid too much.”

Giovanni thinking to himself…I can’t believe it.  Used shoes for her grande bambino. Shame on her.  I know just the thing to get her to change her mind.  And she will.

“Liza, I have a basket of baby shoes for you to see.  All worn, torn and dirty.  Not really fixable.  A new and sturdy pair is what a baby needs.  Remember, the best shoes for a correct walk for the rest of her life.  Do you really want these?  I can never, out of good conscience, fix or sell these shoes to anyone.  Here’s a coupon to ‘Baby Feet,’ just two doors down.  Andrea will fit the shoes good, but you must bring bambino with you to get a proper fit.” “Thank you, Giovanni, you have convinced me.  Arrivederci, Gino, and to you Giuseppe.”

“Well, Giuseppe.  Day is done.  Lock the door and close the blinds.  One last thing.  You need a place to live.  Let me call my cousin Marco, he owns the block and the rentals across the street.  I’m sure he has one for you.  Remember, you are family.” “Cousin Marco, how are ya?  Cousin Giovanni, here.  Never heard of me?  I’m your cousin, our papas are brothers.  All from Sicily.  I have a favor to ask of you.  I need a place for a cousin to live. Yes, he is family.  Do you have a rental across the street?  His name?  Giuseppe.  Never heard of him?  Doesn’t sound Sicilian?  He’s Genoan, on Mamma’s side of the family.  That doesn’t count?  He is blood.  You can trust me.  You will?  Yes, I will tell him to behave himself and if he doesn’t you will be around to see him.  Thank you, cousin.” “You have a place to live.  Now, dinnah is on the table.  Always remember, you are family.  Don’t need Marco upset.  He runs the family business.  Now let me hear that line once more, please.”

Giuseppe said “I can fixa dat shoe. And, I need to do a diagnostic.” “Great,  Mamma should have table set and an Italian feast waits for us.” “Hello, Gino and Giuseppe.  Dinnah’s on the table.  Have a seat.” “These are salami sandwiches.  Is that all?” “That’s all, the best of Genoa.  You fixa da shoes.  I fixa da dinnah.  We are family.”

Exclusive and upscale living.

“We have a restrictive covenant that prohibits trucks in here. The homeowners association will make you remove it. Tell Tom he will have ten days to move his truck out of here,” said Elliott Sizemore, president of the association.

“Oh no, that’s my truck.  He likes luxury, but I like power.  It’s a ‘Meteor Classic,’ loaded with all the luxuries plus power.  It is super powered by a rugged hemi 16 cylinder engine.  Just a tap of the pedal and you will zoom out of here.  Twenty two hundred horses power this baby,” said Audrey proudly with a delightful smile.

“This truck is not you.  Ladies don’t drive trucks.  Only men drive trucks.  You are a woman with class.  You need luxury and not power.  The ‘LaMonte’ is your style,” said Elliott hoping to convince Audrey to return to conformity.

“Look Elliott, I’m a new type of woman.  Free to be me.  I will have it no other way.  It’s time to change the rules here,” said Audrey with a stance ready to fight.  The right leg is bent at the knee and firmly planted in front of her.  Audrey’s left leg is stretched behind her to provide support for her as she moves forward.  She makes a one, two punch forcefully to her side looking Elliott straight in the eye.  He stares her down hoping to intimidate her into submission.  Audrey just ignores him and does another one, two.

“You cannot have this truck in here.  It’s not what we want. I wonder what the neighbors will think.  This is ‘Alegria Estates,’ not ‘Hillbilly Hills.’  We are high class and not trash. This is an eyesore and a classless nuisance.  It must go.  It will go,” said Elliott with his finger pointed directly at Audrey.

Audrey points her finger back at Elliott saying “You are not the almighty here.  How dare you dictate to me.  I will fight to the end.  I will not make it easy for you, and I mean it.”

“Look at it, jacked up ten feet above the ground with monster tractor tires.  This vehicle will never fit into your garage.  You know that everyone is expected to park their cars inside their garages at seven p.m. sharp. That truck will never fit in there,”  said Elliott.

