Friday Photo #23 

or sure...why not a bottle opener 

What's the first thing you think of when wielding a razor-sharp ratchet driver powerful enough to chop off a digit or two? Beer, of course. So, yeah... why not a bottle opener.

A Bittersweet Bon Voyage 

or how do you say farewell to a piece of your heart 

Yesterday we threw a retirement shindig for one of my dearest friends in the world, Suzette. She is perhaps the most universally beloved individual to have ever set up shop in our shop. Twenty some odd years ago she waltzed in the door and right into every one's heart, disarming their defense shields with her quick wit, sarcastic bent and bawdy 12-year-old boy humor. She's been my mentor in that category. She is also one of the kindest, most generous people I have ever had the pleasure to know.

Television is the third career in her long and varied history. She first was a grade school English teacher, then branched out into theater as a stage manager as well as actor before finally settling in as a television grunt. She worked at a competing local station until union negotiations fell through and everyone was locked out. 

An unlucky day for her...a very lucky day for us. 

Over the years she has become the collective mother to our entire department. She's the one who brings in food for all, keeps the general supplies--both biz and non-biz related--stocked and is the confidant of all. I tease her that she needs a shingle "The Doctor is In" or as Lucy Van Pelt would say "The Doctor is Way In". She has a sympathetic ear so there's always someone confessing their woes to her. That's one of the many things that makes her special. 

That, and her delightful off-color edge. 

Having been in theater for decades, she has a song or a dirty limerick for any and all occasions. Here are a couple of my favorite ditties:

Balls! said the Queen. And the King laughed because he had two.

I looked up his kilt and what did I see? 

I looked up his kilt and what did I see? 

I looked up his kilt and what did I see? 

Wang... Wang... Wang...

She offered her honor.

He honored her offer.

and all night long he was on her and off her.

Ha Ha Ha... aaaaaw... It makes me sad to realize I won't hear that every day.... *sniff*

She and I had our last official Sunday brunch blow out last weekend. 

Everything I know about whipping up a four-course breakfast using a microwave and toaster oven, I owe to her. She's like the MacGuyver of short-order cooking.

The bittersweet truth about her retiring is this. Suzette has been battling some pretty serious health issues over the last eight months. She's been in and out of the hospital three times. She needs to stop working full time and take care of herself so she can get stronger and back to her normal, irreverent self. Beets, Jude and I have been leading her--okay pushing her--towards this decision for a while. We know it's for the best and she's only five minutes away, but I'm still going to miss seeing her every day. 

Anywho, if there's one thing we know how to do well in Operations...it's throw a party. We surprised her with a fully decorated work space and chow up the yin yang. 

Loads of people stopped by to say goodbye and take photos. Them there boys do love her!

Of course you knew there had to be an irreverent one or two...

Todd, our buddy who jumped ship last year to work across the river showed up in a, wait for it... golf cart! Sonya, our morning anchor begged him to drive it. She was so excited. Afterwards Todd let her drive the cart, too. Hey-O!!

We all piled in and burned rubber around the plaza, terrorizing all mortals in our path. We did donuts around the fountain and tried to kidnap... I mean, pick up Heather, the Barista from our lobby coffee shop, but she wouldn't play our reindeer games. Go figure. Then we took a bunch of jump pictures. 

Yeah, so basically yesterday we got paid to graze continually, zoom around haphazardly in a pimped out golf cart and jump around like idiots. All in celebration of our one-and-only, Suzette. Isn't it great to inspire such frivolity. You see why we'll miss her.

 

So here's to you, Suzette. You and I have done some crazy things along the way, no. It has been a pleasure and a privilege to work alongside you all these years. Knowing you has enriched my existence beyond expression. You are my sassy sister, my irreverent friend, my constant confidant, my fellow 10-year-old, my cohort in crime and one of the few people who truly gets me. Your friendship fills my life with abundant joy and elan. Thank you for your positive presence in my life. You occupy a permanent place tucked away in my heart. I love you, man.

Holy Crap! And I'm not even drunk!?! I'm slipping...

So...what do you say? Lunch next week?

