DECEMBER 31, 2012

IT WAS A VERY GOOD YEAR!

It’s hard to wrap up twelve months, three hundred sixty five days in a bunch of words.  As I sit here at James Court, I watch the snowbirds through my patio doors.  They’ve made a royal mess on the patio.  But, hey, the snow is melting.  And the birdfeeder is still half full.  And the hose will clean up this mess, come the next (warmer) sunny day or Spring, whichever comes first.

I’ve decided it’s easier to write the blog if I just write it for myself.  Those who love me and want to read it will like it anyway.  So for 2013 my goal will be to write for me.  When I’m 90 (hopefully), I’ll have it to help me remember these passing days.

Some of the best things I remember in 2012:

                                              Spending more time with an old friend, Cheryl.

 

SPRING:

Taking  two adult education courses, How To Write A Book In Four Weeks and How to Get Your Book Published, at Morthland University.  Getting to know other aspiring writers and Dr. Randy Carney.  Enjoying having a prayer at the beginning of each class.  Yes, prayer in school!

Monthly get together with the Girls of ’63.  (Served as treasurer for six months)

Association with the Women of Compassion,

visits to Baptist Children’s Home & Family Services

at Carmi and Angel’s Cove at Mt. Vernon. 

Friendship with Rhiannon.

 

Association with Herrin City Library, the History Research Team, projects on The Herrin Massacre and Thatchcot at Christmas.  Compiling the Trovillion bibliography.  Especially working with Lisa.  Our field trip to the Herrin City Cemetery, the Morris Library at SIU.

 

          Membership in Herrin Area Historical Society, various presentations, interesting speakers and authors.  Membership in Williamson County Historical Society, visiting the old city jail site in Marion, friendship with Helen Sutt Lind.

MARCH: 

            The annual Ladies Day Seminar at Whiteash Freewill Baptist.

Seeing Emma’s dance recital at Rend Lake College Theater. 

Always refreshing to be around the younger generation.

APRIL:

Planning and accomplishing an anniversary dinner for Rich and Barb. 

(I really wasn’t sure I could do it, but I DID !! )

Graduating top of the class for range of motion and rehabilitation

after right shoulder replacement per Dr. J. T. Davis.  (He’s so cute.)

 

 

MAY:

Celebrating Memorial Day, Gary’s flag to Fountain Cemetery,

doing flowers for Gary and Mom and the Grants at Johnston City.

 

HerrinFesta 2012.  Had a very interesting day. 
See the blog notes, also a story.

 

 

JUNE:          A normal mammogram.  Six year survivor

breast cancer.  Thank you, Lord Jesus!

 

 

Did a genealogy class for Perry, Marci’s son, who is home schooled.  Also, showed him what an antique computer looks like, old Epson 286, dos text driven, no mouse, no windows and a dot matrix printer.  He was truly unbelieving such a thing exists/ed.  Ha, this younger generation, what they don’t know about old technology won’t hurt them a bit.

JULY:  

                     Uh Oh, moving again.  Just one block over to James Court.  More Space.  A sewing room space AND an office/library/music room space.  Yayyyy!!!  

Family reunion, 37 in attendance, really nice day at Johnston City Scout Cabin.  And yes, we did have toe sack races.  Two family reunions, great seeing those who are able to come.  Such fun tracking down the rest of my family, descendants of Herbert and Mamie Sanders Grant and compiling the family tree.  Ideas, interviews and important stuff for the book which will be done in 2013.

 

 

 

Honored to play the piano for friend Sara’s wedding in Royalton.

AUGUST:

                Still struggling with lower back pain, new Doc, Dr. Newell, scans and nerve ablation done end of month.  Still hoping for relief and better activity, endurance time.

SEPTEMBER:

Afternoon visit from Gregg and Terry on their way from Florida to central Illinois.  So good to be with old friends, old memories, fun times and almost just like yesterday.

OCTOBER:

Having a Halloween party (Lunch) with senior ladies.  Been a while since I’d even been to a Halloween party.

 

 

Trick or Treat, decorated w Mr. Bones and had some very neat

trick or treaters at my doorway.

NOVEMBER: 

                For several months I had wondered and tried every think I could think of to figure out how to see Celtic Thunder at the Fox in St. Louis on Nov. 8.  I called American Classic Tours and suggested they do a St. Louis day tour and the concert.  No go.  I was down to considering BART or even a private driver for pay, or a private limousine to get there.  Then it all fell in place one day when I ran into and old friend and neighbor, Lynn, at Sunday lunch at the Villa La Rosa in Herrin.  Just so happens that Lynn and granddaughter  Brittany are HUGE Celtic Thunder fans.  Yep, you guessed it.  We went.  We had a ball.  Long live good looking Irish men who sing like, like, like, well, the best I ever heard.  Yeah!

