Bye Bye LA

We have been visiting this house in LA for over 20 years. Harry's dad, and step mom, Doris, lived there after marrying. When Harry's mother died at the young age of 64, Harry's dad waited the perfunctory mourning period and then set about to meet a companion. He carried his notes on index cards in his breast pocket, just as Harry does, and one of those cards had the requirements he had for a second wife. He dated a few women, but Doris, who was also widowed, happened to be working in the gift shop in the Hotel in Los Angeles that Harry's dad had built, and she fit all the requirements. She was Jewish, attractive, did not have a career to interfere with Sidney's schedules and respectably widowed. She also turned out to be loving, kind, caring and a wonderful stepmother wife and stepmother. They lived in an apartment for a while in Encino and moved back and forth between Sidney's apartment in Cleveland and LA, but eventually moved to LA permanently with this house purchase. Doris loves LA. Sidney loved Cleveland. But business was happening in LA so the move fit.

Over those 20 some years, Harry logged over 940,000 miles on Continental Airlines visiting his father and also attending to the business that they had in LA. In fact, soon he will hit the million mile mark and we both will be gifted a permanent elite status. Quite a nice bonus! But well deserved by a son who gave up a weekend almost every month to sit in his father's kitchen, discuss politics, drive him around when macular degeneration took his ability to drive away and tend to whatever need he had. The job jar was always full of little tasks. And the visit always included being driven to their favorite restaurants. In fact, we did the same thing with Doris this weekend. Emilio's for lunch, where for years they went after temple. My favorite, The Bijou. The requisite Brett's deli. Most of these spots know Doris, and Harry also.

Recently, Doris decided that it was time to sell the house. Sidney is gone and she has decided that it would be a better move for her to go into a retirement apartment complex near her sons in the Bay area. We were shocked when it sold in three weeks with a move out date of Sept. 1 so we hustled out to LA last weekend to visit one last time and help out with the moving preparations.

It was sad! I wandered about in Sidney's little backyard filled with his flowers, roses, potted citrus trees, fig trees and the most spectacular grapefruit tree you have ever seen. He loved to garden. As his sight began to fail, he would finally allow me to pull weeds, and pot annuals. Before that, I wouldn't think of touching his garden. It was his pride and joy. You plant a tree when you own a home and its growth parallels the growth of your family, your children, your grandchildren. You watch it grow but often it survives you. Someone else will move into that home and I hope that they enjoy going outside every morning to pluck a grapefruit for their breakfast as much as Sidney did. Some of the garden ornaments are coming to the Keys so that we can place them about our yard and think of Sid and Doris.

I know this is a very difficult stage in Doris's life. Leaving a city she has called home for over 60 years, giving up a car, leaving a house for an apartment and moving into what will most likely be her last home. She is handling the move with the grace and dignity that she handles everything. She asked over and over if we would come to see her in Marin county. Of course, we promised. And plans are already in place for day trips in wine country, new restaurants to become favorites and, hopefully, many new memories.

Gratuity?

Mavis, our housekeeper, found this in the trash yesterday in one of the rooms at the motel that she was cleaning. I debated whether or not to call the guests, which is standard policy if they leave something behind, but considering the nature of the item and that it was in the trash I decided to not get involved. Not that I believe that marijuana should be illegal, but the law is the law and I wanted to stay out of that arena. I imagine it went into the trash by accident. I won't go into details about what I did with the items...

Guests leave a myriad of treasures behind on a regular basis. Food left behind goes to the housekeepers. Beer goes into my "fishing fridge" and later into the boat cooler. Clothes, if we cannot find owners to return them to, or if they went into the general laundry, go into the lost and found and after a few weeks unclaimed, they are washed and taken by staff or end up at Salvation Army. I take a trash bag full about once a month. We have a drawer full of phone chargers, camera chargers, and foreign currency converters which we try to recycle to needy persons. We have shipped clothes, eyeglasses, jewelry and even a purse with money, credit cards and passport to a guest from Czechoslovakia (we intercepted their American travels in North Carolina). The item that gave us the biggest laugh was a vibrator. No one wanted to go near that one, but we did giggle all day. But one item, that continually gets left behind, is pillows. I think guests are often attached to their own pillows and travel with them. As a rule, I throw them out. Bed bugs are a major problem in the hotel industry and I will not chance them being transported on a pillow and living large in my laundry room while I try to locate their owners. The most striking and disturbing thing I have learned is that often, these pillows are disgustingly dirty! Last week two very lovely middle aged women, who drove a nice car, were dressed beautifully and had the appearance of good hygiene, left a pillow that under the case, was about as filthy an item as I have ever seen. I didn't even want to touch it to toss it. Go figure??

