July 6, 2016--Midcoast: Rona

The day after the 4th we got a late start and didn't get to the Bristol Diner until about 9:30. On the way over, we speculated about how busy it might be. Probably packed," I said. "What with people still visiting and some departing, I'll bet we'll have to wait for seats at the counter. Forget a booth."

"Maybe one of our friends will be there and we'll be able to squeeze in with them. But I predict," Rona said, Rona who hates to predict anything--even the outcome of the Kentucky Derby, said, "My guess is it won't be that busy. It's past the breakfast hour."

"During holidays breakfast hour can be any time, including 2:00 in the afternoon."

"That's true," Rona acknowledged.

It turned out to be packed and we had to wait 10 minutes for a booth. It would have been much longer because the new waitress was overwhelmed and to help move things along, including making space for us, Rona cleared the table and toweled it off.

We sat for at least another 10 minutes before the waitress could get us a couple of cups of coffee. And then 10 minutes more before she got around to taking our order. Also in an attempt to move things along we both ordered the same thing--Deb's terrific budget burrito. We took a pass on asking for anything exotic, like what Rona on the way over said she was in the mood for. If Deb had made potato pancakes, then Rona was interested in one with a poached egg on top. If not, sautéed spinach and mushrooms over a toasted English muffin. Rona has taken to ordering these so often that they're coming to be known as a Rona.

Deb was cooking. She is well-known for being able to juggle at least half a dozen orders simultaneously but this morning she too seemed backed up.

"Is everything OK?" Rona asked Deb.

"She's new," Deb said empathetically, "and is having trouble entering orders into the computer. The one that then sends the order to me so I know what to cook. That's what's slowing things down. Plus, we've had a very busy morning and probably could have used another girl. To help with the customers and to wash dishes. Look at that stack?"

Rona did and got right up off her seat and made her way to the sink. For the next two hours she cleared tables and washed dishes.

I sat alone with my burrito but happy to do so because with Rona's dishwashing and expediting everyone was getting their orders more or less on time and the vibe in the diner went from slight annoyance to a more-familiar happy buzz.

During those two hours something else happened--

We knew a few people who were there having breakfast and one or two noticed I was alone--which in itself is unusual--and that Rona seemed to be working for Deb. Yet more unusual.

At first, by this they were discombobulated but quickly figured out that Rona had not taken a dishwasher job--though doing so is one of her on-going fantasies--but rather had simply pitched in to help.

Then, as more and more customers poured in, some now having to line up to wait for a place at the counter or a booth, a number of people who were just two in a four-seater booth, shifted themselves to the counter and a few began to help buss tables. One or two running stacks of dirty dishes back to Rona at the sink in the kitchen.

It was as if the entire place, likely inspired by Rona's example, took responsibility to help Deb and her new hire get through the morning and make it easier for people to place orders and get seated without having to wait longer than absolutely necessary.

After her "shift," by 11:00 when breakfast was no long served and just before the lunch rush, Rona, all sweated up but exhilarated, emerged from the kitchen and said, "I think I'm done. Let's go to town to get the paper."

"That was terrific," I said, feeling good about Rona, "And I'm sure . . ."

Deb had also come out from the kitchen and finished my thought, "I can't tell you how much I appreciated that. We were at the tipping point. Actually past it, and you pulled us back."

"Thanks," Rona said, "To tell you the truth I've always wanted to do that. I really enjoyed it. And look what everyone else did--shifting to the counter to make room for larger groups, bussing tables, generally helping to clean up. That's what I love about this town. How people pitch in."

"I don't take it for granted," Deb said. "I really don't."

"One more thing," Rona said.

"Anything," Deb said and she meant it.

"What time do you want me tomorrow?"

"It's your lucky day," Deb said smiling, "We're closed on Wednesday. Enjoy your day off."

Deb

September 16, 2013--Win-Win-Win-Win-Win?

Even before sitting down John said, "What do you think about what's happening in Syria?"

"Let's get that out of the way," Rona said, "so we can turn to more pleasant subjects."

John slid into the booth and ordered Eggs Benedict. "I mean," he said, "Obama's a smart guy, right?" We nodded. "Not perfect. We support him, yes?" We continued to nod. "From our perspective he's made mistakes and is too quick to compromise, but about the big picture, especially anything that has to do with history, he generally gets it right. Wouldn't you agree?"