Seeing Tom Kilpatrick again, attending his 75^th birthday party at C’dale.  Neat to see his slide show of his life, accomplishments and many travels around the world.

The Thanksgiving Community Service at Lone Oak.  Br. Todd Hawk touched my heart in a special way with his sermon.
 

DECEMBER:

                Playing organ at New Horizon’s General Baptist Church in Marion.  Getting to know Br. Kermit and Shelly and family.  Getting to know Br. Rick and Tracy.  Working with Melissa for the New Horizon’s Block Party and the kids Christmas program.

 

 

Getting to read my poem, “The Wishbook Doll’ at the HAHS Christmas function.  So neat to get such positive reactions to an account of a Christmas from my childhood.
 

Being a part of my cousin Elaine’s family in Mcleansboro, love the kids, all of them. 

Got to spend an evening for Christmas with them. 

Got my first home made hand book done on “Grandfathers”

and was able to give them to John and Julie for Christmas. 

Special moment for me, watching them read my first completed hand books.



 

As always 4 p.m. Christmas Eve at the beautiful service at Aldersgate Methodist in Marion with Aunt Delores, the Taylor family and Pauline and her niece Pat.

 

Being made to feel like family, always, at the Trills in Fudgetown.  Christmas Eve with Lawrence, Clara, Amanda, Preston, Traci and a special little guy named Dakota.  Hey, I got a kiss, yeah, all right!!!

 

 

 

Well, I guess that's about it.  There are some things I didn't tell here. 

I do have some secrets you know. 

And then there were some sad things that happened. 

We lost Aunt Helena and Uncle Dent. 

And we all got a year older. 

And wiser?

So, HAPPY NEW YEAR, WELCOME 2013!

Copyright - 2012 - Doris Grant Frey

 

 

THE WISHBOOK DOLL

 

 

When I was small, a baby-child,

We lived at Gramma’s house.
Just Mom and me and Gram made three
For neither had a spouse.

Now in the fall the mail would bring

The Christmas catalogue.
I’d look and look that wish book o’er
To find the perfect doll.

And then one year on page nineteen

A doll with golden tresses
And, not to mention, a travel case
Filled up with many dresses.

“Oh, Gram, Dear Gram, could Santa ever know,

How it would tickle me,
If he could leave just such a doll
Under our Christmas tree?”

And Gramma smiled, I remember now,

How she smiled down at me,

“Oh, yes, I’m sure Dear Santa knows

So we’ll just wait and see.”

I read that wish book o’er and o’er,

And every toy was seen,

And every page was frayed and torn

But none like page nineteen.

And Christmas came in “Fifty-one”

Like any other year.
But special dreams of the wishbook doll
Had filled my heart with cheer.

And when it came to Christmas Eve,

he tree was up and lit.
My Mom came home from work and said
“Okay let’s go and see it.”

Then Gramma cracked the front room door

And we peered into the room
To see that grandest sight.
It would dispel the deepest gloom.

And there in our front room
A bright and shining tree,
And underneath, a box –
One large one I could see.

Oh, did he know?  How would he know?

But Gramma said he would!
I didn’t know;  how could he know?
But Gramma said he could!

The bed was old, the room was cold

But Momma held me close
And sure enough on Christmas Eve
I soon began to doze.

And do you know on Christmas morn

She had to waken me?
And take me in the living room
And said,  “Now here, let’s see.”

“Dear Santa’s left one here for Gram,

And one for you and me,
You wake her up and tell her “Come,”
And I’ll plug in the tree.”

When we came back, the tree aglow,

Mom had the gifts all set.
I hesitated – At five I wondered,
Could Santa Dear forget?

But in my box with ribbons red

Was Gram’s old travel bag.
She’d patched with tape the well worn spots
And got a new name tag.

And in the case with my name on it

Were lovely golden tresses
On a store-bought doll with big blue eyes
And a dozen homemade dresses.

And every dress was a print I knew

That one of us would wear,
For Mom and Gramma both could sew,
Much more than mend a tear.

When I turned back to page nineteen

The wishbook doll still there,
I was stunned to see the dreamer’s doll
Had little to compare.

For my dear doll had blonder hair

And bluer eyes that closed
And all her dresses prettier
Much more than any of those.

And Gramma’s travel case was just the thing.

It even had my name.
I knew I’d never want the other
After Dear Santa came.

