Thursday, February 26, 2009

Parking in 'Paradise'




The pictures above are quintessential 'Amishland.' The rolling farmland fading into distant forested hills, warnings of buggies, and the occasional covered bridge. No doubt, the countryside is beautiful.
I joke often on the job about parking the work van. I have learned to avoid pulling into people's driveways and joke if I pull in front of a house with a three-car garage you can bet money that I am going to park in front of the garage bay that someone wants out of.
There was one time when I pulled into a driveway of a farmhouse that had a detached four car garage. I thought, 'you are NOT going to get me this time,' and pulled off to the one side making sure not to block any access to any of the bays. I went to the house and proceeded to do my job. About 40 minutes into the job a woman approached me and asked if I could move my van. I laughed and told her I had made every attempt to NOT block anyone. She explained that there was a driveway I couldn't see that ran behind the garage and someone was back behind there. lol
Yesterday I was doing 'line-maintenance.' This involves taking Signal level measurements and adjusting some things in those strange metal boxes you may see hanging from a 'telephone' pole. One of the locations was at a pole in the middle of a now-barren corn field. I had to park the van along a rural road and carry the ladder 150 yds or so to get to the pole.
I was up on the ladder at the pole monitoring the signal when I noticed a guy walking across the field. It was the farmer. I climbed down the ladder and walked towards him as it was obvious he was coming to talk to me. I had also dropped my wrench and needed to find it. As he approached I joked, 'You coming out here to help me find the wrench I dropped?' He laughed and said, 'No, sorry, I came out to ask you if you can move your van.' Unbelievable. I was along a rural road in the middle of nowhere.
His tractor was pulling a 'manure-spreader' and even though I was pulled off to the side of the road as much as I could be; he couldn't make the turn he needed to. I laughed and moved the van. Another spin on the 'three-bay-garage' rule; sometimes you just can't win.
Hope you all had a good day.





Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Amish Avocados


If it is Tuesday in my local area of Amishland it is a 'Root's Day.'

What is known locally as 'RUTZ,' is a country farmers market. They are only open on Tuesdays. There are other local daily markets; each with their own flavor, my favorite and the one most local to my home is Root's.
In the picture above you see older Amish women who work at a stand selling fried fish sandwiches. The fried fish is served on two slices of white untoasted bread. I took a picture; I don't 'shop' there. wink

Root's Country Market & Auction Inc.

I went there yesterday to do my usual shopping there. I got a sub sandwich from one stand, egg rolls from another, greek food from another. They do have all kinds of 'stuff' there; because it is so local to me I go there for the food.

Yesterday, I decided to wander a bit through the various stands. I noticed an Amish vegetable stand that was selling avocados 3 for $1. I know that they often sell in local grocery stores for $1.89/piece. I smiled and told the Amish woman I wanted six avocados...a good recipe for guacomole, too. She didn't seem to get that. I thought I was getting a 'deal.'

I left the farmer's market with all my goods and knew if I wanted to make guacomole I would have to stop at grocery store for lime juice, et. al., to make the guacomole.

As I walked through the produce section of the market I saw some avocados.
I looked up at the price-board to see the price. They were imported from Mexico. 10/$1. I was aghast.

The Amish people shopped at the local market. They bought them for a dime.
Sold them for thirty-three cents.

Maybe they aren't so 'backwards' after all....

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Thinking out loud

My company has engaged in the practice of hiring sub-contractors to do a significant portion of the service installations. A significant portion of my job is going around and fixing things those things that they 'screwed up.' Over the past couple days I have had a few calls where the work order comments specifically have read 'do NOT send a contractor.' This is a 'flag' to me that the customer had a less-than-pleasant experience with whoever they sent out there before. I am always curious; and ask what happened.

Yesterday afternoon I showed up at one of these 'badly-contractored' homes. The house was a common Cape Cod on a quiet residential street. When I walked in I thought, 'wow....how cool.' They had done a great job of remodeling inside and it was very nicely decorated. I mentioned to the guy that I hoped it was not out-of-place for me to mention how cool his house was. He said, 'No, a lot of hard work went into it that I did all by myself.' He thanked me, too. He seemed like a cool guy.

I asked him what had happened when the contractor had come out to his house. He laughed lightly, smiled and said, 'Well, I guess the guy told my wife I was 'anal' because I asked that the job be done a certain way. He told me he asked the guy to wait until he got there (1/2 hour) and that he would help him do it the way he wanted. The guy told his wife he was 'anal,' did it his own way and left before the guy got home. I would say that is good reason to be pissed. Now I have to fix that, too.

