Where the Green Grass Grows

Where the Green Grass Grows

Probably the loveliest spot in the United States is in the area of the four counties north of Dayton, OH. Miami, Shelby, Auglaize, Mercer. It's an area of rich, fertile,verdant fields with wide vistas of land and sky separated by a clearly defined horizon and dotted here and there with tall farm structures such as silos and grain elevators.

I have written before about the high plains of the Texas panhandle which is similar but drier and much lonelier. Here the towns are not as far apart, the wind doesn't blow quite as hard, there are more trees and generally more people, just the right amount of people.

The area was originally settled by German farmers, some Catholic and some Protestant, and their characteristics are still noticeable in the behavior of their descendants. The farms, properties and towns are almost compulsively neat and orderly. No blade of grass is out of place and the boundaries are precisely clipped and delineated. Street crime is low to non existent though every once in a while there is a kidnapping or a spectacular murder. Most cars are parked with their keys in the ignition. The streets and roads are populated but uncrowded and the people are friendly and non-threatening. Everything is fresh and new looking like a real life version of Lake Woebegone.

It was an absolutely beautiful spring day when, while waiting to see a customer, I decided to eat my lunch out of doors. I came upon a large park with few people in it and several clusters of canopy covered picnic benches on stone slabs amidst the incredibly green grass. I stopped at a bench to eat and during my meal noticed several other lone picnickers enjoying the brilliant weather. Almost all the others were single women, who drove up, ate their lunches, took in some sun and left. I must have been a sight in my suit and tie and yarmulke but I enjoyed it so much, I repeated it the next day as well with the same type of company.

This idyllic situation doesn't come without some tribulations. I began my trip very early on a Sunday morning in order to spend it in Detroit with a close relative. In fact, I left my house at 4:00AM to catch a 6:00AM flight. The flight left on time and even though it was cloudy, we immediately rose above the clouds and had a pleasant journey until we reached the area of Lake St. Clair which is the eastern border of Detroit. I noticed that we began a holding pattern and also noticed that even though we were at 13,000 feet, way below us, about 10,000 feet below us, the earth was covered with cloud cover. This is unusual since cloud cover usually begins much further up in the sky, but this time it was clear until very close to the ground. We were informed that Detroit was completely fogged in but it would soon dissipate.

That didn't happen and we got the go ahead to divert to Toledo (only fifty miles south). Strangely, there was no cloud cover at all as we approached Toledo from the east and landed in sunny weather. Because Toledo is a small airport, it took a while to get refueled and even longer till we got the go ahead into Detroit. We took off and flew for about 16 minutes and then taxied into our gate at Detroit for another 16 minutes. Had I left the plane, I would have been able to drive to Detroit and would have arrived 2 hours earlier than i subsequently did, but didn't realize how long we would be delayed.

Flying from Cincinnati into Newark later that week, about half way into the trip we again began a pattern and this went on for about half an hour when we were informed that it would be another 40 minutes before we would get clearance to proceed to Newark and that we were getting low on fuel.I noticed that when we finally left the holding pattern, we flew northward which didn't bode well and indeed the pilot soon announced that we were being diverted to Albany.

I had learned my lesson and insisted that I deplane at Albany (only about 2 hours by car from my final destination that evening). Before leaving the plane, I remarked to the pilot that this was my second diversion this week.

He replied, " Really? My last diversion was two years ago"

Yertle the Judge

As the country is now faced with a situation of a nominee for the Supreme Court who isn't a judge, I would just like to share a story with you that sort of supports the notion that someone who isn't part of the judiciary might be more in touch with reality.

I went out to Hauppauge on a case. It was raining, the traffic was horrendous, and the bridge was a mess, so I went a different way. I figured I was OK, because the Court always has a second call at 10:30, and I didn't anticipate the other side showing up.

Well, I pulled in to the Court parking lot at 10:25, parked, and went inside. There was nothing going on at the time, so I approached the clerk and told her my case name. She looked it up and announced, " Case dismissed at 10:30, no appearance either side."

This is where I felt that I was in an alternative universe.

I looked at my watch, just to be sure. It is a minute fast and showed 10:28. Then I looked up at the clock on the wall DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF THE JUDGE, and it showed 10:27. I then looked back at my watch, because I needed a moment so I wouldn't shout at the judge " CAN'T YOU IDIOTS TELL TIME!?!?!?!"