“My truck does has style.  It’s painted with a metallic raspberry red with sparking specks across it’s finish.  On it’s side panel, as you see, there is a graphic of silver stars spilling down from the sky from the upper left corner of the door.  At the base of the panel, the stars become iridescent flowing like a river across the the edge, then rise up to the upper right corner, then streaking across the tail gate.  Across the panel of stars, scripted in pink and outlined in raspberry, are the words in a lower case, ‘free to be me.’  Now that is magnificent.  Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Audrey, your truck does have class and it is luxurious, but I’m afraid it must go.  The association will vote against it.” said Elliott.

“Elliott, who makes the decision about my truck?” said Audrey in a resigned manner.

“It’s the association.  The bylaws of the association already make it clear that no truck belongs here.  There’s nothing I can do about it.    I got an idea.  How about the ladies from the association board take a look at your truck?” said Elliott in a hopeful tone of voice.

“That’s fine with me.  Where shall we meet and when?” said Audrey with a hopeful tone of voice, too.

“Well, Audrey, it will be the women of the committee.  There are three of them.  You know them well.  They will be awfully critical of it.  The  three are, Countess Vanessa LaFortunata, the richest woman  here.  Second is Stella Alvarez.  She has tagged herself as the ‘queen of Alegria.’  It was she that drafted the ordinance including a clause that no trucks are allowed here.  She knows how to charm and influence the committee to follow her dictates. We already know her decision.  It will be no,” said Elliott in a resigned tone of voice.

“Lastly, Maybelline Avonage.  She knows what is beauty and what is not.  Maybelline has an eye for glamour.  She may like the style and color, particularly the raspberry red frosted by a sea of stars.”

“I will even add a man, Sir Anthony of Empathy to view your truck and to give an honest opinion about it.  He is someone who has good judgement and he will try to give a fair assessment of it.  He is no knight in shining armor.  He may or may not rule against you,” said Elliott in an assuring voice.

“Again, Elliott, where shall we meet and when?” “At twelve noon tomorrow at the clubhouse.  Look your best and have your truck sparkling like diamond stars.  See you then,” said Elliott. “I’ll be ready to accept their approval.  Got to be positive about it,” said Audrey.

The three ladies and gentleman arrive at the association clubhouse.  Audrey is standing next to her truck moving her hand across it’s hood and side panel to point out it’s most noticeable feature, the graphic of shining stars.

“Well, what do we have here?  I see you have lowered your standards, Audrey.  This is a nuisance and quite vulgar, I must say.  It must go.  I’ll see to it,” said Countess Vanessa LaFortunata.

Stella Alvarez speaks her mind. “Simply, it must go.  I will direct the committee to see it my way, and they will, Audrey,”  in a snobbish manner and her arrogant way.

“Maybelline Avonage, your opinion, please,” said Elliott. “You call this luxurious with class?  I think not.  It has no glamour.  Audrey, you should have, at least, applied some blush and lip gloss.  And a string of pearls would have swayed my opinion, but it does not.”

“Sir Anthony of Empathy, your assessment, please?” said Elliott with an appeal for Audrey. “Mrs. Ventura, I will give you an unbiased  assessment of your truck.  It has charm, it has style, but it is not a ‘LaMonte.’  Common sense tells me a truck is not a car.  It has no luxury at all.   I’m sorry, Audrey, but to tell you the truth, it doesn’t belong here.”

“Ladies and gentleman, and you too, Audrey.  We will meet here at the clubhouse tomorrow at seven o’clock in the evening.  Audrey, you and Tom, both, must be there.  See all of you then,” said Elliott with style and charm.

Audrey and Tom appear before the homeowners association. “Mr. and Mrs. Ventura, you have violated the rules here.  We have a restrictive covenant that requires every homeowner to drive motorcars of class.  A truck does not belong here,” said association president Elliott Sizemore.

Audrey to the committee. “I have come to the realization that I no longer fit the mold here.  Conformity is not for me.  I’m a new type of woman.  Free to be me,” said Audrey.

“Mr. Ventura, what do you think of your spouse’s rebellious ways?” said Elliott waiting to hear his comments about the ‘new type of woman.’ “Well, Audrey is not the same.  She attended a seminar a month ago called ‘For Women Only.’  She came home so excited. Audrey said, ‘I’m a new type of woman.  Free to be me.'”

