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Partying like it's 1989. Hopefully not like it's 1939:P - Blather. Rants. Repeat.
A Møøse once bit my sister ...
Partying like it's 1989. Hopefully not like it's 1939:P
Spent essentially the whole workday in, to and from Rochester. Things were mostly okay once I got there, but it's the getting there that's less than half the fun.

I had an 11 a.m. dental appointment there. Yes, I've stuck with my dentist from over 30 years ago- the last among the three of us to still go there.  He's a friend and has a long history of both forgiving my bad habits (I've gotten better in recent years) and overcoming the ills of my first 25 years of complete neglect (the final six or so of which are on me). He does, however, occasionally make a bad hire: I didn't go back for over a year after he placed me with a particularly Nurse Ratchet-ish hygeniest, and when I got there 15 minutes late today, I got a dose of passive-aggressive from the receptionist: "Well, your appointment was for 11 but she can still see you." See? As in I can see the empty waiting room inside and the horrible rain outside that slowed down the trucks and made me late (along with my own clients before leaving)? No matter; the cleaning went fine, and Ron and I are embarking on a Plan to fix 30 years of gradual cosmetic decay on my front seven.

Before I got there, though, I made a bittersweet lunch date for a mile or so down the road toward our old house.


In recent years, I became friends with a couple who live near that onetime Rochester suburban neighborhood. They were my companions at the Springsteen concert last February, and at my first Red Wings game in ages last August. This invitation, though, was more pointed: a Jewish cemetery near Rochester, final resting place of Scott's grandfather, had been vandalized; and the local Jewish Community Center became one of many in recent weeks to receive a bomb threat.  He invited friends of all and no faiths to join him and there we were- two lifelong Jews, a lapsed Methodist and an agnostic-at-best- supporting love and tolerance in the face of the electoral empowerment of the exact opposites.

Two tables away, we had at least one, each, of a minister, a priest and a rabbi- and the supervisor of the Town of Brighton.  Apparently the bars don't open until later, so they couldn't walk into one:

Photo courtesy of Scott's rabbi; hashtag #Tunafishresistance.  Not only is that kosher, as Eleanor pointed out, it fits for Lent:)

We talked. We noshed. I offered sympathies, not only for the current political climate, but for the apparent imminent closing of my favorite Jewish deli in the whole universe. I felt blessed. For someone who's been in an indoor church once in over nine months, it's a nice feeling.


Before arriving for the nosh, I had enough time to detour through our old Brighton neighborhood. I had to stop at the house that was our home before and just after Emily was born.  When we found out she was coming, and then again after she arrived, we planted two young trees on the front lawn. We named them "Minnie" and "Max" after a song from an Ithaca folk singer we'd come to love.  A quarter century later, they're still there, and more beautiful (if barer) than ever:

Life grows on, given the slightest chance:)


The day ended with a successful court appearance. I'm now back home in Williamsville, and here for two straight days without courtus interruptus. Life still has good, and good will prevail.
3 comments or Leave a comment
symian From: symian Date: March 10th, 2017 12:40 am (UTC) (Link)
Nice to see you socializing. :) But sad about the closing of your favorite deli. It sucks when our favorite places, our favorite restaurants or event places, shut their doors. I often wonder why it is the next generations don't want do stay in those businesses. They want more, or easier, I guess. Or, maybe the just want different.
greenquotebook From: greenquotebook Date: March 10th, 2017 09:20 pm (UTC) (Link)
We did something similar in our yard when I moved down to SC. We planted a silver maple, just like the one that grew outside my childhood home in NYC, just beyond the deck. It's gorgeous and provides lovely shade during the summer.
captainsblog From: captainsblog Date: March 11th, 2017 01:12 am (UTC) (Link)
Whoever buys our current house, probably after we're both in pine boxes, I hope will appreciate the history of the trees. Much of our region's foliage was destroyed by a freak October 2006 storm- but not the sapling in our back yard. He (we named him "Dave" after the Late Night host) was too small to topple in the winds and snowpile. He literally filled a need- Eleanor took down a backyard clothesline, and I dug up the cement pit anchoring it to the far end, leaving a hole in the ground, so I picked a sapling pin oak to put in the hole. Dave came home in the trunk of our then Chevy Corsica. He's now the biggest tree on the block.

Edited at 2017-03-11 01:12 am (UTC)
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