I'd like to think I relate well with people and do my best to engage the people I meet on some level. I want them to be comfortable with me being in their homes; I want to talk and laugh with them, too. I guess my last entry provides evidence of that. I am paid by the hour. Contractors are paid by-the-job. I went through a multi-tiered hiring process; seems some of them were pulled off-the-street. I might think someone is being 'anal' but would never tell them. I would share it for the guys back at the shop; or if outrageous enough, put it up here. wink

This guy was cool. His house was very nice; I could see why it was so important to him to have it done the way he wanted. I apologized to him; told him even the Company makes some mistakes, ya know? I made sure everything was how he wanted and that it worked. I told stories with him; it was all good. He shook my hand when I left.

This morning I had another such call. It clearly stated in the work order comments do not send a contractor. In a sense, the same story as above. Nice home on a quiet residential cul-de-sac; a nice woman answered the door. I smiled and said, 'Good morning, ma'am, I'm here for the cable.' She smiled and invited me into the foyer as it was beginning to precipitate outside. I looked at her and said, 'Ma'am, I have to ask. What happened with the contractor.' She closed the door and her jaw almost dropped. She said it was 'horrible.' I said, 'What happened?'

This particular contractor went into the home they had just bought and when he saw the room where the one TV was to be he commented on how awful the room was; the decor. This as they were just moving in; guess he didn't think they might change it. Apparently another one that 'thinks out loud.' She went on to detail that he yelled at her about how the set was hooked up. She obviously felt very uncomfortable with him being in her home. She told me when they cancelled their digital service he showed up at the door to pick up the company's equipment. She told me when she recognized him she slammed the door on him after saying, 'wait, I'll go get it.' She did not want him in her home again. She was very happy to see by my workvan that I worked directly for the company.

I had a very nice time talking to her as she, too, was the product of a transient culture so unlike the culture here. She had lived in northern California near where my family had; we talked about Texas, too. I knew I liked her when I read the bumper sticker on her car that read, 'Life is to be LIVED.' I told her so when I went back into the house and joked with her I knew she wasn't 'from around here' as she had the furniture all moved out where I needed to work BEFORE I got there. We both laughed as she 'got it!'

Just like on Saturday, it was refreshing to meet some one of 'like-mind.' Usually, I only find them in the city.

Hope you all had a good day, too.

Spring is still on the way.



Saturday, February 14, 2009

With a cat named Molson....




One of the perks of my job everyday is meeting new people and hearing their stories. Whenever I pull up in front of 'your' house I want you to be comfortable with me being in your home. I always look for and like when I can 'connect' with the people as I go about doing my job. I do it everyday so in a sense, I guess, I might be more comfortable with it than 'you' are.


Yesterday I met a great couple that had recently moved here from Long Island. Their son works for a cable company up there so they were well informed and well prepared. Very nice people; I enjoyed them very much.


Despite the fact that this is Saturday; I had to work today, too. Saturday's are often 'lightly-scheduled' in case 'troubles' arise. The pace on Saturdays is often slower than M-F. When I pulled off the lot this morning at 7:30 I had five scheduled jobs. On Saturdays I work until 4 PM. I arrived at my job # 4 shortly after noon. The directions on the order were very clear. 'Look for barn and chicken house near bottom of hill.' I had no trouble finding it. I pulled in front of the garage and called the office to report my arrival on the phone.


As I waited for the office to respond a guy walked up from the barn and told me to go around to the front door. I nodded acknowledgement as I talked to the dispatcher on the cell phone. I walked to the front of the very nice farmhouse and the same guy answered the door.


I smiled and said, 'Sir, I'm here for the cable.' He extended his hand as he said, 'My name's John.' I shook his hand and said, 'Sir, my name is Chris; but you are still going to be 'sir' to me.' I explained that my father was a West Point graduate and an Air Force pilot so I was 'conditioned' to treat people that 'way.' He welcomed me in said, 'Here's what we want to do,' as he led me upstairs to his in-home office.


I asked what I needed to, surveyed the job and saw it would be relatively simple. We were talking casually and within minutes realized we had a common shared experience. We were both born/raised in transient military families. He was born in Germany. I was born in Idaho. I could tell before he offered me something to drink that he wasn't 'from around here.'


When I first got out of my work van there was a large rooster nearby; watching me. I was not afraid just laughed at the thought of my recent neighborhood one. He left me alone as I passed. I noticed a bowl of 'rooster feed' and a water bowl on the deck I crossed to get to the front door. During our conversation I looked at John and asked, in effect...'What's up with the rooster?'


He laughed and said, 'You mean Phil?'


I smiled and looked at him and asked, 'You named the Rooster?'


