Memorial Day 2016

This year, Memorial Day is a bit different for me. As is so often the case, I am usually working the sales at Macy's. However, I was lucky enough not to be assigned any shifts this weekend. Okay, I took a short shift for Monday for the extra pay. That said, I'm off today, Sunday, which is rare.

Last night I declared to my family that I wanted to spend today doing something fun. All suggestions got a thumbs down and I gave up. So this morning, I woke up and decided to visit my parents' grave at Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery. I generally avoid the cemetery on Memorial Day for obvious reasons. I usually feel guilty as heck because I really should pay my respects to my father who served in the Army during World War II. Every year, I think about going and just don't. This year, I decided I would visit.

The traffic on Telegraph Road was horrible, of course. I felt bad for the local residents who are just trying to get their weekend errands completed. I guess they just get used to it after a time. Big Jack came with me on this visit and I'm glad he did. I always get confused about the location of my parents' grave and, as usual, became hysterical when I couldn't find their section. He calmly took over and requested help. The grounds keepers nearby were kind enough to help me find my parents and even gave us a flag to place on their grave.

The Boy Scouts were everywhere, but waiting for some signal from a grown up to start placing the flags. They seemed bored and wondered what the hold up was all about. I was kind of wondering myself.

A visit to my parents' grave is always emotional. As I stood there, crying a bit, I told my parents about what was going on in my life. I told them I knew they were watching over me and I knew they would be proud of me.

Memorial Day is a time to remember those who have fallen defending our country and our freedoms. While most people see it as a three-day weekend with barbecues and opening of swimming pools, we should all take a moment to remember the true meaning of the holiday.

You Have Got To Be Kidding Me!

A recent article from the New York Times showed up in my Facebook feed. Actually, this article showed up a couple of days ago in another news publication, but I failed to catch it.

Let me ask my readers this question: Why on Earth does a high school need a major stadium and events center? Um, hello, this is a HIGH SCHOOL, not a college.

I realize that Texans love their football. I also realize that Texans love bull riding, barbecue, and big cars. Texas is a world all to their own. I get it. However. Yes, there's a however. Our country is still creeping along with an economic recovery that's not been particularly evident. The unemployment rate has gone down, but that number is rather deceiving. Why, oh, why does a high school need a $63 MILLION stadium? I fail to see the logic in this.

Here in Missouri, particularly St. Louis, our local school districts can't support this sort of expenditure. Even the wealthiest school districts (Parkway and Rockwood, for example). When my kids attended Ritenour, only family and close friends attended the high school football games and there was still plenty of room in the stands for more people. The visitor stands had even fewer people occupying them. Ritenour's football team has improved over the years - they even made it to the regional playoffs (a feat that had never happened before). But twelve thousand seats? Seriously? High school regular football season is shorter than college and pro football season. High school playoffs tend to wrap up before the holidays.

I could almost see the logic of such an expenditure if it served all the school districts in the surrounding area, not just one high school. Same with the events center. Of course, this raises the security issue which exists between rival high schools. I'm sure, here in St. Louis, Ritenour and Pattonville would not be keen on sharing space, nor would Kirkwood and Webster Groves. Maybe rivalries in Texas are more intense. I wouldn't know.

All I do understand, is that in a world where jobs are scarce, money is tight, and our educational system is at odds with the rest of the world, we really don't need mega high school football stadiums.

Tragedy, Family, and Community

Yesterday should have been an ordinary day for a small family in St. Ann, Missouri. Yesterday should have been just another day for most people in North St. Louis County. Yesterday should have been an uneventful day for the St. Ann Police Department. And, yesterday shouldn't have happened for one heroin addict behind the wheel of a car.

I'm talking about the tragic, horrible accident that happened at the intersection of Ashby and St. Charles Rock Road in St. Ann, Missouri. A busy intersection in the heart of strip malls, fast food restaurants, and chain retailers.

The reports are sketchy, but basically what happened was this: a man and his wife and two-year-old child in a stroller were crossing the intersection intending to go to the barber shop next to the local pizza parlor. Cross traffic was stopped on a red light. However, one driver came through the intersection and slammed into the family, throwing the child 8 to 10 feet away. As of this writing, the baby and mother are in critical condition; the father with broken bones. The driver was high on heroin and passed out at the wheel; his foot slipped from the brake and on to the gas pedal, causing the car to move forward.

My daughter told me about this accident last night when she picked me up from work. My heart came out of my chest.

This morning, the Facebook page Rock Road Reporter was flooded with local reaction to this tragedy. The community is pulling together to find ways to help this family. The outpouring of support and sympathy is incredible. While many of us in North St. Louis County cannot contribute financially, so many are offering time and talent. This is what community is about - helping one another. Not tearing one another down. Not building walls (are you listening, Donald?).

This story brings many emotions. Sympathy, empathy, and mostly, outrage.

Heroin is a destructive drug - as are many drugs. It has become an epidemic in our country. I watched my childhood friend lose two siblings to this horrible monster. Once it captures its victim, there is no letting go. The escape is almost exclusively death.

How did we get here? With all the information that is out there, why is this a problem? DARE programs exist in most schools in St. Louis County and St. Louis City. I can't speak for the rest of the country, but how is the message of stay away from drugs being missed?

How?

Why?

Now a drug addict is facing a whole lot of problems stemming directly from his abuse. Even if this person has a conscience, and it's not my place to judge, he should feel sick to his stomach for what he did. I guess heroin removes all that from the user. I wouldn't know.

Twenty-four hours ago, a young family woke up to a cool, spring day with ordinary plans. Ordinary plans for an ordinary day.

Please pray for all who are touched by this terrible tragedy. If any of my local readers are able to help, please do. We are a community.

Presidential Election and Our Future

Wow. Election season is always fraught with hostility, but this one just takes the cake. A business mogul/reality TV star thinks he has the stuff to be the leader of the free world. He's demonstrating his incredible people=pleasing skills by insulting everyone and everything in his path, encouraging violence at his political rallies, and resurrecting frightening memories of past fascist European leaders. His popularity is mind-boggling, to say the least. I have no clue what his plans are for running the country - he hasn't really articulated that yet. He's too busy shooting off his mouth about his opponents, Mexicans, Muslims, and anyone else he doesn't like.