"It's The Fragrance of the Favorite Summer of Your Life..." 

or a Trifecta of happy events 

Okay, so yesterday evolved into a Trifecta of positive events in the form of appreciation, recreation and jubilation.

First, Geo received a resounding vote of confidence from his employer. In fact it was the most glowing review he has ever had. EVER. My better half has always had an outstanding work ethic. In fact he is the poster child of integrity and hard work. He is a team player with a capital T. Always the first to volunteer his assistance to anyone who is covered in the quagmire of a ridiculous rush job. And you know rush jobs are never satisfying...that's what she said.

He has been a huge asset to every employer for whom he's worked, and is FINALLY, after all these decades, getting the recognition and appreciation he has so richly deserved. I could not be happier for or prouder of him. Plus the accolades came wrapped in a purty green ribbon raise. Cha-CHING!!  

Second, we went to see the incomparable Francis Dunnery play a house concert, coincidentally in 

the home of our very first Francis house concert three years ago. Geo and I even recognized several folks from the last time. Pittsburgh was Mr. Dunnery's last stop of this particular tour and it was positively enchanting, as usual. The vibe in the room was a warm, welcoming hug rewarded by an extended song list and an extra hour of his time rubbing elbows with the devoted crowd. These intimate house concerts are such a special experience. They never fail to leave us uplifted. The title to this posting is my favorite line from one of Francis' songs "Give Up and Let it Go" which we were treated to towards the end of the evening. Geo and I absolutely LOVE this guy! I highly recommend attending one of his house concerts in the future. I guarantee you won't be disappointed. Here's a link to his website to keep tabs on his show dates. You may recall Francis was part two of our anniversary road trip this past February as chronicled in this prior posting here. Part one of that trip was, of course, my beloved blue-eyed one, Rhett. 

So the obsession concert score so far this year: Francis 2, Rhett 1 

Francis is going to have to step it up later this year since I'll be going to three Old 97's/Rhett concerts over eight days in July, BABY!!

The "Tri" part of the day's Trifecta was...THE PENS SWEPT THE SERIES AND ARE GOING TO THE STANLEY CUP!!!! That's right. Starting Saturday the Boys of Winter get a rematch of last year's heartbreaking defeat against the Detroit Red Wings. My money's on the Pens. They're older, wiser and hungry as Hell for their chance to drink from Lord Stanley's cup. 

After hearing past stories of victory celebrations...they might want to pour a little bleach in that bowl first. 

Murray and Geo's Excellent Weekend 

or there are no friends like old friends 

Okay, so Geo's always busting on me for being on the interweb too much...spending waaaay too much time with virtual folks rather than real people. 

He's right, of course. 

Twitter is like freaking crack. Seriously. Even when I tell myself I'm not logging on today, I end up succumbing to the lure of the beast and taking my place as a twalker (twitter stalker), peering into the lives of those more famous than I. Turns out only a handful of them are the least bit interesting or creative tweeters--Rhett, the king-of-all-my-things, being one. Rob Huebel and Paul Feig being two others. The rest are rather boring. I'm sure those misguided souls who follow me feel the same disappointment with my offerings. I have, however, had lovely "conversations" with a young woman from N. Dakota after connecting over, of all things, a mediocre CBS cartoon named Horseland where the collie sounds like Sean Connery... or at least Darryl Hammond portraying Sean Connery. Turns out she works for a CBS affiliate and also gets paid to watch cartoons. Small world. 

Every Sunday when I suffer through...er, I mean watch Horseland, I keep waiting for the collie to spout off something like "Just like your Mother last night, Trebek" from SNL:

That skit cracks me up every time.

Anywho, back to the topic at hand...

 I justify my time spent on Facebook by noting the folks on that social network actually ARE my friends. People I see at work or play. It's a quick way to keep up with the happenings of others so when I actually do call or visit, I have an idea what's been happening in their lives. 

But bottom line is nothing compares to flesh and blood contact with flesh and blood people. 

I'm happy to report Geo and I spent quality time over the holiday weekend in the company of actual friends. And it was good!! 