I have left one item in a hotel. My very favorite Ralph Lauren classic black blazer in New Orleans after a girlfriend trip to Mardis Gras. I called immediately after discovering my loss, within a couple hours of checking out. I knew exactly where I left it hanging in the room on the back of the closet door. The hotel said that housekeeping had not seen it and it was never found. I still regret that loss, and that event has prompted me to make sure that we make every effort to return all legal substances to their rightful owner.

Beautiful Oasis

My incredibly creative and wonderful husband has done it again!! What started out as a little idea of mine - perhaps a little corner pond off of our patio - has turned into another Harry feat. I started digging a spot the winter of 2009 and then it sat there, a useless hole, during the hot summer months. Sam and I took up the cause again this past winter, digging drywall buckets of gravel and coral rock out and Harry carted them a few at a time to an empty lot we own for fill material. At times, the job seemed impossible. We discovered mamouth chunks of coral that needed the assistance of the laws of physics and a hammer drill to unearth. I began to contemplate the value of TNT. The project then began to snowball. We needed a waterfall. We needed electrical power and a pump house and underground pipes and drainage. Harry dragged beautiful coral rocks back from a rental property a few at a time. We moved a behemoth landscape rock from the front and another purchased in Miami. These rocks entailed platforms, rollers and Harry the Pharaoh and Carolyn the slave, rolling the monsters to the backyard and into place. Harry built a platform for the waterfall out of cement. "It is too big" I lamented - it turned out to be perfect. Matt's brother in law Ryan, who was visiting, made the mistake of asking one day if there was anything he could do to help. Next thing he knew, he and Matt moved a citrus tree and dug trenches. Sam helped. I helped. But the hero was Harry, who envisioned and created this absolutely delightful, and soothing, water scape.

The Empty Nest

After a visit from Jack and Matt, Matt's brother-in-law Ryan, and Sam's friend Amy who lives in San Fransisco - and then everyone departing including Sam (for a visit "up north"), it is quiet around Manatee Insanity. Too quiet, perhaps.

This was the 2nd Annual Urich Boy's Fishing trip, but the weather did not cooperate one bit. The winds were consistently blowing enough to make a trip out to the Gulf Stream unpleasant and not doable with Jack on board. We were disappointed, but filled the time with activity. Harry and the boys and I headed over to Sanibel Island on the gulf coast for a couple days. Jack wore us out with swimming in the ocean and pool and a night time flash light adventure down the beach hunting for shells and crabs. We teased Grandpa Harry a good deal over a crab that scurried toward him instead of away, and according to Jack, he "screamed like a girl" when the crab landed on his foot. We ate seafood and Matt was able to visit with a college buddy who happened to be staying with his family on the island. I appreciated that Matt would discuss politics for hours on end with Harry and give me some relief!

When Uncle Ryan "Ry-Ry" Fitzpatrick arrived, we feasted on Doc Ford's Yucatan shrimp (a dish recreated from a favorite spot in Sanibel) and the younger crowd hung out long after Jack and his grandparents went to bed. The next day we drove to Marathon to swim at the motel, did tourist activities and also did some evening shark fishing. Our last day was spent in the secluded and sheltered mangroves catching snappers and a last dinner out with a nightcap at the Pilot House bar that has underwater lights and glass in the floorboards and tubes to feed the fish. Jack ended the night with a solo dance to the band playing "Teach Your Children" by Crosby, Stills and Nash. Good taste.


Jack went to the airport, wearing his new shirt backwards since he liked the design and his new pirate gear. I wonder is the TSA took his plastic sword away?