Then we have other contenders for the highest office in the land. Two of them I'm pretty much ignoring, but maybe I shouldn't. Neither of them seem to be saying much. The other two have my attention. I'm ready for a woman president, but does it have to be the one campaigning now? I just don't trust her. To be fair, she proved her mettle while a senator from New York (in what way, I don't know - don't live in New York). She wasn't a delicate flower as Secretary of State, either. Until the Bengazi and e-mail server issues came forward. Now, I'm not so sure. The senator from Vermont seems to make a lot of pretty promises and paints a future filled with hope. His campaign ads are, for the most part, positive. Basically, I have a choice between an untrustworthy former Secretary of State and a senator who identifies himself as a Democratic Socialist. History has proven that Socialism looks great on paper but doesn't work well in real life. What kind of future will I get when I vote in November?

Many Americans are angry with the current state of the country. There are no jobs and despite what the White House says, the economy is not doing very well. Not for the rest of us. My past posts have talked about my personal situation and the new suburban poor. We need a leader who can pull people together and work toward a viable solution. We need corporations who are willing to invest in their communities. We need an educational system that will make us not only more competitive in the global marketplace, but useful here at home. We need a healthcare system that supports and treats our human condition. We need law enforcement that is trustworthy and accountable. We need to re-learn respect and the Golden Rule.

But, most of all, we need community. We have the capacity to create great things out of almost nothing. If we aren't a great country (and I'm not so sure we are), we have the capacity to become great again.

Remember our beginnings - thirteen British colonies who pulled together and told a global empire to stick it where the sun don't shine.

Affordable Care Act

When President Obama promised and signed into law the Affordable Care Act, I was actually relieved. I thought, oh wow, now I can see a doctor and remain healthy. This law had a lot of promises. This program was supposed to bring a brighter future to those who could not afford health care insurance or had no access to it.

So what went wrong?

Let's see. The "affordable" part is based on the wage earner's gross income, not net (net is after taxes and deductions have been taken out). Other expenses the wage earner is responsible for is not figured into the "affordable" insurance. So, if the wage earner is paying $600/month in mortgage or rent, has roughly $250/month in utility bills (gas, electric, water, sewer, trash), and is incurring other expenses such as car maintenance or bus/train fare, these are not figured into the actual living wage the wage earner is making. Therefore, the required-by-law health care insurance is another crippling expense that is forced on the wage earner unless he/she wants to receive a tax penalty of astronomical proportions.

My insurance premiums have shot up from $0 to $75/month in just two years. All I have had in that amount of time is a sluggish thyroid and a case of bronchitis.

I'm having trouble seeing where this is "affordable."

Here in Missouri, we are required by law to purchase automobile insurance (liability is the minimum insurance the state will accept). Mortgage lenders require homeowners to purchase homeowner's insurance if they want a loan. Now, the general public is required to purchase health care insurance. Do you see a pattern here? Insurance companies are raking in millions. That's what I think.

Yes, I get the reasoning behind some of this. Car owners who actually had car insurance were getting into accidents with other car owners who did not have insurance and the offended insurance company was getting stuck with the bill. Car insurance companies were hollering, "Not fair!" I'm not sure why mortgage lenders began requiring insurance. Maybe they were getting tired of being stuck with burned out buildings that they couldn't sell?

The Affordable Care Act was supposed to open up access to health care for those who couldn't get it otherwise. Even with the monthly premium at under $100, I still have to pay a co-pay. While the physician co-pay is a reasonable amount, if I need to see a specialist, it shoots up to $45. Some of these providers charge that much for an office visit even without insurance. So, what am I paying for?

Even if the primary medical care is reasonably affordable, there is still the "extra" medical stuff that doesn't come free. Dental plans are expensive and don't cover anything more than the semi-annual cleanings and x-rays. Fillings are extra. Hope you don't need a tooth pulled, because no one covers that. Eye exams - forget about it. Now, to be fair, Missouri will cover these items for children under 18. You are on your own after that.

So, how are we supposed to get healthy if we can't pay for it? The Affordable Care Act hasn't eased anything for the poor - only made things worse.

Food Pantries and Creative Cooking

In my previous post, I gave you, my readers, a snapshot of my very personal life. Please bear in mind, this is private and personal. I am putting myself out here in the blogosphere in the hopes that someone reading this will know that he/she is not alone. Poverty is, oddly, very isolating, yet there are so many of us. Maybe if we talk amongst ourselves and share ideas, we might be able to come up with a solution or become empowered enough to get the attention of our local government officials. My goal, then, is to create awareness of what it is to be part of this strange thing - The Suburban Poor. With this awareness, maybe we can reach out to one another and create a support system that will find solutions - not just for ourselves, but for others.

Our budget is so tight that it almost doesn't even exist. Not terribly long ago, my weekly grocery bill was over $100. I shopped at Shop N Save because I trusted the merchandise, produce, and felt the prices were fair enough. Schnucks is fine for some things, but I had to watch the sales. At that time, I wasn't especially sold on Aldi. I had tried them a long time ago and wasn't impressed. Little did I know how much all that would change.

I was never comfortable going to food pantries. I always, and still do, felt that the pantries were for people who really needed the help. I didn't want to take anything away from someone who was worse off than me. Well, we are now receiving services from our local food pantry. I have since learned that a patron can visit as many food pantries as she wishes. I was going to the Jewish food pantry and now I'm going to the one run by Ritenour. The Jewish food pantry is fantastic, really. I just felt that I was receiving enough from Ritenour and didn't want to deplete their supplies unnecessarily. As I wait for my turn, I'm astounded at how many people are receiving help from these pantries. It boggles my mind. Is this an accurate picture of the state of our country and our economy? Every volunteer I have met has been more than gracious (although, some have been rather annoying, but we won't get into that here).

Shopping the food pantry is a challenge all by itself. Meal planning on on the spot and at the mercy of whatever is available. Jack is diabetic and, yet, we seem to always receive a big bag filled with sweet rolls and potato chips. The patrons are allowed to shop through the pantry goods and each section has a sign of what your allotment is. Volunteers are nearby to help with questions or make suggestions. Okay, here's where an occasional volunteer can get rather annoying. Produce is often times moldy, half rotten or infested with fruit flies. One volunteer tried to convince me that the gray/green limp thing in her hand was yummy broccoli and I should take it. I'm sorry, lady, if it is so yummy, why don't you eat it! Yuck!

I wish there was a way to work out between the grocery stores and food pantries to create a voucher-type system that would allow food pantry recipients to get actual fresh produce. The grocery stores have to write off their produce losses anyway, so wouldn't this reduce that in some way? Please, someone who is an accounting expert please explore this idea. Not food stamps, per se, but a voucher that allows a pantry recipient to select X pounds of fresh produce each month.