The judge, then, in his most officious tone, stated " You can keep looking at your watch, counselor, it was dismissed at 10:30".

Now I was really at a loss for words, or more specifically, words that would not get me held in contempt and thrown in jail. So I just sort of stood there, thinking how I could delicately tell this judge that although the Courtroom is his kingdom, I don't think some district judge from Long Island can bend the rules of time.

Fortunately, the clerk, taking in my completely befuddled and bemused expression, decided that this could indeed be rectified by simply recalling the case, since the other side didn't show, and it STILL WASN'T 10:30. So she did.

However, when put on the automatic tape recorder, it did show a time of 10:33! So either the judge is a slave to a faulty piece of equipment, or he just thinks that he is some kind of god that can make any rule he wants in his courtroom, including suspending the laws of nature.

Although I might not agree with Kagan's policies, the idea that she isn't a judge really should not count against her, if only for the fact that she might not be AS out of touch with reality as even some low level judges become as soon as they get on the bench.

The Costco Factor

Dinner time, especially formal dinner time, has become an endless commercial for Costco and a source of annoyance to myself. Talk of this store has become like the gulf oil spill, nothing can shut it off.

An innocent question about the food being served is immediately answered in a paean to the company whose gas ruins your car engine. A chance comment about a dress or a skirt is immediately taken as an opportunity to sing the praises of the company that makes you pay for the privilege of selling something to you. A question about the salad sends the cook into paroxysms of praise for the company that is too cheap to give you a bag for your purchases. Is nothing unavailable there?

The last straw came as I heard my 3 year old granddaughter playing house. She pretended to go shopping. And where you may ask did she intend to shop? Why at Costco of course and she was going to buy strawberries and blueberries, etc.

So here's a panegyric to the business that women love and men hate. Maybe this will allow the women in my family to get this behind us.


I love to shop at Costco
It's my favorite store
Where, to weed out undesirables
There's a policeman at the door.

Not for them the usual practice
Of wanting to sell to all
They indulge the haughty conduct
Which goest before the fall

They reject the lowly Mastercard
Disdain the downscale Visa
Only Amex will pass muster
That's the card with the luster

I can buy almost anything
That I can eat or use or wear
From meat to fish to pantyhose
Or a sofa or a chair

Fruits out of season
Quantities beyond reason,
Peppers Red Orange and Yellow
Oh, it makes me so mellow

Pay not heed to the feeling
That the quantities are brash
I know I can use most of it
Before it sees the trash

And when I need to haul it home
It fazes me not a whit
That the berry containers burst
Since there is so much of it


I fear that reiteration
Is making me a bore
But I can't help repeating,
It's my favorite store

Mr who?

I am sitting at a dinner next to a good friend of mine, who is the author of some scathing remarks in my direction that have made their way onto this blog over the years.

Well, as I sat there, bored out of my mind and playing a game on my phone during some long winded thank you speech, he asked me if such activity was appropriate for a dinner.

I agreed that it wasn't, and decided that blogging is MUCH more acceptable.

So now what is there to talk about and comment upon at a dinner? I looked to the journal for some fodder, and boy, was I rewarded there! First of all, many of the ads include thanks to members of the organization, as well as personal "shout outs" to family members or friends of the sponsors. As I went through the pages, I saw ads from acquaintances, friends and even family members. Not a word about me.

So there I am feeling sorry for myself when I turn to the pages where they list members of the organization and various other officers. I see that the same good friend mentioned above, who has dedicated hours and hours of his time to become an active member of one of the committees is NOT LISTED!!!
Was it oversight, or a subliminal message??? Who knows, but I sure felt better.

Turn the other cheek, indeed!

Here is a disturbing article click here. For those of you who don't want to read it, let me summarize.

Some Islamic organization wants to build a community center which will encompass a mosque as well as other resources.

Incredibly, most of the people quoted in the article encourage the project. I can't believe the complacency, stupidity, cupidity, and laziness of these people. How can they be so positive about a religion who murdered over 3,000 innocent people in its name?

At least one person got it right. He is quoted as saying, "Lower Manhattan should be made into a shrine for the people who died there," and I might add, "not for the savages who murdered them."

When our nation becomes too lazy to even hate their enemies United States est perdita.