I miss them. And, I am sure that in a few years, I will be able to have both Ruby and Jack here for Grammy Care's Day Camp. Jack loves Florida and did not want to leave. When I asked him if he wouldn't miss everyone in Ohio, he told me he could go there on holidays! I encouraged him to work on his Mom. Maybe they will come back some day!

Tripping

I have calmed down from my confrontation with the TSA, but I am not done. I have researched the new scanning device, which are called, in some reports, a virtual strip search. There are questions about safety from exposure. And, the TSA itself stated that the scan was to replace pat downs. Apparently they forgot to tell the folks in Albuquerque. I will be writing my protest letters to my congresswoman and such, but of course, I will get the usual canned responses I always do. I remember being a child and a real treat was to get our feet xrayed in a machine in the shoe department in the downtown Youngstown department store we went to for our oh-so sturdy Stride Rites. The radiation hazards associated with shoe fitting x-ray units were recognized as early as 1950. The machines were often out of adjustment and were constructed so radiation leaked into the surrounding area. Who knew?? And who knows what the effects from these body scans will be.

On a more positive note, my trip to Albuquerque was to visit my stepdaughter Jezebel, her husband Matt and there two babies, our grandchildren, Jenavieve and Anastasia. This visit followed my trip to Ohio the week before to attend my granddaughter Ruby's second birthday and visit her brother Jack and parents, Matt and Megan.

Ohio weather was lovely. Warm days and cool nights. Everything looked so lush but I found myself missing palm trees. I didn't think that would ever happen! I did enjoy seeing grass though, and Matt and Megan's looked particularly beautiful since they had a new sprinkler system installed. Down here, grass is difficult to grow so rock and coral are substitutes in many yards. Several highlights of the visit were: Ruby kissing my hand after I arrived and telling me she missed me. Jack lying in bed with me sharing stories and telling me "someone loves you more than anything in the whole world - me!" Our birthday dinner at the famous Tony Packo's and Megan's sister going into labor and delivering a beautiful baby girl the next morning with Megan there to witness. Jack and Ruby and I going to see Toy Story 3 - Jack wearing the new pajamas I gave him that he didn't want to take off.


The trip to Albuquerque was very different. Albuquerque is in the high desert and the scenery is so very different. Much of the landscaping is called "zeroscape" and it is very architectural with stones, cactus and soil. With mountains in the background, and very expansive skies, it is quite striking. Matt and Jezebel live on the Rio Grande river in a very interesting contemporary home built by an architect. Since Jezebel is an artist and has a gallery, the home is simply furnished with plants and art. And now, toys and baby equipment. Everywhere. Their daughters are 15 months apart. Jenievieve is 19 months, very sweet and soft spoken. I am very struck by how much she resembles Sammy as a baby. Anastasia is a very sweet baby also, and they are very lucky. We all went to dinner at a very upscale restaurant and fortunately had a private room, but nonetheless, the kids were wonderful. Ana needed some bouncing and fussing over because she is the opposite of her sister - she bellows! We visited Jezebels gallery in Madrid (where part of the movie "Wild Hogs" was filmed) and if you want to step back in time to the hippy dippy days of the 60's - this is the place. I love the town and Jezebel's gallery is just beautiful with her lighting. We also visited Matt's office. How about having your own ping pong table and exercise equipment? We enjoyed spending time and catching up, because we don't get to see them as often as we would like.

Homeland Security - Big Brother

I am so angry right now I can not stop vibrating internally. Something snapped today and I think as Americans, we need to stop our complacent attitudes and start looking carefully at how our rights are being infringed upon.

I fly frequently because I have family scattered all over the country. The benefits of that are airline elite status, upgrades and many comforts that average people don't always get. But, like all people, I have to go through this insane airport screening. First, we allowed ourselves to be checked for metals and our bags scanned. Sometimes our bags were searched. I have had items removed (children's rounded edged scissors, nail clippers). Solution - check your bags. OK, so now we have to pay to check bags. Then we had limits on liquids. How many people have lost items from that? A $10 bottle of special shampoo here, a medication there - expense has been enormous if you look at an entire population. The number of TSA agents has increased. Who pays their salaries? Slowly and insidiously we are being more and more controlled by a government that has created a fear factor. Does it make sense that on board, I can get a can of Diet Coke and break it in half and create a weapon but I cannot carry on my toenail clippers? Consider the number of flights daily in the world and how many of those are compromised by terrorists?