As I mentioned, getting food at the pantry is a challenge in the form of meal planning and cooking. Yes, I love taco casserole, but if ground beef isn't available, I guess I won't be eating taco casserole. Same with taco chips, or salsa, or sour cream, or fresh lettuce. See where I'm going with this? One of our trips to the pantry netted us a can of almond pie filling. Now, what in the heck am I supposed to do with this? It's items like this where I rely heavily on my computer to look up recipes that call for this ingredient. Might be a good thing and an introduction to a new dish. If I have all the remaining ingredients.

Guess I'll be visiting the grocery store. The big stores are out of the question now. Just can't do them anymore. Example: fresh eggs last month were $3.00/dozen (Yes, that's $3.00) at Shop N Save, Schnucks and even Walmart. Aldi and Ruler Foods eggs are less than $1.50/dozen. I'm an Aldi convert now. Aldi must have changed their products, because their stuff is really good. Except for their pizza. Their pizza is nasty. Produce selection isn't as all encompassing as I'm used to with Schnucks and Dierbergs, but the prices are reasonable and the quality is good. The highest I have had to pay at either Aldi or Ruler Foods has been $45. Thanks to the food pantry and exploring these two outlets, my grocery bill went down by $50 to $80 per week. I'm thrilled!

Meals are more creative now. I have about three pounds of white rice I have to figure out what to do with. I still haven't figured out what to do with that can of almond pie filling. But those small stale French bread loaves make great French toast in the morning.

St. Louis' Suburban Poor

Many, many people have commented on today's economy. The President, in his State of the Union Address, seemed to feel that the economy has made a turn-around. Well, respectfully stated, I don't agree.

The next few blog posts will be addressing my own experiences with being in what is called "The Working Poor" or as I call it, "The Suburban Poor." These posts will not be a rant, but a presentation of a situation and, hopefully, a few ideas to make things better.

In 2002, I was laid off from a job that paid me the highest salary I ever earned. Had I not been laid off, I probably would have been able to take my young family on our first, ever family vacation. While that job would not have put us in a fancier neighborhood, our bills were finally getting caught up and we were getting out of debt. Things looked rosie for a change.

I took the layoff well; I detested my job and saw the layoff as an opportunity to further my education and get that bachelor's degree I had been talking about for so long. I was foolishly confident that I would land another job in no time - I had the skills and experience that were in demand.

God decided otherwise.

Since 2002, I completed my BA in advertising/marketing communications. Looking for work in my chosen field was consistently met with, "Sorry, but we are looking for someone more qualified." Translation: I'm too old. My husband's disability needed more of my attention as did my young children. I volunteered at their schools and scout meetings.My elderly mother was showing signs of dementia, but I didn't pick up on those signals. When she fell down the basement stairs and broke her neck, I realized I needed to take charge of her care. Her dementia became worse as well as her health and she passed away three years ago. At no time during all these years, had I ever been able to pursue a full-time job. I am still the primary care-giver for my husband.

I have been working retail for the last five years and making less than I did 20 years ago. Needless to say, bill paying is almost impossible. We have applied for help through the state only to be told that I am making too much money. Jack's disability only covers the house payment and a utility bill or two. My meager paycheck doesn't cut it and we often alternate what bills get paid each month. Eventually, this arrangement catches up with us and then we have to apply for help somewhere else. However, help isn't always available. Did I mention we are back in debt?

Now we are facing collection calls, utility shut offs, and possible foreclosure on our home. The nursing home that cared for my mother is suing me for unpaid bills. While I don't carry credit card debt (I learned that lesson already), I took out loans on the house. Things here are very bleak. My husband's mother was helping us as best as she could, but now his siblings are threatening us with a lawsuit if we don't pay her back. She is also very elderly.

Over the course of history, the poor have always been punished or shunned to "their place." It seems that it's easy to pick on the vulnerable of our society. Jesus cautioned us, or rather - admonished us, "Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."(Matthew 25:40 - King James version) Why is this message so lost on our society and governance?

Next blog - Food Pantries and Creative Cooking.

Retail Life

The holiday crunch is winding down, however, employees are struggling to decompress from two straight months of intense work schedules to meet the ever increasing demands of consumers.

The shoppers that come into Macy's never cease to amaze me. Some are well-mannered, so of course, we don't remember them. Those wonderful shoppers ask for service politely, say thank you and wish us a Merry Christmas, Happy New Year or a nice day/evening. If children accompany these lovely people, they are well-behaved or just plain cute.

The rest of the shopping population could learn a thing or two from these kind folks. Throwing merchandise at me while talking on the cell phone will not garner you outstanding service from my side of the counter. Nor will screaming at me because store policy won't let you price merchandise to your liking. Yelling at me because the whole store is out of gift boxes won't make aforementioned gift boxes appear out of thin air.

This holiday season has been no exception as for the craziness out there. One customer got mad because she had to pay state and local sales tax on her purchases. Another customer wanted me to look up postal zip codes for her to send a gift out of state. One "charming" young lady informed the long line of customers behind her that they will have to wait while she marched me over to see merchandise that she insisted was marked down but was not.

Let's be clear. Retail workers are human. We have good days and bad. Yes, some have an attitude - I've run into that. We have the perspective of both sides of the counter. We probably have a better idea of how retailers work than a lot of consumers. We don't resent the empowered and knowledgeable consumer. We just don't like being played or bullied. We don't make store policy nor do our immediate supervisors/managers.

Macy's is a large department store which is tied to legally binding retail agreements with hundreds of manufacturers. Macy's doesn't set the prices on all merchandise. Notice the word - all. If we want to sell Levi's jeans in our stores, we have to enter into a legal agreement with Levi Strauss to allow us to do just that. Levi Strauss has every right and reason to dictate what price will be placed on their jeans and if/when they go on sale. They can tell Macy's to not use our own coupons on their merchandise. This is all completely legal. However, many consumers fail to understand this.

What amazes me and  many of my co-workers is how much the customers rage over the high price of certain items (for example, children's clothing). Yes, I agree, a $35 Ralph Lauren Polo shirt for a toddler boy is outrageous. However, my question is this - why are you shopping here if you can't afford it? No one is making you buy that $35 toddler Polo shirt, so don't. All of the Ralph Lauren line - men, women, children - is expensive. Ridiculously expensive. However, Mr. Lauren can ask those prices because he knows there are customers who are happy to pay those prices. There is no shame in his camp because there is no shame among his consumers. People are willing to pay extravagantly for his brand and the image that goes with it. This is called Economics 101 and Marketing 101. For the rest of us, there's Walmart, Target and KMart. If those stores are too much, there's always the thrift stores.

