I Am a Regular!

I recently read an article by Mark Alan Burger, entitled: The Lost Art of Being a Regular: Why You Should Become a Regular Fixture at Your Local Restaurant or Bar. Though, I’d lived in Phoenix for over 25 years, when I got divorced, my group of friends changed. No longer was I invited to couples’ events, Happy Hours, or weekend parties; I was hesitant to walk into a restaurant and say, “Table for one.”

About thirteen years ago, in the midst of July heat, I couldn’t bear the thought of cooking dinner or driving through a fast food joint for a greasy taco with tainted lettuce. Even though my youngest kid had warned me an eon ago to never go into El Mar, I was hungry, and I did. Not only was it not the biker, dive bar she’d described, but it was filled with folk who looked like me all enjoying a leisurely meal in a comfortable, yet festive atmosphere.

The food was good, the staff was excellent, and they offered Trivia Tuesdays. Within weeks, I became a regular. My neighbor and I formed a trivia team, and we became “fixtures” at El Mar! Just as Burger addresses in his article, there are advantages to being a regular:

  1. The owners and the staff not only know my name, but bring my beverage choice to the table before I sit down. We exchange meaningful conversation because we’ve shared our life details, i.e. our dogs, our kids, our vacations, and our occasional dirty jokes!
  2. I’ve met so many interesting people who live in my ‘hood that I would have never encountered elsewhere. Among them include: the head of maintenance at the apartment complex on the corner, an attorney at the State Attorney General’s office, two pediatricians, a talented ceramic artist, and numerous owners of diners and other small businesses. I know the lead singer/guitarist in a cool band, the head of supply chain management for a national sportswear company, a retired police officer, a retired Marine, and a veterinarian technician. All of them have enriched my experience, and some of them ended up as characters in my last novel: Justice for Jeremy.
  3. As a byproduct of engaging with all of these neighborhood folk, I learn a lot of neighborhood news–some gossip, but some valuable info.
  4. El Mar is a place of celebration, too, where we all join in to sing Happy Birthday or Country Roads when the USA soccer team wins.
  5. But what I like best about El Mar, its staff, and its customers is their spirit of community and their commitment to giving back–to the neighborhood public schools, to the animal shelters, to the women’s shelters, to the Christmas toy drives, to Veterans’ organizations, and to summer water drives for the unhoused.

As I reflect on my experience, indeed, it took guts to walk into El Mar alone. Yet, I’m so thankful I did. In this disconnect, insular world of texts, polarization over race and/or economic status, and downright abject hate, it is exhilarating for me to walk into an establishment, where everyone greets one another with a smile or a hug. Yes, I’m a “fixture”–something permanently attached to El Mar, and they will have to scrape me off the wall if they decide to: 8677!

Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Too

In the midst of everything gone awry both nationally and internationally, my blog today takes a new turn.  Do any of you recognize this former Youngstown, Ohio resident?

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His name is James Jonah Cummings, AKA Jim Cummings.  He was born in Youngstown in 1952,  attended St. Columbia Elementary and graduated from Ursuline High School in 1970.  Curiously, both my brother and I are trivia addicts–we collect random stuff in our minds.  Jim Cummings is the most recent.  He’s:

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True, he ‘s been the voice of Winnie since 1988 and the voice of Tigger since 1989.  Currently, in production, he will be Christopher Robin’s voice too!  Jim has a fascinating repertoire of voices.  He was the Darkwing Duck and the Tasmanian Devil.  His voice has also been used in  The Lion King, Aladdin, Shrek, All Dogs Go to Heaven, and a myriad of other films.

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There you have it.  Another great story from Youngstown, Ohio.  And a worthless piece of trivia to consider and to share with others.  But how cool is it to tell your kids and/or grand kids Winnie and Tigger are from Ytown?  Though AA Milne, author of Winnie the Pooh, was from England, a teller of taller tales could further suggest Mill Creek Park is, indeed, the hundred-acre wood! 

 

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Columbus Took A Chance Redux

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Six weeks ago, my blog was titled: Columbus Took a Chance, which concerned my venture to my ‘hood, dive bar.  Far outside my comfort zone, but I did it.  Many of you encouraged me to go back again for Tuesday Trivia Night.  Some of you were gracious enough to express your interest in forming a trivia team.