He said, 'Yeah, that's Phil.' John leases the chicken house to a local farmer. The trucks came one day and took all the chickens. Phil got left behind. Phil is one LUCKY bird. Bowl of feed, water bowl, a beautiful deck, pastures...I suppose even lots of chicken nearby....wink. He's got it made and funny as I think he knows it.


John's wife Lisa showed up soon after I got there. She heard me talking about Alexandria, Virginia where we had all lived. She was born in Canada. I loved hearing her slight accent. We all traded stories about moving to a 'sedentary' place like this from places more 'transient.' John had gone on from being a military child to become an Army officer himself. His lifetime 32 moves makes all of mine seem trivial. Lisa was born in Montreal and her family now lives in Ottawa. She and I talked about those places, too. In this local culture was very nice to meet 'like-minded' people. Lisa mentioned the old TV show 'Green Acres.' wink


I walked out to my van when it was time to go and saw John, a neighbor, their daughter and some of her friends watching something as their aging dog Coma barked. I walked around to the side of my van and Phil was playing with Coma. Coma is a big dog; they were both obviously having fun.


See the picture above.


Everyday on my job really is a new adventure and sometimes I really do get lucky. My thanks to John and Lisa for their hospitality. One of those service calls that I won't soon forget. A rooster named Phil and a cat named Molson.


How cool is that?


Hope you all had a good day, too.


Take care and have a good night, too.






Thursday, February 12, 2009

Another Bright Beautiful Day...





Sunday morning was another bright beautiful day in New York City. We went for breakfast at the local corner diner. I never said this to them; never really thought of it before, but it's kind of like 'Seinfeld.' I'll have to bring that up with them. wink

We were headed from the diner to the Upper West Side. We shopped at a flea market 'NYC-style.' It's not like the stuff they sell at them here. After the market we headed east towards Central Park.

It was a bright day in the park. The week before had been bitterly cold. You could feel the 'Spring fever' in the air as we walked along one of the lakes and over to the Bethesda fountain. The feel was palpable as it felt so good to be comfortably outside in the sunshine. Central Park really is a special place. Steve mentioned as we walked, 'Ya know, whoever thought about having this park really had the right idea.'

Jeff wanted to buy some art from a familiar vendor in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art so we walked across the park to 5th Avenue. No doubt, a great day for a walk through the park in the city.

It was about 1PM when we headed back to the west side and down to 49th St. We took the bus. We were headed to late brunch at the Delta Grill. It's a Cajun restaurant and bar. It's very cool. If you like Cajun food, you'll like it. They serve Abita beer there; Sierra Nevada, too. It was great. We walked back to the apartment; chilled for a bit and then moved on through the city on our way to dinner. We didn't know where we would have dinner but knew there would be something.

We went down to walk through the West Village. Very cool, quaint area. Small town feel; old angled cobble-stone streets. In all my recent visits to the city we had never gone down there before. It was very much fun to explore.

We had a VERY nice dinner in a trendy restaurant in the Meat Packing District. Jeff was on 'celebrity look-out.' We then continued our walking tour of that area; walked through the Chelsea Market. It was all very cool. Different neighborhood; different feel for the city. Part of the draw of NYC; I suppose, you take an underground train and pop up in a different world. I love it.

After a nice 'Spring-feel' Sunday evening walk through we took a cab back to the midtown apartment for a quiet evening at 'home.' It turned out the evening was anything but 'quiet;' as Steve entertained the cats with a new 'toy,' sorry to say I can't say a whole lot about that. wink

I hope everyone's well.

Monday, February 9, 2009

'Miracle' on the Hudson




Some weeks ago in the news the story of the jetliner crashing into the Hudson was 'Headline News.' It is an amazing story. The governor of New York, David Patterson, is famously quoted as referring to the event as, 'the Miracle on the Hudson.' As the son of an Air Force pilot I can appreciate the story on many levels.

I mentioned in my last post the promise of a 'Spring-feel' weekend and alluded to the need to get away. Somehow I ended up along the Hudson; two blocks south of the initial 'splash-down' point of flight 1549.


It was a 'Spring-feel' weekend in the city. 'Miraculous,' the confluence of some 'free spirits,' for sure. I really got 'connected' to these people from a casual online chat back in '01. I was very lucky that day, indeed. Now, it's all very good. I love these people.

My friend Jeff popped into an online chatroom where I sat alone and said, 'Hello.' I checked and he had no profile. I responded, 'Why no profile?' Without saying anything he disappeared from the room. He reappeared some twenty minutes later; WITH A PROFILE. I thanked him for 'giving me something to work with' and we began chatting. The rest is history; I am sure I will share more of that later.