Committee chair, Elliott Sizemore, seeks recommendations from the committee.  “Countess  LaFortunata, your decision?” “Mrs. Ventura no longer belongs here.  Although she has wealth, she no longer is a lady, but a woman who wants her freedom.  She must be granted her wishes.”

“And you, Sir Anthony, you are a man of wisdom and stature, your recommendation for the Ventura’s?”  “This is a matter of principle.  Logic tells me it doesn’t make sense for them to stay.  My judgement is to expel them from ‘Alegria.'”

“Maybelline, does Audrey appear to be a woman of class and distinction?”  said Elliott hoping for a sway to the positive in favor of Audrey.  “No, Elliott.  She no longer cares about keeping up appearances.  She has let herself go.  She is not a lady of glamour and has to go.  A truck is not a ‘LaMonte.’  Sadly, Audrey, you must go and your truck, too.”

“Senora Alvarez, your judgement call?” said Elliott with the last appeal for Audrey.   “They longer are elitist.  She has lowered her standards.  Women of class do not drive trucks.  The bylaws state that a truck is not allowed here.  It must go.”

Chairman Sizemore to Mr. and Mrs. Ventura. “What do you want to do, conform or rebel?”  “I’m a new type of woman.  Free to be me. I want to go,” said proudly by Audrey to the committee. “Mr. Ventura, since Audrey is a ‘new type of woman,’  she deserves the freedom to go.   Now, Mr. Ventura, your decision?”  “I’m a new type of man.  Free to be me.  We must go,” said in a joyful tone of voice by Tom Ventura.”   “I, and the committee, rule in your favor, you are free to leave,” said Elliott Sizemore to the Ventura’s.

Tom to Audrey.   “My darling, you’re free to be you.  I’m free to be me.  Remember we belong to each other.”   “We do, indeed,” said Audrey with a sparkle in her eyes.

Tom and Audrey embrace and leave the clubhouse arm in arm. “Now, who is driving what?  You the LaMonte and me the truck.   You know, women don’t drive trucks,” Tom said laughingly.  Audrey responds with a smile, “I drive a truck and men drive luxury.  I’m a new type of woman.  Free to be me.”

“A pack of dogs, on the run?  Mutts, junkyards, pedigrees?  Crossing Pine at Magnolia?     Coming my way, get Lillie in?  Don’t need a dog n’ cat fight?  Where is Buffy?  Bring my dillywhacker, meet at street, no time to waste?  Call Lurleen?  A pack of five? On my way dear,” said Emma to Mary Lou.  “Calling Sam, our reliable dogcatcher.  He knows how to handle rabid dogs.  Catch net and whistle will subdue them all.  He’s a man of courage. We can count on Sam,” said by Mary Lou to Emma.

“Lurleen, this is Emma.  Dogs are on the loose.  Mad dogs and foaming at the mouth. Bring your artillery.”  “Hanging out my wash.  Will clothespins do?” said Lurleen. “Bring them.  Must hurry.  It’s a pack of five. Call Virginia!” said Emma in a hyper tone of voice.

“Virginia, this is Lurleen.  Vicious dogs heading your way.  Heard they are hungry.  Bring in ‘Pom Pom’ and her pork chop, too.  They can wait for lunch in pound.  Hurry.  Bring your broom.   We need to make a clean sweep.  Call Lolita.  No time to waste.  A pack of five,” said Lurleen.

“Lolita, need you right away.  Deranged dogs on the run.  I know Jim and Joyce are hiding in the closet.  Record ‘Hospital Lovers’ for later. They will still be there tomorrow. Grab your rake.  For heaven’s sake,” said hurriedly by Virginia, “And call Daberta.” “She’s watching ‘Hospital Lovers,’ too.  Never misses an episode,” said Lolita.  “Get her away from the tube.  Bring your mace, I mean your tape and lace.  We will round them up and tie them down.  Hurry!” said Virginia.

“We pick up today where we left off.  Jim eyes Joyce across the hall.   He nods his head to signal to Joyce his desire for her.  Joyce nods her head back to Jim.  ‘Hospital Lovers’ will continue in a moment.”  “Nurse Cratchet, please monitor patient in critical care.  We cannot leave him alone.  He needs to be nursed back to health.  A professional is needed.  Thank you,” said Joyce in a nervous and rushed voice.