Yes," I said, "I agree. What's your point?" My eggs were getting cold.

"First he draws red lines, then he threatens to bomb Syria because they used poison gas, but then he asks Congress to authorize military action, and after that goes along with a proposal from Russia of all places to have Syria give up its weapons of mass destruction. I'm all confused." He looked over at me and shrugged.

"Here's what I think may be going on," I said. "For certain Obama is smart, very smart, and has a big picture view of the world, especially where civilization clash as well as where there is clashing within civilizations. No better example of both being the Middle East."

"I knew I could count on you to set this in context." From his tone I wondered if he was having a little fun with  me.

I was on a roll, fully caffeinated, and so undeterred I continued, "With Syria you have a situation where everyone, every interested party is backed into a corner.  Bashar al-Assad is facing a civil war that's two years old and going nowhere. Except that his country is largely destroyed and he is justifiably seen as a mass murderer of his own people. Now by using sarin poison gas.

"The remaining big powers--England, France, Russia, the U.S--are backed into corners of their own. Russia, really Vladimir Putin is Assad's chief backer, supplying him with weapons and protecting him from being sanctioned by the UN. In turn, everyone in the so-called civilized world is looking at Putin as  a new kind of Soviet-style dictator who is proceeding to snuff out all forms of dissent while attempting to contain his own internal Muslim extremists.

"Greater Syria--including Lebanon--for many years has been a part of France's anachronistic sphere of influence; and then southern Syria, including Israel and Palestine were governed in the same way by England. The Brits this time opted out of becoming involved and thus, according to Middle Eastern calculus lost standing; while France egged Obama on in an attempt to reassert their own influence in the region."

No one interrupted me so I rattled on, "The United States appears to be in the most compromised and contradictory position of all. John Kerry and Barack Obama draw red lines and threatened to attack Syria because of their use of sarin gas. They each trumpeted that, 'The United Staes doesn't do pinpricks'; and then almost instantly took back the threat so as not to alienate doves in Congress. Kerry, for example, assured his former colleagues and the world that whatever we do in Syria would be 'unbelievably small.'"

"And then there's Israel," Rona joined in, "They didn't know how to react, right, first deciding not to say anything about America's potential involvement but then feeling isolated when the U.S. seemed to back off. They began to wonder out loud about the U.S.'s red line when it comes to Iran's nuclear program. Would Obama back off from that too?"

"So far I'm with you," John said, well into his Eggs Benedict, "But I'm not seeing how this is evidence of Obama's strategic smarts. It all sounds like quite a mess to me. Half of it his making."

"A mess it is, always has been," I said. "I'm right now toward the end of Lawrence In Arabia, and though I didn't know that much about Arabia during the time of the First World War, minimally, things there were so internally tumultuous as the result of culture, history, and outside interference that there were no easy answers then, much less now."

"And so?" John asked. "I need to leave in a minute so tell me how any of this makes sense and why I should think Obama knows what he's doing."

"I think we agree that he's no hawk. He was elected to end two wars, not to start new ones. He, though, is no pushover when it comes time to approve dangerous missions. Ask Osama bin Laden about that. Or, for that matter, much of al Qaeda's original leadership. So he must be very conflicted about getting involved in Syria, even after they used sarin. Therefore he sends out mixed signals. Some inadvertently, some intentional, and sets in motion a complex set of reactions.

"The Brits look prescient and regained some of their independence and moral standing. They are no longer Bush's or Obama's or any American president's poodle. France gets to look engaged and retains a portion of its traditional role in Greater Syria. All without having to do or risk anything. Very French.

"Putin, who needed rehabilitation in the community of nations gets to look like a statesman and Russia regains some stature and--after the collapse of the Soviet Union--looks again like a version of a superpower. Which, ironically, might help make the world a safer place.

"And Israel gets what it wanted all along--the civil war in Syria will continue unabated for years and thereby reduce the threat they feel from Hezbollah and their Syrian sponsors. If the poison gas there actually is eliminated (and I think it will be--it's in everyone's best interest) that's one more thing Israel will not have to worry about."

"And what about us? What about Obama?" John asked, "How does he come out looking good and not wimpy? As someone who has credibility and needs to be taken seriously? Doesn't he feel diminished to you?"

"Yes he does," I said, "And that may be the most brilliant thing of all. And the most courageous. To be diminished."