We began our social splurge with a sumptuous sushi dinner in the company a wonderful couple, Marco and Amy, whom we've known for over a decade. Over those years, we got together sporadically due to the normal time constraints of life and living. Two months ago, after dining at an Indian buffet, we vowed to convene on a more regular basis to dine on the varied cuisines offered in our city. They're one of the few couples in our friend barn who are adventurous eaters, so these culinary exploits should be big fun. 

Marco's a fabulous freelance writer. He's extremely skilled and witty. I keep telling him he should post his own blog. So far he hasn't bit, mainly because he's, you know, busy freelance writing. Amy's a notable supervisor in the monsterous machine that is health care. They have three kids, 19, 17 and 10. I can't tell you how refreshing it is to spend time with a couple who truly dig each other. Sure they love each other, but they also really, REALLY like each other. After three kids and decades of marriage, they still hold hands while walking down the street. It's so sweet.

Anyway, after copious rolls of sushi and lively, varied conversation we took our act on a stroll down E. Carson Street in search of an outdoor table for coffee and dessert. We found our refuge at a diner midway along the road where the chatting continued over coffee (them), cocktails (me-surprise!) and coconut cream pie. 

The evening could not have been more perfect--mid 70s, low humidity, steady breeze. As we sat kibitzing, above the din of traffic rose an unexpected musical rift from across the road. A young waif of a girl was playing an accordion. I immediately got the sensation of being at a cafe in Paris on a movie set. The music created a beautiful layer of atmosphere which capped off the evening perfectly. An evening very well spent.

The rest of the weekend was played out as such: 

A) A spontaneous gathering replete with Chinese take-out and victorious Penguins hockey; 

B) An evening split between my always entertaining family--with or without limoncello (written about here) and old college friends lobbing wit and witticisms on their deck on another gorgeous summer-like eve. 

C) And finally finishing off with a Memorial Day gathering in the company of our next door neighbor and her family who has pretty much adopted us as one of their own. 

And get this... they served homemade pulled BEEF! Okay, so it's not as salacious sounding as pulled pork, but hmmmm..mmm! It was mighty tasty!!

In between all the social events, we managed to open our deck for the season. The grill's up, the deck's ready, the mint is in...can the Mojitos be far behind? 

Computer? What computer? Let the summer festivities begin. 

Let's Go Pens!!! 

or how could anyone not love hockey? 

Seriously. How could anyone NOT love hockey, especially this time of year. My beloved Penguins are entrenched in round two of playoff hockey against the Hurricanes, battling for a berth in the Stanley Cup--which will be held sometime in ... oh 2020. Yeah, it's a loooong season. I go through withdrawal when it's over.

Regular season hockey is the fastest, most exhilarating sport around, but playoff hockey is just MENTAL!! The first series went back and forth with several nail-biting, overtime endings, finishing off with a game seven blow out by the Burgh Boys. 

Whew! 

Playoff hockey is intense, but overtime playoff hockey is OFF. THE. FREAKING. CHARTS!! I swear it will be the death of me. Aaaah, but a happy death it will be.

Tonight was game two. Pens Captain Cutie, Sid (sporting a sad little, chin hugging beard--at least it's thicker than last year's) scored early only to have Carolina counter with a goal. We scored again, and again within minutes the Hurricanes tied it up. Back and forth it went until the third period when Geno Malkin blindly shot the puck backwards at the net to score a hat trick and put the Pens ahead by two! 

The hats were flying, my friend!! The crowd was euphoric... Malkin's parents were beaming in the stands... Mr. Malkin celebrated by molesting the sweet young thing seated in front of him... 

Wait. What?

Yes. Mr. Malkin loves dis country. Indeed. Anywho, Kennedy (Tyler, not Ted) sealed the deal with a late-game empty netter. There were even some relatively decent hockey fights towards the end. And I do loves me a good hockey fight. 

All in all it was a fabulous night for the fans inside the arena, outside the arena watching on the Jumbo Tron and for us here at home. The boys play their hearts out for every game. They get knocked down, elbowed in the face, slammed into the boards with enough force to knock a few teeth loose and yet they come back for more. Whether they're bruised, bloody or broken...they come back for more.

Now who wouldn't love that? Let's go Pens!!