Joyce, thinking to herself.  My lover awaits me.  My heart is pounding.  My, he looks so fine.  Jim can’t wait to get with me.  I know this is not appropriate behavior, but with Hospital Lovers, anything goes here.  

“Not a good time to call.  In the middle of things.  Rinsing greens.  Peas in the pot. Cornbread with peppers in the oven, spread with a coat of butter.  Banana pudding cooling in the fridge,” said Daberta and back to Lolita.  “Girl, I can’t miss ‘Hospital Lovers.’  Jim and Joyce just closed the hall door.  Just know it’s hot in there.  Oh, I am so hot, too.” “Killers on the run. This is urgent.  Mongrels hunting for prey.  A pack of five,” said Lolita. “Need to bring ‘Prissy.’  She knows how to charm the men.  Dabbing her with ‘Alure,’ from head to tail, as we speak,” said Daberta back to Lolita.  “Okay, bring her.  A distraction may lure to our defense.  Let’s get out of here!”     

All are meeting one street over, Carnivore Alley.  “Yes, this is risky, but we must do.  A pack of five.  All killers ready to prey.  Got your weapons, girls?  Broom, rake, mace, I mean lace, clothespins, and my dillywhacker.   Here, leather boots, coats, and pants. None of us can afford to go rabid crazy.  Must use caution, and listen to my commands. That way we will all know the plays.  A strong defense is what we need.  Ready to fight? Ready to strike?  A battle we will win,” said by Mary Lou in a commanding and spirited voice. “A pack of five.  Five of us to match their might.  Again, we will fight and we must strike,” said again by Mary Lou in a devious and shrewd snicker.

“I see them coming, over the hill.   A calvary of five.  Sprinting by ground and in air.  An aggressive assault, defeat their intent.  We must stand strong and fight to the end. Ready? Charge!” said Mary Lou with dillywhacker in hand.

“Yap,yap, yap, yap.  Growl.  Yap, yap, yap, yap.  Swat, swat, swat.  Snap, snap, snap.  Swat, snap, swat, swap, swat, snap.  “Where is Sam?” said Lurleen in a panic.  “Two at me.   Please help.  Oh, please help me.  The mace, the mace, the lace, the lace,” said Emma in a panic of fear. Swat, swat. “Take that, you little varmint,”said Virginia, as she swipes her broom.  “Let me at ’em. ” said Mary Lou with dillywhacker in hand.  Whack, whack, whack. Swat, swat, swat.  Swat, whack.  Snap, snap.  Swat, whack, swat, whack.  Snap, snap, snap. Yap, yap, yap.  “Oh, you want to fight?  How’s that whack?” said Mary Lou fighting the ferocious little mongrel.  “Take that, take that, you little killer.”  One last, swat.  One last whack.  “Now, get out of here.”  All cower away in defeat.

“Whew, what a fight,” said Emma gasping for air. “Me, too.  What a strike,” said Daberta. “Where were you?  Certainly not on the front line,”  said Lolita.  So, ‘Prissy’ fizzled out in fear?” said Mary Lou.  Virginia to all, with chin on broom.  “We really swept them away.          I really swept them away.”  “Says who?” said Lurleen irked at Virginia.  The heroine of the hour.  “We are all heroes.  We banded together and victory is our win,” said Mary Lou smiling with glee.

“I’m hungry. wings anyone?  The treats on me.  Dilly Dog?”said Daberta in an apologetic sound of voice.  “I’m in.  I’m in.  I’m in and I’m in,” said  Mary Lou, Emma, Lurleen, Lolita, and Virginia.  “Can ‘Prissy’ go, too?  She cheered you on.  On the side line, I was rooting for you,” said Daberta to all.  “Yeah, come on.  You did say the Dilly’s are on you?  Then, you’re in,” said Mary Lou.  The other’s all say.  “You’re in.”