Now that the holidays are over for the time being, we have to clean up the mess left behind from frenzied shoppers. This year, especially, the store is completely trashed. It's frustrating enough that at any time during the year, we will go to great lengths to make the store merchandise look pretty for our customers. We sort merchandise by brand, style, color and size - all for the convenience of our customers. We strive to make a pleasant shopping experience only to be "thanked" for our efforts by the tables, racks, and shelves being completely torn apart by people sifting through the merchandise. Fitting rooms become a disaster area with discarded garments strewn on the floor, turned inside out, and (here's the disgusting part) soiled with human waste. People are gross. No, we do not have a crew of people who come in during the night to straighten up the store.

 I wish there was a way we could educate the public on how to conduct themselves in a retail environment. Maybe I can outline a few tips for shoppers:

• Empowerment, as mentioned before, does not equate bullying. Demanding that I give you 50% off a garment that is excluded from coupons will not endear you to my good graces. However, if you ask nicely, I might be able to accommodate you. It just depends on the item. Remember, legally binding agreements between Macy's and the vendor are out of my control. I am empowered to override coupons, but too much of a good thing could get me fired. If you are on the conservative rolls complaining about the "freeloading poor" in our society, costing me my job could land me where you don't want me. Please think about that before yelling at me.

• Pretending that we are the best of friends won't get you a higher discount. It boggles my mind when some people come in and act like I will do them an extra favor. No, I will not. Furthermore, I never saw you before in my life. We are not friends. My real friends would never expect me to jeopardize my job to save them an extra dollar. So, pay for your selection and get lost.

• Tag switching is always something that just slays me. You really think I'm so dumb that I won't notice you switched out a Ralph Lauren tag for a store brand tag and placed it on a pair of Lauren jeans? In addition, I will notice when a designer swimsuit suddenly comes up for $4.00 in August. Or any other time of the year. Designer swimsuits never sell for $4.00.

• Please don't come to me with a garment that's missing a tag and expect me to magically know how much it is. That two-second question will launch as much as a 20 minute search and often times I have to find something similar because that item is no longer in the inventory system. After all that, the best I can do is a guess on pricing - might be an amount you don't like. Well, too bad. That's how it is.

• A favorite scheme that some young people like to pull - getting too friendly and physical with me. Not sexual, just friendly. This ploy is to distract me while the friends behind me steal something. Seriously? I never saw you before in my life. I don't know who you are nor do I care. DO NOT take my arm and guide me to where you want me to see whatever it is you want me to see. I know your buddies are shoplifting and the first chance I get, I will call security and see to it that your happy little behinds get caught.

• Parents - please watch over your own children. Too many times, I have seen small children run wild throughout the store and I cringe over what may happen. Collision with mannequins, customers, or racks of merchandise lead to possible serious injury. When I tell the kids to stop running, I'm not being a jerk. I'm possibly saving your child's life, something you seem to value less than I. Further, in an age where child abductions are frequent and publicized, you should be worried about who else is in the store. Predators disguise themselves to look like everyone else. That's how they do what they do. Store employees are not baby sitters. Our security team is watching for theft of merchandise, not kidnappers. If your child cannot handle the shopping experience, go home. Go straight home. Don't pass Go and don't collect $200. Get a baby sitter or come back another time.

• If English is not your first language, please bring an interpreter. I don't speak Spanish, French, Vietnamese, Mandarin, Japanese, Swahili, Russian, Arabic, or Klingon. Shopping by yourself when  you don't know the language is asking for trouble in the form of honest and dishonest misunderstandings. In addition, it's just plain annoying to explain 15 times that you won't get 20% off an item that is excluded from that discount. Oh, yeah, and pretending you don't understand English will not help you in any way. I can spot it and won't budge an inch. I'm German like that.

• Unless you know exactly what you are looking for and where it is, coming into the store to shop five minutes before the store closing is never a good idea. Employees are tired and want to go home. We have only a short period of time to close registers and clear out fitting rooms. The lights are turned out because we want you to leave. If the item you are looking for is that important, you should have made time earlier in the day/evening to look for it in the store. We do not give extra discounts when the store is closed for the evening. So, don't even try it. Continued shopping in the dark will only get you personalized escort service from our security personnel.

The holiday season is past and the shopping cycle begins anew with clearance, Easter, spring and summer, wedding, and back to school sales looming on the horizon. I will draw this to a close by repeating what is said every night at store closing: "We hope you have had an outstanding shopping experience today. Thank you for shopping at Macy's and we look forward to seeing you again soon."

Garage Sales in the 21st Century

Is it just me, or are garage sales changing?

Many years ago, if you had a garage sale, you posted a notice in the newspaper and then placed maybe 20 signs all around your neighborhood advertising your sale date and location. Some municipalities require the seller to purchase a license to have the garage sale. Your garage sale day would arrive and you wake up to find a line of people waiting at your front door hoping to get dibs on whatever was on hand.

Today, I had my first garage sale since my mom died two years ago. As with all garage sales (and for all sellers) a lot of planning and junk sorting goes into these endeavors. This year was particularly difficult because I was going through my mother's belongings. I also have some items that belonged to my mom's sister (still living but in a nursing home). On top of all these, I still have my parents' large collection of books - many are classic literature and a must read for writers such as me.

I had purchased the sale license about three weeks ago and read Overland's requirements. Only two signs. Well, that sucks. Signs cannot be on telephone poles. Well, that sucks, too. I see the reasoning, but it still sucks. Signs on corner lots can't be placed without homeowner permission. Well, duh. I just wish I knew the neighbors at the corners near my house to ask their permission. So my advertising was limited to a nice little sign in front of my house. I also couldn't advertise my garage sale until the day before. So much for the newspaper. Facebook posting on various online garage sale sites will have to do. I'm trying so hard to embrace modern technology.

Going through my mother and aunt's belongings was a bit emotional. I felt like I was throwing out my family. Passing along my parents' personal library to outsiders felt like a mortal sin. I don't have room to keep all this stuff. However, we really need the money and I was hoping we would get a big crowd.

Last night, my husband and I went through the boxes and priced most of the items. I hate pricing. I have no idea how much a watermelon shaped wicker picnic basket is worth. There isn't really a Kelly Blue Book for junk. I think there's something like that for antiques, but I don't have any.

I was up most of the night preparing for this morning. I think I got about four hours of sleep before getting up to put tonight's dinner in the slow cooker and start taking stuff outside. This late June morning was cool and breezy. I'll take it - no rain today.

