4 posts tagged “qotd”
What was your very first job? Before I tell you that story, I have to tell you this one: When I was a freshman in high school, I was a bit of a slacker and ended up failing. I went to summer school to make up the grades, but my folks wanted me to be in a better learning environment so they sent me away to boarding school. Since I'm the last of seven kids I think they just needed the break and sent me away so they could relax a little bit.
Anyway, they sent me to this boarding school. An all boys boarding school. An all boys boarding school Catholic seminary. An all boys boarding school Catholic seminary in the middle of freakin' nowhere Ohio. Now before you all start up about pervert priests I'm sorry to disappoint but there weren't any. In fact the only inappropriate thing that ever happened there was one of the male teachers was messing around with one of the students but that was after I graduated and an entirely different story.
So where was I? Oh yea, my particularly sheltered life getting a respectable college prep education at an all boys boarding school Catholic seminary in the middle of freakin' nowhere Ohio. Since this was a boarding school and in the middle of freakin' nowhere I couldn't get a job. In the summers my parents were so consumed with guilt for "sending me away for my own good" they paid me a handsome allowance so I didn't need to find work to get any pocket money. Once I graduated and lazed around for a month or so I started looking for my first job and boy was it a great one. A restaurant had just opened up about a half mile or so from my house (no car or license so walking distance was perfect) and they needed bussers so I applied. I met Grace and Phil Chen and managed to impress upon them I knew how to fill glasses and clear plates (last of seven kids so I had lots of table clearing practice) so they hired me. At this point I had no idea what kind of a place this was until Phil took me into the dining room and started showing me around. I was in heaven. It was JoAnn's Chili Bordello where they "Served 16 kinds of chili in an atmosphere of sin." I kid you not.
So here I am, fresh out of the seminary and I'm working with waitresses dressed in corsets and stockings.
I had never been happier. All my friends admired me, my parents thought it was pretty funny (although they never ate there), and I was surrounded by twenty of the hottest women I had ever seen. Because of my sheltered past they took me under their wing and taught me more about women that I could have picked up in 100 public high schools (notice I said women, not sex. I'm not that kind of boy). Some of my favorite times were when we'd go out after work and they'd sweet talk the bouncers into letting me in and then there I was, surrounded by women who would buy me drinks and mob me on the dance floor. The other guys in the club would just stare at us and wish they were me. :-)
![]()
What are some of your favorite, forgotten albums that have stood the test of time? Here they are in order:
- David Bowie "Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars"
- Heaven 17 "The Luxury Gap"
- Shreikback "Oil and Gold"
I'm in a meeting right now so I'll have to add more later.
What's the best way to spend a rainy day? Since 40 year old me is going to give the same old "reading, watching a movie, cuddling with my sweetie/pillow/animal" I'd rather have 10 year old me answer:
Out in the rain playing. Growing up in Ohio makes rain and storms something of a treat (for me anyway). You not only get used to them but you actually look forward to them. I love rain and I'm not talking about some sissy April shower. I mean real rain, a thunderstorm. Buckets and buckets of rain and with it thunder so loud it rattles the windows, lightning so close and bright it makes you blind for a moment. You know a storms coming by the smell in the air, the change of the wind, the darkness of the sky. You can tell when a storm's going to be a good one by the sound of the drops when it starts. Lots and lots of huge drops that go "splat" when they hit the concrete steps of my porch or "thump" on the windshield of a car. When it really kicks in I'm on my porch watching the two huge maples in the front yard sway and shake in the wind. I can't believe how cool it looks when the drops are blown into sheets and for just a second I can see what wind looks like. The wind swirls and drives a cold spray into my face and I'm in heaven. The gutters are overflowing and the street is turning into a torrent as the strip of asphalt gets narrower and narrower and then totally covered by a sheet of moving, living water. At that point it's like some secret signal has been sent out and my neighbors, my sibling and I race into the street to play in the rushing, shin deep water. Sometimes it's as warm as a bath or freezing cold but it doesn't matter either way. All that water is ours for those precious minutes until it drains away.
Eventually the thunder fades, the wind dies, the water drains away. But we're left with a deep feeling of happiness? contentment? Maybe feeling we were a part of something brief and beautiful. We go back home to shed our soaked clothes, bathe to warm our clammy skin, and watch the sun set in that unearthly orange post-storm glow.
We're throwing Kid a birthday party at a great bowling alley tonight. It's one of those places with the black lights, loud music and automatic bumpers (which I sadly need). Enough people to fill three lanes will be there so it should be a great time. I'm going to wear an old bathrobe and insist everyone call me "Dude."
