Attitude Adjustment

Another dismal drippy dreary day as the month of May schlumps out the back door hopefully embarrassed at not having lived up to expectations once again.

Saturday’s skies showed promise so Linda and I put the Camaro’s top down, cranked up the heater and headed north to Volga to decorate my folks’ gravesite. While at the cemetery, the clouds rolled in blocking the sun revealing just how chilly it really was. When the wind came up, so did the car top and we headed toward the nearby Meadow Creek golf course bar for a beverage and to meet up with my brother and sister-in-law who’d been on similar duty in Toronto and Brandt. On what normally would be a banner day at the course, only a few hearty shivering souls were willing to tee off into the gale. Our cousin, Don and his wife Arlene, are about the only family we have left still living in Volga so we decided to barge in on them which was a lot of fun but, as is typical these days, much of the conversation centered around health issues we have and medications we’re on rather than parties, fast cars and the latest styles in swim suits.

After bidding Don and Arlene adieu, the four of us had nostalgic thoughts of pizza dancing in our heads. It was a close vote between two favorite spots in downtown Brookings; Pizza King and George’s. George’s won out but for some odd reason on a Saturday night, it was closed so we paraded across the street to my choice. I’ve written here before about my affinity for Pizza King which has been around since my youth. I’ve always appreciated how it’s sliced into little greasy squares rather than huge wedges. It’s a good pie. Trouble is, the wait is excruciatingly long. Of course the four of us don’t have any trouble making conversation but after a while, a very long while, our voices are drowned out by growling stomachs. Pizza after aromatic pizza passed under our noses all heading to other destinations; the delivery vehicle or someone else’s table in the rather small dining area. My curse was being seated near the baking ovens with a clear view of the cooks and the customers. It appeared to me after forty minutes or so that we were being ignored or had been forgotten. Linda, who is a good person, could see I was about to lodge a complaint and pleaded for patience; that I keep my trap shut noting how busy the place was and how none of us will starve. I held my salivating tongue until people who arrived after us were already on their second set of napkins. That’s when I semi-politely inquired as to where we might be in the serving rotation. A few minutes later, the pies appeared and, as it turns out for the first time in my life, weren’t worth the wait. At least that was my conclusion which wasn’t necessarily shared by others in the booth. Perhaps it’s just that I’ve had a bad taste in my mouth lately about lots of things..not the least of which is the fact that my favorite month took a dive, my latest diet is a joke, my boulevard, along with thousands of others around town ,is ruined because branches the city promised to pick-up two weeks ago are still there and still suffocating and rotting the grass below.

Linda, who as I say, is a good person, is pleading with me to be patient.
“The job is enormous,” she says. “They must be doing the best they can. Our turn will come.” “Yeah right,” I say. “Give me some of that FEMA money and I’ll buy a pick-up and haul the damn things away myself.”  “ You know,” she says, “you should be counting your blessings instead of bellyaching about pizza,  branches and big bellies. Frustration can only lead to an early grave.”

She’s right, of course and I suppose changes must come soon if I expect to continue being a Memorial Day viewer rather than the viewee.  If only the sun would come out. But then, I suppose it’ll be too hot…ghaaaaaaaaaa.

UPDATE: No sooner had I posted this blog than I heard a roar outside and a big black truck with “Disaster Relief” painted on the side, drive down our street and in front of the house. See it DOES pay to complain.

UPDATE TWO: Complaining theory further validated: The sky has cleared, temperature 70 degrees and light breeze.  Wait..what’s that? Now it’s snowing! Nope, I’m wrong.. cottonwood fluff.