"You're losing me," Rona interjected. "I thought we'd get to other things by now. About how beautiful the weather is and how Monday is Bristol County tax day.  I wanted to ask John a few things about our real estate taxes."

"One more minute," I said. "What's potentially courageous in what Obama initiated--and I am speculating he initiated most of these moving pieces--is taking the risk to cool a hot situation by making it appear that America is, in Syrian circumstances and perhaps all of that region, to make it appear that we are weak.

"If so, that would be very Middle Eastern. That's one of my takeaways from Lawrence In Arabia--how among tribes and clans there at times to be strong one has to act or appear to be weak. Everyone knows who''s in fact weak or strong; and when it comes to the United States they know no one is more powerful. So a president can use some of that awareness, that political capital to get things done through subtle as opposed to bellicose behavior. At times, maybe as now, a mix of both is best."

"This is not uninteresting," John said.

"Beyond this, maybe this is also a way for Obama to say that during his remaining time, at least, we're disengaging. We and the rest of the West made enough of a mess already and perhaps it's time to try something new. Let others work things out. Locally. It will be messy, but what else is new?"

"And now about the taxes," Rona was doing her best.

John said, "I have to run. One of our granddaughters is having a birthday today. She's five. Let's hope she'll grow up to live in a better world."

"Amen to that," Rona and I said simultaneously.

August 15, 2013--Eyeglass Update

A number of friends reading here about my eyeglass plight kindly wrote to share stories about their own struggles with aging eyes and offered helpful suggestions about what I might do to manage my proliferating need for various kinds of glasses--from reading to those for intermediate and long-distance viewing.

Bifocals was the answer for some while others shared the ease and convenience (after a considerable transition period) trifocals provide.

I thought you might like to know about the adjustments I've made and how I am managing.

For my readers, rather than worrying about which book I should leave them perched on (since I usually have two or three books going at once) or buy one or two back-up pairs--one for each book--I am placing them only on the book by my bedside. Not the one on the daybed nor the other next to my favorite reading chair.

This seems to be working as long as I remember it's the book in the bedroom that I'm intending to use as my eyeglass repository and do not confuse things by leaving them on top of the last book I was reading before nodding off for my afternoon nap. (Currently, the fine Fools by novelist Joan Silber.)

Rona's suggestion about this--admittedly she has a lot to put up with in regard to me, now multiple eyeglasses in addition to other matters I'd prefer at the moment not to discuss--her recommendation is that I read only one book at a time and thereby solve my reading glasses issues and, as a happy consequence, have more time to be involved with her.

But there I go stumbling into those other matters.

For intermediate viewing I believe I reported last week that my old, out-of-date readers were serving well for TV watching, cooking, and eating. But Rona so hated the "old-man frames"--her description--that made me look, she claimed, "just like" my father, that she confiscated them and then donated them for recycling to the local hospital.

"Let someone else look like your father," she said.

"But you loved him and he loved you so I'm  . . ."

"I did, but you're not him, and my love for him was different from mine for you."

I was happy to hear that. The part about loving me.

But still frustrated, I rooted around in my draw-full of old glasses and found a pair that appear to work perfectly for midrange seeing. And since they have "cool" frames (Rona's description again), I do not as a result look anything like my father. At least when it comes to eyeglasses.

I watched Sunday's episode of Newsroom with them and could see perfectly. On the other hand, I couldn't hear or understand any of the dialogue and had to ask Rona repeatedly what was going on.

But my hearing is another issue I prefer not to talk about.

For long-distance seeing, my old 1.0 magnifiers continue to serve well. I have my two pairs in the car--tinted ones for daytime driving and clear ones for after-dark. Again there is the problem of twilight. At this time of year it commences at about dinner time and driving to restaurants in half-light is becoming problematic. But when going out we're staying close and eating in more than usual.

I'm fine with that. Rona, however, isn't. When driving, she has been giving me attitude about all the switching from tinted to clear glasses and then, at twilight, to wearing no glasses at all.

"Perhaps I should drive," she offers as the sun begins to set.

"I'm fine," I respond half-truthfully. "This way you can drink as much wine as you like and I'll be the designated driver." I try winking to show I have a sense of humor about this subject (I don't). But suspect even my version of charm is not working.

Maybe I should look onto getting glasses for long-distance needs of the kind they advertise on TV that get darker or lighter depending on the ambient light.

I know what Rona would say to that--"Trifocals."

But that's yet another matter.