My garage sale only netted me $54. I kept posting pictures to the Facebook pages that showed up. People wanted online pictures and price quotes before coming out. Several people wanted the same things but if someone beat her to the item, someone else got mad. I didn't see any cruising cars. In fact, there were no lines of people on my front porch or driveway. I don't think I had more than a half dozen people all day.

I'm trying not to be ungrateful. The money from the garage sale was more than I had when I woke up this morning. I simply feel like I wasted my time. One customer came to the house wanting one particular item that I had. She showed interest in a few other items. When she was ready to pay, she didn't have enough money. She told us she would go to the bank and be right back. Yea. Sure you will. Never saw her again. My stuff is still here. Other customers would contact me on Facebook, say they were interested and never show up.

What happened to the adventure of driving all over town looking for garage sales? What happened to the anticipation of finding an obscure item that you like?

Today was a disappointment. So, I think I'll take my box of Caramel Crunch 'N Munch popcorn with peanuts (purchased with sale money), go sit in my corner and drown my sorrows. Then I'll take a nap.

A Day in the Life of . . . me?

My job at Macy's is both fairly easy and incredibly difficult. The easy part is just doing my job. The incredibly difficult part is dealing with cranky customers, gross things left behind by disgusting customers, slow computers and pricing that won't cooperate.

This morning I woke up and began to cry. I am so burned out from my job and really need a change. My boss, Cassandra, knows this. I told her that working for her is what helps me get through my shift. Really, she is. She's a young manager, but she's mature beyond her years. While I can't talk to her about everything (she doesn't know what it is to deal with a 20 year old daughter), I can talk to her about customer situations and know that, for the most part, she is listening to me. In spite of that, it still doesn't change the fact that I'm tired of dealing with crabby people.

Today was the preview of the One Day Sale that all the employees hate, loathe and despise. Customers get ridiculous about these sales. Today I had a customer who barely understood English but insisted that she could override the $10 coupon on her $15 purchase going to someone else. (The coupon is $10 off $25 or more.) That customer was really the only problem customer I had - that is nothing short of a miracle. One customer was thrilled when I fixed a problem with a previous purchase, another customer was ecstatic that I found the pants she wanted to get for her daughter and another customer praised me for bravely chasing a man out of the women's fitting room. A grandmother purchased some clothes for herself and her daughter while her 12-month old granddaughter lifted up my spirits with her sweet smile and adorable giggles.

Cassandra met with me to go over my monthly score card for sales - high marks across the board. She was thrilled and so was I. Still no word on a raise, though.

Finally, my shift ended and I bolted out the door. Just as I rounded the corner from the employee entrance to the front of the store, I spotted a pigeon on the sidewalk. It was too close to the doors and when I came near it, it only backed away from me. It didn't fly away - just backed up and in circles. At first, I thought it had an injured wing, but it kept going around in circles. Backwards. Probably a head injury from flying into the glass windows above the doors. Other customers spotted it and went around it, but no offers of help. One of the cleaning ladies spotted me outside and came out wanting to know what we should do. I told her to get a box and some towels or rags. It took her awhile, but she returned as I was talking to another customer and his girlfriend about the bird. We fixed up the box and the guy gingerly picked up the bird and placed him in the box. I assured everyone that I would take the bird to a place I knew that would help him.

I raced home with the pigeon in the box. I told Big Jack and Jack Jr. about the bird. Jack Jr. called the Wild Bird Rehabilitation Center which is about a mile from my house. They had just shut off their phones for the night. Big Jack came with me while I drove over to the center to see if we could catch the volunteers before they left. As luck would have it, we got there just in time. We dropped off Macy (yes, we named him) in the very capable hands of the volunteers. Now to hope and pray that Macy will make it through the next few days and be as good as new.

Today was probably a better day than what I expected when I woke up this morning. Maybe God is trying to tell me that He's watching over me as well as Macy. (The bird, not the company)

The Cake Odyssey is Winding Down

My STL250 cake quest is nearing an end. I still haven't reached all of the cakes, but I've decided not to worry about it. My adventures throughout the region, however, won't stop just because the anniversary celebration ends. I've learned a lot about my hometown and wish to explore further.

My most recent adventure to me to Grafton, Illinois to visit a winery which was hosting one of the celebration cakes. Now, keep in mind, the scenic Great River Road is a wonderful experience all by itself, especially in the fall where the bluffs are alive with fall color. Even though the peak fall color had already passed when I drove through, the afternoon sun was turning the trees to a vibrant bronze and I wish I could have pulled over to the side of the road (no place to do that) to take pictures. I could have taken a gamble and just stopped. There was no traffic on my side of the highway. But I'm not a speedy photographer and it would be just my luck that a huge truck would stumble on me as I pressed the shutter.

Once I arrived in Grafton, finding the street that leads to the winery wasn't too difficult. Highway 100, which runs along the river, is level and flat. Mulberry Road is, I'm not making this up, easily a 30 to 40 degree incline from the highway. The winery is roughly a quarter mile up this hill. Straight up. Narrow. Winding. Road. Did I mention the 30 to 40 degree incline? Hope heights don't bother you.  By the time you reach the top, you NEED that bottle of wine. Oh, by the way, this would not be a good time to discover your car's transmission and/or brakes need work.

The view from Aerie's Riverview Winery is breathtaking to say the least. Now here's a bit of nature education for you. Aerie isn't just a cool sounding name someone picked out of a hat. Our national bird, the bald eagle, is such a special bird that her nest just can't be called a nest. No. An eagle's nest is actually called an aerie. Furthermore, eagles build their aeries high up in the trees because, well, they can. Hence, the name for this hill top winery is appropriate. I didn't sample any of their wines, so I can't tell you if they are good (no money and I'm really not a drinker).

The winery is rustic and pleasant. I'm told the food is great (again, no money to try a sample) and the zip line ride looks like fun for the very brave. Hey, I took on that hill - don't push it. After getting my pictures, I descended the hill - riding my brakes the entire way to Highway 100.

Little Miss Rosie

I may have mentioned in previous posts that we adopted a stray kitten almost a year ago. I remember when we "found" her (I think she found us) because it was two weeks after my mother passed away. We like to think that Mom is watching over us in the form of this stray kitten.

In the year that she has been part of our family, she has been a constant source of entertainment. Most mornings, we wake up to finding a sock or two on the floor that wasn't there the night before. I've caught Rosie sneaking away with socks from the dirty laundry and bringing them upstairs, properly deposited on the kitchen floor or dining room floor. She announces her gifts with a plaintiff cry. These gifts only happen at night when everyone is asleep. If I get the laundry caught up, she gets creative in her gift-giving. Dirty underwear, towels, slippers, gardening gloves and a winter scarf will make an appearance. We don't get mad at her. When picking one's battles, I'll accept dirty underwear over a dead mouse. You don't have to ask me twice.