Scan my bags, OK. Scan me for metals, OK. I won't like it but I will tolerate it. But this new body scan that makes you raise your hands above your head while they see you under your clothes is not OK. But today was the final straw, for some reason I was selected to be "patted down." So the female TSA officer comes over and tells me she has to touch my breasts but just with the back of her hands. Standing out in front of the entire airport. I said no. That was not OK with me. That is an invasion of my privacy as a citizen. So she said she would have to call her supervisor who came over and announced loudly "well, that is all right, she just won't make her flight today." By then I was ballistic. So they called security who told me if I didn't cooperate he would send me on the bus out of the airport! I asked him if he wouldn't care if someone wanted to pat his wife down in public and touch her breasts. He gave me more lip. I told the TSA person to take me into a private room and they did their pat down. What for?? My dangerous under wire bra which I am going to turn into a mechanism to pick the lock of the door into the cockpit?

If you know me, then you know that I am slow to blow but this just turned me into a real bitch. I couldn't even believe how I lipped off. I mean, I could have been back in college yelling in a Vietnam war protest at the "pigs." I have just had it with the treatment of humans as cattle in airport security. I am frightened by the invasion of our privacy by Homeland Security. We need to reclaim our country, our privacy and our dignity. I still had to go through the "procedures" but I sure didn't do it without a public display of my opinions and I am not embarrassed, but proud. I have names and badge numbers and believe me, I will write my letters.

Banana Bay Break-in

After writing my blog about fathers, I tossed and turned trying to get to sleep. How can one adequately describe someone in a few paragraphs. I kept thinking of things I should have added. My memories were flowing and my brain was on hyper drive. I was a little low, missing my folks. But, when I arrived to work at the Sea Dell this morning, I found this flyer taped to the front desk and my spirits were lifted. Perhaps you have to live here to know how annoying iguanas are to appreciate this. People hate them! They poop on your boat or in your pool and they eat every plant they encounter. They are perhaps the ugliest and scariest looking creature on earth. And, despite their shortcomings, someone loved two of them enough to post a $2000 reward. In fact, the owners have been on a search and rescue mission and even came by today to see if our 20 year old employee, Laz, might have the underground scoop on the crime because he is young and connected to the local youth scene. I called Laz and he said he was adding PI work to his resume and he was out on the case already. For $2000, I may go scouting the neighborhood. But why would someone take them?? In Central and South American countries, as I have mentioned before, they are a tasty dinner treat. Maybe I need to reconsider vegetarianism because I don't like the idea of eating pets. I knew the movie "Babe" had more significance than just a cute story about talking pigs. The iguana owners are really sick at heart about this.

Much of owning a motel is not glamorous. Loads and loads of stranger's laundry, maintenance problems, settling staff issues (like posting bail), paper work and more paperwork including the ridiculous governmental crap (inspections, permits, permits to have inspections...) But, the joy is in the guests. A couple weeks ago we had a guest who was speaking locally about his bike ride from Key West to Peru and he was beginning his new journey from Key West to New England to Seattle, to Southern California and back to Key West. His day job? A stand up comedian.

And how about the woman from Utah who looked like your average natural, no make-up, healthy middle age woman who just didn't believe in shaving. I mean her armpits looked like they housed squirrel tails. I had a hard time not joking "we are not a pet friendly motel." I wondered what was under the long pants she had on. I didn't wonder too long because it sort of freaked me out. I thought feminism took a bit of a turn from that au-naturel scene back in the 70's. In fact, the counter scene is the stupidly enhanced look that some young women are now adopting in the breast department. I have seen women who look like they have grapefruit halves glued to their chests. Perfectly round, top and bottom. South Miami is known for giving plastic surgery as a graduation gift. I know, I know, I should be more accepting. I am. But, I am also prone to being amused by people and there quirks and oddities. I have the perfect perch from behind the Sea Dell desk to observe. And I have my blog to comment. And if you don't like what I say, you don't have to read!