“Did anyone see them?” said Mary Lou.  “I don’t recall, but they were small,” said Lurleen. “There’s the ‘Dilly Dog,’ up ahead.  All, in a fast pace, “here we are at the ‘Dilly Dog, Dilly Dog, Dilly Dog,”  all in unison.  “Familiar, I see,” laughingly said by Emma. “There’s the pack of five.  All killers, I see.  Ha, ha, ha,”  Lurleen exclaimed.  “There’s Sam, dog in hand and soda, the other,” said Lolita with a laugh and a smile.  “Now, ‘Prissy,’ mind your manners.  Mama’s got a dog for you,” said Daberta in a motherly way.

“Now, Sam, I knew we could count on you.  Reward this pack of five and you are forgiven,” said Mary Lou awaiting a reply.  “All of you, the pack of five, it’s on me.”  “I see you rewarded the pack of five.  A hot dog for each, I see,” said Lurleen with hands on hips and jokingly to Sam.  “All killers, I see,” said Virginia, bent over with a laugh. “Pack of five meet the pack of five,” said Sam with a gleam in his eyes and a smirk on his face.

“Muffin, Ginger, Pom Pom, Spice Girl, and Buffy.  Where have you been?  So, you’re the pack of five,” said Mary Lou.  “Muffin, bad girl,” said Emma.  “You have been naughty, Ginger.  Never again,” said Lurleen.  “I would have never thought, you in a pack of mongrels, Pom Pom.  Shame on you, shame on me.  Enjoy your dog.  No pork chop tonight,” said Virginia.  “This is just like you, Spice Girl.  You are grounded.  Oh yes, grounded.  No TV for you.  Not on my lap.  No ‘Hospital Lovers,'” said Lolita in a rebuking tone of voice.  “You know, Buffy, I warned you about this.  Back gate opened.  You’re in lock up for the rest of the day, after your hot dog,” said Mary Lou.  All laugh.

Daberta to all, “‘Hospital Lovers,’ thirty minutes away.  Ice cream on me.  Must hurry, out of the closet today.”

Dixie’s–“the prime place for steak.”                                                                                                   Cattletown, Texas

The power of suggestion.  One of the most persuasive ways is to make a subtle statement.  The most effective ads today are subliminal.  Not direct, but indirect, but heard over and   over again, till the customer believes that it’s true and that it’s right for him.  So he takes the bait. This story will demonstrate how the power of a subliminal statement can convince customers at Dixie’s to choose their “juicy prime steak” just by a subliminal  suggestion.

A crowded restaurant, Dixie’s, filled to the brim with diners.  A leisure lunch.  Business lunch.  Power lunch.  Just lunch.  It’s so crowded that it takes time to take and to deliver  their orders as quickly as they normally do.  So, in the mean time, luncheon guests enjoy pleasant conversation with a thirst quenching beverage while they wait and listen to  country pop tunes played overhead in the sound system throughout the restaurant.

“Hey, Bubba.  Darlene, you look great.  What can I getcha?  I know it’s hoppin in here right now, but I’ll put you at the top of my prime list,” said Maxine.  “Can you give us a few minutes, Maxine?  We have one more coming.  Don’t know what’s the hold up with Donna Sue,” said Darlene and she said “should be here shortly, then we will be ready to order.”   “The same ice tea for all of you?”  “Yes, ma’am,” all said.  Be right back folks.”

Music playing over sound system.  “Rockin and rollin at the honky-tonk.  The place where guy meets girl.  Love is in their eyes, but they don’t know it.  Our juicy prime steak is the one for you.  For love may be the thing for you.”

“Well, Donna Sue, where ya been?” said Bubba.  “Waitin in the line at the post office.  Just for one single stamp.  They are pushin the book now and said the single stamps will soon be gone.  Waitin thirty minutes for a postage stamp.”  “Donna Sue, ice tea is on it’s way.  We haven’t ordered yet.  Maxine will be back soon to take our orders,” said Darlene.

“Listen goz, said Donna Sue.  That’s Dolly’s new hit.”  “A hillbilly heart is so sincere.  It’s from the heart and know that it’s so  real.  Just remember our juicy prime steak are just a grillin.  It’s the thing that’s just for you.  A hillbilly heart is so sincere.  A hillbilly heart made just for you.”  Donna Sue singing along with Dolly.  “A hillbilly heart is so sincere.  It’s from the heart and know that it’s so real.  Just remember our juicy prime steak are just a grillin.  It’s the thing that’s just for you.  A hillbilly heart is so sincere.  A hillbilly heart made just for you.”