Last night, I took down Rosie's collection of socks (12 this time) with the plan of working on the laundry in the morning. This morning. the same 12 socks reappeared in the dining room. Oh Rosie. My 19-year-old daughter told me she had a dream that Rosie brought up all the dirty laundry and was sitting on top of the pile looking so proud of herself. I think she may be plotting to do this very thing.

This isn't the only thing Miss Rosie does. Mealtime can be challenging because Miss Rosie thinks that people food is for her too. Our other cat, Rocky, is never interested in table food (lucky for us). Last night's dinner consisted of pork chops, mashed potatoes and carrots. Well, Rosie perched herself on my son's lap and tried to sniff his plate. He would gently push her head aside, letting her know that she couldn't have any. Once he began to cut his pork chop, she slipped her head underneath his arm and actually tried to get to the pork chop. One smart kitty. Or one determined kitty. You pick.

Little Miss Rosie, if you are my mom in spirit, could you please remember your table manners? Or at least put away the clean socks? We just love you to pieces.

Oh, The Places I Go!

This year is the 250th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis. Part of the year-long celebration is the public invitation to find 250 birthday cakes that are sprinkled all over town. I believe I've photographed 58 cakes so far.

Regional Arts Center, St. Louis, MO

I try to incorporate some of the cake odyssey in with the usual errands that may take me near their locations. Sometimes, it takes a special road trip. For instance, my daughter drove me out to Eureka/Pacific area to capture the cakes at Lone Elk Park and World Bird Sanctuary. None of my errands take me out there.

Most of the time, I'm in a rush to capture these pictures. Illegal parking is becoming the norm and occasionally I will deliberately drive the wrong way down a one-way street if it means getting me back to where I want to be. (shshshshsh - don't tell the cops!) Taking pictures of the cake at the Soldier's Memorial on Market Street meant being under the watchful stare of not one, but two, security guards. They weren't worried about me doing anything in the Memorial. They were guarding the set up for the upcoming filming of American Ninja Warrior and didn't want me to mess with anything. No prob guys. Once I started to leave the Memorial, one of the guards chatted with me a bit about the show. I told her that we could honestly say we were on the set and that we are sooo ninja that we were there and the audience couldn't see us. Works for me.

Better than a dozen of the cakes are located in Illinois. Since I have family in Illinois, this really isn't a big deal. Just make a run to visit a relative and then go cake hunting. My elderly aunt was recently relocated to a nursing home in the same town she's lived in most of her life. Since she's almost my only living relative on my side of the family, I try to make a point of going to see her. She has no children, so I'm the closest thing to a daughter she has. Last month, I met with a friend who grew up next door to my aunt and we visited Aunt Dolores. The day was fun and Susan took me to see the Giant Catsup Bottle in Collinsville. No one in my family ever mentioned the Catsup Bottle and Susan couldn't believe I never saw it before. Well, knock this one off my bucket list - the cake was located underneath the Catsup Bottle and I have both on record.

Today I went back to visit Aunt Dolores to deliver some plaques I made for her. While driving into Collinsville, I began to cry. Fond old memories rushed over me. As a child, I always saw Collinsville as a haven of peace and the place where my beloved grandparents and aunt and uncle lived. I made it to the nursing home, and had a wonderful visit with my aunt. She loved the plaques I made for her and I arranged for the maintenance people to hang them up. After the visit, I headed south towards Belleville for the beginning of my cake adventure. I mapped out everything before leaving home, so I was pretty sure I would be just fine. The big plan was to get one in Belleville and the two in Cahokia. I had never been to Cahokia. Aunt Dolores thinks I'm pretty gutsy. If she only knew.

The National Shrine of Our Lady of the Snows was lovely and so different from the last time I saw it (some 25 years ago). I spent some time in the Lourdes Grotto where I let loose the tears of grief. I would have stayed a little longer, but my nose was getting sloppy and the tissues were in the car. Once I regained myself, I headed towards new territory - Cahokia, Illinois.

Cahokia is one of the oldest towns in the area - predating St. Louis by about 50 years. It was a trading post and a military outpost for the colonists living nearby. Looking at the map, I knew Cahokia's proximity to East St. Louis was a little closer than I cared for, but I forged ahead anyway. If the neighborhood didn't look safe to me, I would just turn around and go home. HA! I'm not giving up that easily! Gas prices are $3.42/gallon. I'm getting those pictures!

Holy Family Catholic Church - Cahokia, IL

There isn't much to Cahokia because the town keeps getting flooded. A lot. Stretches of run-down buildings next to new shopping centers with a respectable amount of customers in the parking lots kind of told me that Cahokia is trying to survive and thrive. The map I printed turned out to be useless and I found myself on the street I was looking for. Fortunately, the brown road signs pointing to historic landmarks were my salvation. I found the Old Cahokia Courthouse and the Holy Family Catholic Church. Both buildings were built before Mr. Jefferson drafted the Declaration of Independence. I felt like I was walking on hallowed ground.

The caretaker for the Old Courthouse talked to me for awhile and even gave me a personal tour of the courthouse. The courthouse wasn't completely original because it had fallen to ruin, been put back together, moved to the 1904 World's Fair and then to Chicago. In the 1940's, it was finally returned to Cahokia and rebuilt to resemble what it may have looked like when Lewis and Clark were gearing up for their trip west. It was all so incredible and overwhelming. I think I could have spent hours there, but I wasn't comfortable taking up too much of the man's time. While he was friendly enough and very informative, I didn't like being alone with a man in a building where I wasn't sure I could get help if I needed it. I'm sure this gentleman had no intention of any harm at all. Just a security issue for me.

Once I completed my quest, I headed back out on the road to go home. My plan was to pick up the highway that would take me back to Collinsville and safely to St. Louis. It would have been a rather round-about route, but I would be skirting East St. Louis and the extra travel and gas would have been worth it to me. Nope. I passed the exit for 157 and headed straight down Route 3 into East St. Louis and Sauget because I saw the signs indicating the highway I needed to get to St. Louis was straight ahead. Idiot!

For those who don't know, East St. Louis and Sauget are home to a wonderful collection of gangs, strippers, hookers, drug dealers, mob people and strip clubs. In fairness to the residents of these communities, not everyone there is bad. I'm just not interested in finding out who's a good guy and who isn't. Sadly, there are about four birthday cakes in East St. Louis as well and I've been trying to decide if I should risk it by finding them. Not alone, of course.