This weekend found me at friends Steve and Nancy's apartment in Manhattan. Jeff had flown in from Michigan. Always good to see them all; even better when we are all together. It's always ironic to me as I live in the country; but seeing all of them in the city is a breath of fresh air. There definitely was a spring-like feel in the city; people were out-and-about after a brutally cold snap. As always, it was great!

I jumped on the train here in PA just before 9 AM on Saturday morning; arrived at Penn Station in Manhattan just before noon. I took a cab up to 46th Street and the doorman let me in. I dropped my stuff off in their apartment, we talked for a bit and then went out-and-about the city.

There was a bit of a sigh in the room when I mentioned that I wanted to go to the Hard Rock Cafe to get a gift for a friend. The Hard Rock in New York is now located right on Times Square. I am very-spoiled to be able to say, 'been there/done that' and agree it's an area to be avoided. Much too commercial, always many too many people, even for the city.

Funny as I suppose Jeff, Steve, and Nancy decided intuitively and collectively to get the 'worst over with first.' So we walked to Times Square around 2PM and it really wasn't that bad. I grabbed my gifts at the Hard Rock and we jumped on the subway to Shuttle over to Grand Central. Jeff had a 'mission' there.

On one of the concourses of the Grand Central Terminal the Metropolitan Transit Authority maintains the 'New York Transit Museum.' They sell all kinds of cool stuff there. www.mta.info/museum

Jeff got what he wanted; and I got a 'C.' smile

We then headed for lunch in the great food court they have there. Our favorite place is Junior's Deli; I had the classic Pastrami/Swiss on rye. Piled high with the juicy meat; half of the sandwich made it here to Amishland. I will re-enjoy it later this evening, for sure.

After lunch I wanted to go outside and take pictures of the facade, the Chrysler building, et. al. Jeff and Nancy waited at a corner of a promenade as Steve was with his newspaper; indisposed somewhere.

When I went back and met Jeff and Nancy; Jeff asked me to walk over to the opposite corner of the intersection of the promenades and 'talk into the corner.' I was like, 'huh?' He said go over there, face the wall and just say something. I followed his instructions. I said, 'Hello?' OMG I could hear him clearly from the opposite corner of the intersection despite all the backround noise. It was great! I was laughing. I suppose one of those little-known factoids that is fun to know. No doubt, I will ALWAYS remember that spot in Grand Central.

We headed back to the apartment and chilled. We had a great Italian meal nearby later in the evening; a nice quiet evening in the city apartment to end the night. There was defenitely a spring-like feel in the air. It was definitely a 'Spring-feel' weekend. More about it later.

Hope you all had one, too.






Friday, February 6, 2009

Freakish Weather Deja vu

Despite the God-awful heat and humidity here in the Summer the weather here in Amishland is usually not that extreme. It get's cold in the winter; but much colder other places. It does get hot here in the summer; but there's often brief respites. This past week was one of extremes and some 'freakish' local weather.

I woke up on Wednesday morning and noticed there was some dusting of snow on the car. After showering I went downstairs and turned on the TV. The weatherman was on. He announced that the area had anywhere from a trace to a surprise foot of snow overnight. I thought, wow, wonder where they got a foot fo snow? He went on, 'that occured in ******, a town in my work area. Barely ten miles from my home. WTF?

He went on to explain that is was an unusual 'convective cell' that just hung in one place for a while much like a thunderstorm in the summer. Very strange as two local school districts cancelled classes for the day; everywhere else was fine. On the morning drive over to check on my mom I noticed the snow just seemed to get deeper and deeper. Mom lives about three miles from me in that direction.

Yesterday there was an article in the local paper about the strange storm. A meteorologist from a local university was quoted in the article as saying in his opinion was one of the five 'all-time' weather events to ever hit this county. He went on to list the other four. This 'freakish winter storm,' Hurricane Agnes in 1972, the blizzard of 96, some other blizzard, and the Millersville Tornado of 89.

Guess what? I'm the one that took the picture that was carried nationally by the Associated Press of the 'Millersville Tornado of '89.' I noted who wrote the article for the paper.

Guess what? I hooked a box up for him one time in his home as his Cable guy. Is this town too small or what?

Earlier this evening I looked to see if the newspaper writer's number was in the phone book. I knew where he lived, ya know? It was. I called him and asked him how to contact the meteorologist as I would be happy to share a copy of the picture of that storm with him. He took my number; told me he would contact him. He told me he didn't have his number at home, it was at work and he wouldn't be there again until Monday. I told him okay, thanked him for his help and said good-night.