I Realize The Real Estate Market Is Slow, but... 

or a new angle to lure prospective home buyers? 

Okay, so I'm watching this local real estate show last Sunday morning and I swear to you the announcer said:

"...and French whores open to the patio."

Now either my ears are failing me or perhaps this particular selling agent has stumbled upon a sure-fire way to spark renewed interest in home buying. Can't you just hear it now. 

"This lovely three bedroom Victorian has undergone numerous improvements, including French whores opening to the patio. These ladies are finely appointed with multiple upgrades to take care of your many needs. Trannies are extra."

Either way it gives a whole new meaning to "playroom".

Back To Reality 

or my fun in the abundant sun is O-V-E-R!

*Sigh*

Okay, so I spent last week in oh-so-sunny Marco Island, Florida carousing with my fabulous card club gal pals. Usually we fly to Florida in February or March, which is a much needed break from the wretched wench that is winter, only to return to cold and snow reducing our Southern bronze to Northern pale face in a matter of days. Being we travelled to the land of sun and surf in the Spring the hope was we'd head home to the warm, hospitable PA sunshine affording us the opportunity to finally show off our tan gams. No such luck. And so it goes.

No matter. Vacation was absolutely GREAT! Loads of laughing, lounging and liquor. You know, the Holy Trinity of a girl-fest vacation. And let's not forget about the gobs of chocolate and garbage-bag sized portions of junk foods. Because, really, it ain't a girl-fest unless you've strapped on the feed bag of salty snacks. Hey, a girl's gotta eat something to absorb the liquor. Otherwise thangs can getz ugly.

The week started out with a rowdy birthday celebration at a Mexican restaurant, replete with copious amounts of margaritas and ended with a foolish day of less than adequate sunscreen resulting in yours truly resembling a very well cooked, RED lobster.  

But back to the initial fun..

We celebrated Duckie's birthday first by trashing...er, decorating the condo with streamers, hanging twirly thingies (technical name) and strings of photos depicting past shenanigans. 

She was pleasantly surprised. Di even made a Peep sunflower cake which was lovely en fuego. Okay, so Peeps have two uses... as cake decoration 

...and blowing up real good in the microwave.  

Come on. You knew we'd have to blow them up. It's too awesome!

We headed to a nearby festive piazza to continue our birthday festivities dining al fresco at a terrific Mexican restaurant. Being girls, we ordered pitchers of Margaritas and a variety of delectable appetizer chasers to share because that's how chicks role. 

Two pitchers in, the sun set quietly while the decibel level at our table rose exponentially. I mean it was loud. Seriously LOUD! So much so that our happiness actually made one couple move far away from us. I contend they were weak and needed to be thinned from the herd. Surprisingly, we were not asked to leave. In the midst of all the chaos, I managed to drunk-dial Geo, treating him to a slurry, detailed account of our antics concluding with an "I love you, Man" proclamation. Isn't he lucky.

Okay, so one of the many things we ordered to munch on that night was a basket of jalapeno poppers. We got this. It looked like a popper...golden fried crunchy outside, red(?) pepper with cream cheese inside and, what's this ...shrimp? That's right. Shrimp. In a jalapeno popper. A "Shropper", if you will. A bit startling when you aren't expecting it, but mighty tasty nonetheless. Of course, what isn't good deep-fried and slathered with melty cream cheese? Seriously.

Later in the week we returned to the piazza of the crime to partake of the Oh-So-Happy Hour,  two-for-one special at an adjacent bistro. Because honestly, the cocktail bell BOGO is just too compelling a vacation Siren's Song to ignore--no matter how embarrassing our behavior the prior visit. So, what started as a sunny, breezy evening full of promise...

turned into this

The deluge lasted just long enough to force us inside to dine...and order another round. Forty-five minutes of rain over nine days. I'll take it. (I don't know why, but this picture reminds me of the lovely time Geo and I spent in Florence, Italy. *sigh* Some day we shall return...)

All in all it was a fantastic week of walks on the beach, lounging pool side, late nights watching movies and playing games, binging and bonding and 11am cocktails. 

"She loves the Sunset. She loves the cocktail bell.." Indeed. Until next time.