The drive through East St. Louis and Sauget was shorter than expected and blessedly uneventful. I reached the highway I needed and trudged my way through rush hour traffic to home. I think the rush hour traffic was probably more dangerous than the jaunt through Sauget!

Raising Awareness . . .

Aware (adj.) - 1. having knowledge or realization; conscious. 2. informed. awareness (n) *Random House Webster's Dictionary Fourth Edition

Almost everyday, I see something or hear something in the news or on Facebook about a group of people raising awareness for some worthy cause - Autism, Heart Disease, Child Abuse, Alzheimers, etc. We even have national awareness days for pancakes, chocolate chip cookies, ice cream, people with red hair, various ethnic groups, and so on. All of this is wonderful, fun, and eye-opening. Hence, the name, Awareness.

I would also like to raise awareness of a social problem that is sorely overlooked. The neglect and abandonment of shoes. Drive along any highway, side street or parking lot and you will find a lost shoe somewhere. Some are dress shoes, but most are athletic shoes. Some of these shoes are so beat up that they are almost unrecognizable.

Shoes protect your feet from the dangers of the outside world. They withstand the onslaughts of puddles, gravel, dirt, gum, glass, your sweaty feet, dog poo, other people's feet, puppy teeth, and extreme temperatures of heat and cold. They do this without complaint. They are loyal - always stay where you left them. They can make you look dazzling, help you cross the finish line or land that job. They are truly Man's best friend.

Yet, we treat them so shabbily. They are cast aside, like, well, a worn out shoe. The abuse must stop. Let's find a loving home for these poor cast-offs. Only we can stop the madness.

*Clip art by Graphxpro/Redbubble

Blizzard of 2014

Okay, my family and I are bundled down, warm and well-fed, on what is the coldest Arctic blast to hit St. Louis in two decades. We also got pummeled with around ten inches of snow. Now I can remember the blizzard of 1982 and this one, while still severe, doesn't compare to that one. Reminiscing, however, doesn't change what is today.

After watching the snow fall all day yesterday, I'm looking out my windows on a new sunny day and see what the storm left behind. The snow in all its glistening glory covering every surface possible. The high winds have blown the snow into drifts that make the landscape very deceptive. My backyard has been turned into an artist's canvas of lines and dimensions. In one part of the yard, the wind has blown the snow so that it looks like Saturn's rings extending about ten feet into the yard. Closer to the back deck looks like those rice beds in China along the side of a mountain or tiered gardens in Peru. My little tricycle planter on the deck is almost completely covered in snow; the handles peeking out on top.

I spent yesterday cooking and baking so today we can eat without a lot of preparation. Of course, this arrangement won't last long. Tomorrow I will cook some more. I find it both funny and a little comforting that sometimes, Nature (and God) force humanity to stop the hustle and bustle and rest for awhile. This blizzard has achieved that for me. While laundry and dishes are a daily chore that will never go away, cooking on a larger scale is a challenge that can be met when all other obligations are removed. Since I can't get out of my driveway, I make do with what I have in my refrigerator and pantry. I am, by no means, a creative cook, but I am a pretty good cook and with the help of the Internet, I can put together a tasty meal.

Our two cats have expressed their opinions of the snow - they are not amused. Sami took each one out and they wanted back in immediately. Rosie, the stray we adopted, is a small cat and when Sami put her in the snow, all you could see were her ears. Rocky, our older cat, hissed at the snow and wanted no part of it.

Today is going to be spent huddled under blankets, reading, watching movies or surfing the 'Net. Kind of a nice change, really. Maybe we'll face snow shoveling tomorrow. Today, we rest. And stay warm.

Hey, Wait! Where Did Christmas Go?

The Christmas season wrapped up at midnight, December 25, and I must say, it was the fastest season on record. Thanksgiving was a bit later this year, but Christmas itself seemed to zoom by.

This Christmas was the first Christmas without my mother. My husband's beloved uncle in New Jersey also passed away just a few weeks ago. All of us were sort of dreading this holiday - we weren't sure what to expect. My son put it very well today - Christmas came and went before we even noticed it. Macy's kept me so busy that I didn't have time to do much decorating. There's a wreath on the door and that's about it. I sent out Christmas cards - but the list was very short. I, somehow, managed to bake cookies for people at work My daughter was busy working at the movie theater or out with her friends. My husband had a host of health issues that demanded much of our attention. Even Christmas dinner wasn't a big deal - pork roast and vegetables in cheese sauce. Cherry pie for dessert.

I'm not sure if we are out of the woods just yet. On Christmas Eve morning, I received a call from a member of my uncle's family - my only living aunt (Mom's older sister) was in the hospital. Dehydration and bad nutrition led to her being rushed to the emergency room. All I could think of was, "Here we go again."

Maybe the lesson here is that life goes on in spite of ourselves. I feel like my mom nudged me a bit on Thanksgiving Day and gave me permission to enjoy the holiday. While I was so busy my head was spinning, I didn't feel depressed. My daughter, however, told me she missed her grandma and was sad. I guess it was a good thing she was busy with work.

Life, Death and the Holidays

Somehow the holidays always seem to sneak up on me. I know I'm not alone in this observation. However, for our family, this holiday season is drastically different.

Last August, we lost my mother. After almost 91 years, her heart, mind and body finally decided enough was enough and she joined her brother, parents and my father in Heaven. While I know she is in a better place, I and my family miss her dearly. Someone posted on Facebook a few days ago a little sentiment, "I wish there were visiting hours in Heaven." Today, I wished that more than anything. Today wasn't anything special. It was just another day with Thanksgiving looming in the almost immediate future. I'm not cooking this year. Neither is my aunt - my mother's older sister. We have chosen to eat out this Thanksgiving. Any other Thanksgiving, I would have regarded this as sacrilege. My aunt was concerned that we would be insulted by the idea. Not this year.

Shortly after Mom's passing, we acquired a stray cat. The plan was to find her owners or turn her over to the Humane Society. After two months, no one came forward to claim her and we had become attached. We named her Rosie. Nosie Rosie would be a better fit. She is in everything. She's no longer a kitten; the vet put her at about a year old. Rosie has a personality that is all diva, and Rocky, our older male cat, isn't so sure he likes the idea. However, they have learned to like each other and sometimes sleep together on Big Jack's recliner or my lap. I wish Mom were alive to see them. Rosie would have had Mom laughing until she cried.

