Stuck In The Middle With You

As you know Bubbie has been somewhat stuck in the Midwest, namely Indiana, for going on 3 ½ weeks. It’s the longest that he has been separated from Sweet Pea and his home. He told me that it has forever changed him, but for the better because it has aided in his realization of the priorities of, and in his life. At first one misses everyone and everything equally. It is grief. Then time begins to peel away the layers and the material belongings fall away; likewise with social and demographic scenery; the familiarity of culture, architecture, plants, driving familiar routes on familiar roads. One still misses them, just on a lesser level than one’s loved ones.

The longing for loved ones and friends, familiar faces and common conversations become more prominent. As much as one has studied faces; shared funny smiles, laughter and tears, time clouds those memories and the subtle nuances fade without strained focus. Thoughts of our people are pictures in our mind, missing the glossy sparkle in one’s eyes, the curl in their lips and the blushed glow in their emotive cheeks. How precious the smallest items that are so easily taken for granted.

Beyond the memories is missing a touch, a hug, holding one’s hand. How nice it would be to have a loved one walk up and put a hand on his shoulder and touch Bubbie’s arm while conversing on any menial topic; to sit side by side with arms lightly tangential.

Yes, being alone lends itself to living for one’s self. In an unfamiliar environment, knowing no one, it is more difficult to serve others. Tremendous value is gain from the smallest acts of kindness. What Bubbie have lost in physical affection has been lessened in severity by looking to serve others; since all are strangers one can offer little more than smiles and polite courtesy. But the smallest things can add up quickly and warm the heart. The good news, in Bubbie’s view, is one doesn’t have to leave all behind to reap the same benefits; forget the petty annoyances of the one’s you love—smile, touch, and serve.

Hot Wings

Bubbie had a craving for a treat today and thought he'd go have some hot wings. He went to Chilli's of all places cause he had them there before and they were good. Yep, they were good today too. As he bit into the crispy, tasty, deep fried morsels the peppery aroma and taste reminded him of a time some 25 years ago. He was a young man and worked as a tree climber. He had worked with a 4 to 6 man crew depending on who showed up for work that day (mostly due to hangover recovery) and they normally could do two jobs a day; climbing trees and sawing them down, loading the chunks on the trucks, chipping the brush, grinding the stumps, and raking up the area. In a part of town known as West Endicott was a bar called Stu's Place that they would often try to arrange to eat lunch at because of the hot wings. According to the big boss man, they had to be reasonably located in the area to justify taking the time to drive to that area of town. They could usually finagle a reason to drive through there around noon. Tears well in his eyes and he sniffs his nose a little from the pyretic heat of his hot wings as he reminisces smiling, he’d get a dozen for three bucks! Now you get half as many for twice as much.

Sharon, the woman that cooked them delicious hot chicken axillaries gave him the recipe which consisted of varying amounts of hot sauce, butter and ketchup, but Bubbie could never replicate Stu's flavor; probably because of the atmosphere, the barroom fryer oil, and the fact that they were ravished from working hard all morning. In Bubbie’s view, those Chilli's wings tasted that much better because of those great memories.

By the way, Stu was a bit of a goober; bald-headed and a little arrogant. The crew used to call him Mr. Pid as a joke (git it? Stu Pid) and that still makes Bubbie laugh. They'd never say it to his face cause he'd bar ‘em and they'd have to wait weeks before he'd let ‘em back in. Good times.