Maxine returns.  “Okay, folks, wha-da-ya have?  Hey, Donna Sue.”  “Juicy prime steak.  Juicy prime steak,” said Darlene and Bubba.  Donna Sue, “for some reason, juicy prime steak comes to mind.  I’ll have it, too.”  Back soon.  Maxine thinking to herself, “Hillbilly Heart works every time.  Donna Sue doesn’t even know that the lyrics with the message ‘juicy prime steak’ convinced her that it was her choice to make and she did it.  Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!”

“Ben, where have you been?  We need to close this deal now. Only thirty minutes.  Sign here, Gilmer.  Ben, here.  I will notarize.  I am a notary.  Always been.  Have to be ready to seal the deal.”  Ben to Eddie “Sorry, Eddie.  You’re always in a hurry.  Fast Eddie!”  “Okay, fellas the deal is done.  A one hundred thousand dollar deal for three floors of office cubes.  Lunch is on me.  How does juicy prime steak sound?  It just sounds like a good deal, I mean an excellent choice for three hungry men.”  “Good to me,” said Ben.  “Me too,” said Gilmer.

“Hello, gals.  Where ya been?” said Bertha.  “Pretending that we know how to play bridge, but we don’t,” laughingly said Doris.  “We deal the cards, then play fish,” said Iris.  “We enjoy the bridge mix and then lollygag and gossip the rest of the time.” said Anna Belle.  Bertha to the three “where’s your fourth, June Bug?”  “Couldn’t stay.  Big dinner plans.  Likes to prepare a nice meal with the entree, of course, being the juicy prime steak,” said Doris.  “Ice tea for all three?”  “Yes, ma’am, Miss Bertha,” said Anna Belle.  “Back in a jiffy.”

Doris to Iris and Anna Belle “Every time I come in here, I always listen for Elvis.  I just love his trilogy of ‘Dixie and the Land of Cotton.’  Just brings tears to my eyes.”  Iris to the other ladies “Hey, listen, that’s an old tune of Loretta’s she never released.  Just listen and it just about tells the truth about some men.  It’s called ‘Fetch Me That Man.’  Good tune, but he ain’t no man to catch.”

“Fetch me that man.  He’s the only man I ever dared.  I’m ready for his heart, but I’m not in his heart.  A juicy prime steak will cure the ill in your heart.  He’s a sorry catch of a man.”  “Ready to order, girls?” said Bertha.  “Juicy prime steak, juicy prime steak and juicy prime steak,” all three agree.  Bertha to herself “Just unbelievable, ‘Fetch Me That Man’ with that subliminal line caught every one of them.”

“Hey, Miss Marie,” said all three youngsters.  “Hey to you darlins and hey to you Mama.”    “Marie, the kids will all have the juicy prime burgers and I’ll have the same, too.”  “All juicy coolers for you, babies?”  All three say “Yes ma’am, Miss Marie.”  Comin up!”

Geoffrey to his mom, “Hey, Mama, that’s your favorite song.  You and Miss Marie always like the lyrics.”  “Hey Bev, here’s the meal.  Enjoy!”  “Here’s our song Ree.  Just listen.”   “Only a woman understands a woman.  A man will never understand.  A juicy prime burger, a man will never know.  Juicy prime burgers do understand.”

Dixie to restaurant staff “We broke a record today.  We served ninety six juicy prime steaks in our three hour lunch.  Ninety six is just unbelievable.  We’re gonna keep our same tunes with our subliminal line “juicy prime steak” for quite some time.  Sing Dolly’s song with me and then a juicy prime steak lunch for all of us.”

“A hillbilly heart is so sincere.  It’s from the heart and know that it’s so real.  Just remember our juicy prime steak are just a grillin.  It’s the thing that’s just for you.  A hillbilly heart is so sincere.  A hillbilly heart made just for us!”

“Hey, stop by Dixie’s.  There’s a juicy prime steak waiting just for you.”