Finally, folks’ schedules matched, and this week we met as a team.  Cheap food, cheap drinks, and no entry fee.  Just fun.  Our team was comprised of Brittany’s father, Ken; Brittany, and her husband, Matt; my eldest, Annie; and me.  Three, thirty somethings and two, well-seasoned adults. Given the beach decor of the bar, Matt and Brittany chose our team name as “Wilson.”  I thought they were talking about Wilson sports equipment, but no.  It was some character from a beach movie.  Clueless Sue.

Thankfully, the disc jockey noted we were new to the game and explained in detail the rules.  Three prizes would be awarded: $25, $15, and $5 in bar money.  Since there were only four teams that night, we felt confident we would win a prize.  Matt commandeered our team, kept our score tally, and pronounced, “We’re in it to win it.”  OK, I thought.  Doubtful.  Whatever.

Unlike the first time I sat on the sidelines during Trivia Night and knew all the answers, I was a veritable, non-contributor.  Rap and Country Western music, current movies, and pro sports are not in my brain bank.  I was stunned by Ken’s absolute brilliance  when he knew the Dallas Cowboys were a $4.3 billion franchise.  Annie shone in Country Music, Brittany and Matt knew every movie, TV show, and Rap artist.  I just sat, rooted them on, and paid the tab.  The least I could do for my overt lack of knowledge.

The disc jockey totaled the scores, “And first place goes to Team Wilson!  Twenty-five dollars in bar money.”  WTF?

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Matt tossed the bar bucks at me.  “See, Sue.  I told you we’d win.  Brittany and I’ll see you next Tuesday.  Team Wilson will buy!”

This is NOT a dive bar.  It has immaculate restrooms, nice patrons, and an attentive wait staff.  Unfortunately, Annie can’t be there next week.  So if you’re a Country Western music expert, take a chance and join Team Wilson!  We’re buying….

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Columbus Took a Chance

 

Screen Shot 2013-10-11 at 9.22.15 AMThe mantra of my maternal grandmother, probably my clone.  She lived to be 99.5 years, had a great sense of humor, and was overtly willing to try most everything–even a second marriage at 80 years old.

Granted it’s taken far too many years to embrace my single status, but it was time for me to take risks, e.g. go to a movie alone, go to a restaurant alone, etc.  And so, it began.  I ventured to safe havens; I didn’t get my hair and face all made up.  I’d no desire to be some old man’s purse, nor nurse.

Then I decided to do something edgy–something outside my comfort zone–something quasi-dangerous.  I took a chance and obviously survived.  I stop short of saying it was a great or an exhilarating experience; it was fine.  And I DID IT!

I’ve lived in my ‘hood for over 26 years and was always curious about a nearby bar and grill.  It looked tacky from the outside–the kind where there with lots of cars parked in front at 8:00 AM.  Once I asked my savvy daughter about it, “Mom, it’s a dive bar where they serve underage kids.”  Hmm.  Wonder why she knew that.  On another occasion while standing in the grocery store line, I heard the gal in front of me say to the cashier, “Come over tonight.  Hot roast beef sandwich special.”  Hmm.  One of my favorites.

All this data was stored someplace in brain.  Would I retrieve it?  Would I venture into this elusive, dangerous place?  Again, another several years passed.  This week Phoenix was overwhelmed with sweltering heat.  I’d spent two weeks awaiting a cooktop replacement.  It was far too hot to turn on the oven, or to cook on the outdoor grill.  I was tired of microwaved food.  I was hungry, but it was taco night.  Damn, the last thing I needed was a spicy taco to ignite my hair.  I assessed my ‘hood options; none whose cuisine appealed.   Perhaps, I should go to the sketch bar.  Don’t clean yourself up; go as you are.  You’re not looking for the proverbial love in all the wrong places.  Suck it up and go.

As I drove the two miles,  I weighed my decision.  My inner voice echoed, “Sue, are you sure you want to do this?”  I struggled.  What would my kids say?

I walked into this supposed dive bar, which wasn’t dive at all.  Lord, I’ve been in worse.  Over 90% of the folk in there were my age, and fortunately, I didn’t see anyone I knew.  I ate my dinner, listened to the DJ, and silently played his trivia game.  Silently?  Yes, they had formed teams hours ago. Though I knew the answers, I wasn’t on a team. No need to be rude.

I smiled in my short trip back home.  I slew a dragon; I conquered my fear of the unknown; I survived.  I took a chance.

If there’s a next time, I will clean myself up and join a trivia team.