Big Jack's mental and physical health issues are taking their toll on all of us. We've made adjustments in his medicines for his psychiatric problems and now his kidneys are rebelling against him. Since last spring, he has had a total of 7 kidney stones. This latest one had to be surgically removed through his back. The thing was the size of a golf ball and the doctor believes there may still be more. Needless to say, Jack is in agony and I'm exhausted.

The pressure of the holidays is always the same. However, this year, we will be absent from a lot of the holiday traditions. We haven't really decided if we want to decorate for Christmas. I don't think I'll be baking cookies or anything else. Maybe we'll try being normal next year.

4th of July Reflections

Today we celebrate the anniversary of our country's Declaration of Independence from a tyrannical monarchy. The fireworks, parades, and fairs are always the highlight of an American summer.

On this day, my son and I went for a two-hour drive (each way) to Hannibal, Missouri - nicknamed America's Hometown. Hannibal, as most people know, is the hometown of Samuel Clemens, aka Mark Twain. This historic river town is home to Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn, Becky Thatcher, Aunt Polly and a host of iconic characters that draw us back to a time when riverboats ruled and life moved at a slower pace.

Sadly, Hannibal today isn't the quaint river town that most of us imagine. Many historic buildings have fallen into terrible disrepair. The Becky Thatcher House just reopened after a four-year renovation, but the Grant Drugstore is so bad, it's too dangerous to allow people to do any more than look in a window. An employee of an art gallery we met told us that renovations have been going on in the last ten years, but much more work needs to be done. I shake my head and wonder what Mark Twain would think about his home town if he saw it today.

In spite of my melancholy over Hannibal's deterioration, my son and I had a good time while there. The craft show was lovely, the carnival was fun, and while the fence painting contest wasn't quite what we were expecting, we enjoyed the visit. We finished our day with dinner at the local diner - Mark Twain Dinette and Family Restaurant. The diner celebrated 70 years last year and is clearly a popular eatery. The food was great and atmosphere very friendly.

We didn't stay for the fireworks in Hannibal. My son was tired and wanted to go home, so we made the drive home in time to see the fireworks in our own neighborhood. For the first time, my husband and I were able to watch the show from five different locations around our house from the comfort of our front porch. The "official" show was two miles away and not really visible from our house, but the neighbors put on a really good show. Noisy, but wonderful all the same.

I'm so thankful for a lovely day to celebrate our nation's birth, our Constitutionally guaranteed freedoms, and spend time with one of my very favorite guys.

Work Life at Macy's

The last couple of weeks at Macy's have been, well, strange. Its also been interesting. If I wrote a book about my experiences at Macy's, I wonder if it would be a best seller. Or Macy's may sue me. Time enough to figure that out later.

In any event, here we go.

As you all know, I love to play with the babies and children that come into the store. It's the high point of my day. One day I was doing just that - a little boy in his stroller was flirting with me and I was playing back. Mama and Grandma were nearby and approved. Somehow, another customer standing nearby thought she would get in on the fun and asked the baby if he could say Grandma. She asked this several times. Mama and I looked at the woman wondering what she was thinking. Then the woman looked up at me, surprised, and said to me, "Oh, you work here!" Needless to say, Mama and (the real) Grandma were irked at the woman. I simply stated, "No, ma'am, he's not mine."

The next day, while I was at Walgreens, a woman came up to me and commented on my smile. She said she thought my teeth were beautiful and wanted to know if they were my own.

Last week, at Macy's, a woman literally left her 3-month old baby in his carrier at my feet while she went to the dressing room to try on some bras. Macy's requires all its employees to take care of the customer, however, I don't think babysitting is part of the job description. After speaking to management and our security department about it, neither one gave me a good answer on the best way to handle that situation. Great. Oh, and the woman came back to claim her child after about ten minutes.

This week, I have had a customer go into a narcoleptic seizure at my register, and another customer almost pass out from Heaven only knows what.

As you can imagine, I started my shift yesterday with a quick prayer to God asking for just a "normal" day. No weirdness, please. He answered me.

Yesterday I met half the world. My customers included a woman from Turkey, another woman from Columbia, South America, a couple from Belgium on a business trip, an American woman now living in Switzerland, a business woman from Nigeria (her name would sprain my tongue if I tried to pronounce it), and an American couple celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary by traveling from Ohio to St. Louis for the first time. Okay, that last one was domestic - don't get so picky.

I have written about international customers before. It's truly amazing how global we are. I've met people from Ireland, Great Britain, Sweden, Switzerland, Turkey, most of Asia, Bulgaria, South Africa, Ghana, South America, Saudi Arabia, and Italy.

Happy Memorial Day readers!

Cultural Crossroads

The world is an amazing place. Really. Most of us think that the world revolves around us or that the rest of the world lives, thinks, eats, and breathes just like we do. Some people may never meet a person from a foreign country or someone who has traveled outside the United States. Some, like me, get the privilege of having the world come to them.

Allow me to explain. For the last two years, I've been working part time as a sales associate for Macy's in the St. Louis Galleria. The Galleria is a busy place and wanderers will come through Macy's looking for something that they can't live without. It's no surprise that customers come in all shapes, sizes, colors and personalities. I won't get into the frustrations of dealing with the public here. I'll simply describe the customers who have passed through my line. Ready? Here we go . . .

I had a woman visiting St. Louis on business who lives in Switzerland. She had a delicious accent and was a delight to help. Another woman was from Italy and described her hometown (can't remember it now). She also had a yummy accent and comes to St. Louis frequently on business.

Countless Middle Eastern women, some accompanied with their overbearing husbands. Don't get me started on that subject. Some were easy to get along with, others seemed to think they were in a Pakistani street market and could argue the prices of everything they were buying. Wait, didn't I say I wasn't going to get into the frustrations here? Sorry. Not sure which countries these folks were from, but I would guess Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iraq/Iran, Saudi Arabia, and a few from India.

About equal in number to the Middle Eastern ladies would be the Asian ladies. Once again, I couldn't begin to guess where they were from, but China, Korea, Vietnam and Japan sound pretty good to me. Sometimes, I found it interesting that the older ladies were accompanied by the younger "Americanized" family members and they act as the translators. Language barrier is a real issue on my job.

An American woman came through and told me she was heading home to France. I asked her if I could go with her and she laughed. Turns out she is a missionary and living in France. I tried my hand at French and failed miserably. She was very gracious about it and I told her to have a safe trip "home."

If the customers weren't colorful enough, our employees easily add to the pallet. Two employees hail from South Africa, another from Spain, a manager from the UK, another employee from Bulgaria and another from Croatia. The gal from Croatia really sounds like she's from Brooklyn, but who am I to judge?

Maybe I should get a job at the United Nations.

Nah.