Not five minutes later my phone rang. I could tell from the caller-ID it was the newspaper man calling back. I answered the phone with a quick, 'hello.' He began, 'I just got a call from a guy who claims to have taken a picture of the tornado of '89...I didn't get a chance to check it all out at the office...' Then I stopped him. I knew he thought he was talking to the meteorologist.

I said, 'Sir, this is Chris. The one you just talked to one the phone. The photo was carried nationally by the Associated Press. I am sure your records at the office will confirm this and I will confirm for you that what I am telling you is true. I just want to share the picture with the guy if he wants it.'

He laughed and apologized. He had the meteorologist's number at home. It is unlisted and he had the two of them together and called the wrong one.

How funny is that?

It was a brutally cold week here in the northeast but looks like Spring-feel weekend.

I just might have to go somewhere.

Hope you all have a good Spring-feel weekend, too.

'night

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

PA Dutch Country Driver's Guide

I live 15 miles from my work office. It is a twenty mile drive almost evenly split between secondary roads and the freeway. It usually takes me 30-35 minutes. If you have never driven here before it is like driving in another world.

This post constitutes my warning for those who have never driven here.

If driving here from somewhere else you will soon notice that the typically respected rules-of-the-road seem to have been suspended. Any hint of courtesy is non-existent. It seems some laws are enforced; others are not. That’s how I read the PA Driver Handbook, anyway. It’s funny to me, too, as this is the only place I know where you get attitude when driving, what to me is, THE WAY YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO. My driving habits were greatly influenced by years of living in California during those ‘formative years.’ I was taught things like, ‘Never impede the flow-of-traffic; it’s rude.’

The most common annoyances for me are first, the ‘left-lane cruisers.’ These are the people that sit in the left lane of a four lane divided highway when they are not passing anyone. They have signs on the infamous PA Turnpike that read, ‘Stay Right/Pass Left.’ People cruise right by in the left lane when there could be no one in the right lane for miles. I really don’t get it.

My commute on the way home is notorious for this. Ten miles from where I enter the freeway there is a split with another freeway. I assume people think because they have to be in the left lane TEN MILES AWAY that it is okay to just cruise in the left lane. I drive the way I was taught; just as the sign reads. Stay right and only be in the left lane when passing someone or exiting.

Tonight’s commute offered excellent example of the driving ‘cultural conflicts.’ I was driving as I always do. Stay right, pass left. With turn signals used for any lane changes; we’ll save more on that for later. I pulled into the left lane ahead of some left-lane cruisers; passed the car on the right. I re-entered the right lane. I came upon another car that I wanted to pass but slowed and let the left-lane cruisers PASS. I put my turn signal on, got in the left lane and the local driver in the left lane slowed down. He drove adjacent to the car in the right lane; even let a gap open up so others could pass on the right. I admit after that I did ride his ass. He was obviously being a jerk. So funny to me how you can drive LIKE YOUR SUPPOSED TO here and people get ATTITUDE. I’ve lived here a long time and I will never ‘get it.’

I mentioned briefly above the use of turn signals. This is my second local driving annoyance. While driving in Lancaster County please understand one thing. It seems many of these people are little more than a generation away from a horse-and-buggy; it appears the turn signal nothing more than a modern convenience. Any thought of ‘courtesy’ is completely absent. I just watch in amazement as I spend a good deal of time driving everyday. One of the best bumper stickers I ever read said, ‘Use your turn signals….NOT TELEPATHY.’ Again, I just don’t get it.

Just a warning to potential visitors; don’t want to get anywhere very quickly.

I had friends visiting one time from Chicago. The wife was born-and-raised here; smart enough to get out, but her husband had never been here before. We set out-and-about on a day tour of the County. I explained to him where we were going as we set out on our tour. He asked, ‘How long until we get there?’ I thought and replied, ‘about half and hour.’ He said okay.

After our first stop we set out for our second. As we got in the car he asked again, ‘How long until we get there?’ I thought and replied, ‘about half an hour.’

We went to our second destination and headed for our third. The routine was the same and he looked at me and asked, ‘Is this the kind of place where everywhere is half-an-hour from everywhere else?’ I thought a moment and said, ‘YES!’ It’s an odd little place of communities separated by three to five miles of farmland. I live on the southwest corner of the ‘micropolis.’ In one direction all developed into the city; on the other all country and ‘preserved’ farmland across rolling hills.

The countryside is beautiful; despite the rude drivers the freeways do move close to the speed limit; just always expect some stall on the overwhelmed secondary roads.

Stay safe and watch out for the buggies. They can be pretty rude, too, but that’s a whole other blog post. Wink

Hope all’s well, everyone’s warm.

Take care, have fun.