For Santa always knows, you see,

When Christmas wishes rise,
Why, that’s why Christmas wishbooks
Are sent for little eyes.

Now every year when it gets fall

I wait and watch the mail
And when the Christmas wishbook comes
I see what Doll’s for sale.

At thirty-six I’ve seen some dolls

And wished.  But I reckon my best guess is
That no dreamer’s doll could e’er compare,
With dimestore dear in homemade dresses.

By Doris Ann

Copyright – 2012 - Doris Grant Frey

 

 



BLESSINGS:  WALLY WORLD November 21, 2012

 

Everyday is my favorite day!

 

 

 

I’ve been accused of going to Wal-Mart every day.  That’s just not true.  I only go every day that I want to.  It seems like God always blesses me at Wal-Mart.  I don’t mean to sound sacrilegious or whatever that word is.  He also blesses me at home, at church and other places.  But it just seems to me like He always blesses me at Wal-Mart.

 

Like yesterday, I wanted to clean up on the coupons from the weekend ‘Southern’.  I had 8 am blood work at my doc’s office and a $1.49 coupon for Hardees bacon/egg biscuit.  So I got stuck and got my bandaid.  Then I headed over to Hardees. (Incidentally, I held my fork way up high, tilted my head back and slowly angled some biscuit with egg/bacon and gravy into my pursed pouty lips and let gravy drip all over and practically run down my chin and not a single one of those six 70 year old plus dudes at the next table even noticed.)  So much for getting into a Hardee’s ad!  (Don’t’ laugh, remember that cute old gal, who used to say, “Where’s the beef?”)  So I cleared out, went by home, got my shopping list and coupons and headed for Wally World.

No trip to Wal-Mart is complete without at least one or more trips through fabrics, crafts, ribbons etc.  I got stuck in the aisle by patterns and stuff and an old lady was muttering about and so I asked her, (I’ve been studying Wal-Mart Associates for 20+ years) if I could help her.  She said wasn’t it nice that Marion Wal-Mart got crafts back and I agreed.  But she’s not been able to find what she’s looking for.  So, who would be better than me, the local expert, to help.  She’s looking for fabric that’s made into books.  I think I know what she means as I have one of those stuck away in the sewing room, somewhere.  (Picked it up some eons ago at a yard sale.)  So I ask some questions and she gives the answers.  She makes fabric books for an annual flea market festival for a children’s home in Pennsylvania.  She’s originally from there, but lives in Eldorado.  She sells them for $8.00 each.  She goes there every year and takes them herself.  With a few more questions, she describes in detail how she puts the (fabric) pages together and ends up with a book.  She hasn’t found the fabric aisle yet.  She wonders if they have any.  So, I tell her fabric aisle is next one over and they are slowly getting more and more stuff.  I know because I check this “everyday” (every day that I go). 

She invites me to come with her.  And she actually finds two bolts of fabric that are indeed books.  One is actually nursery rhymes and very pretty.  It’s about $5.50 a yard.  I comment that she’s not really making much money, especially with all her work, selling at $8.00 a book.  She explains that this one is more expensive because it’s a brand name (nursery rhymes).  She usually pays less, more like $3.00 or so a yard. 

 

(Example, buy a yard, cut out the pages,

line them up back to back, page to page.  Line each page

 with a thin batting.  Sew them up wrong side out.

Leave about 3 inches open.  Turn them right side out

and hand stitch the opening.  Hook them up at the binding edge. 

One fabric book, all done.  That's how she said.)

 

We had a great time talking and sharing about our projects and stuff, important stuff.  She, also, does quilting.  I notice another younger lady and her cart just past us.  “I guess we’re blocking the aisle, I’ll scoot over this way.”  Then the younger lady says, “Oh, no, not at all, I was just listening to you.”  So we got sewing class going right there in Wal-Mart.  What fun!

(Blessings in disguise!)

 

Okay that was yesterday,

This is today.

 

                       

Well, I forgot the curly-q Day Bright light bulbs for the sewing room so I went back to Wal-Mart today.  First things first, I get the light bulbs.   It’s 1 pm the day before Thanksgiving.  I’m thinking this is definitely crazy going to Wal-Mart today.  But in the scents aisle I’m looking at candles.  A very nice young woman comes along side and notices me looking up (up from my scooter) at the top shelf.  She stops and asks if I need help, if she can reach something for me.  She is so nice.  I assure her I’m OK, can stand etc.  Then she smiles and wishes me a ‘Happy Thanksgiving’ and moves on.  I’m thinking, ‘See there, and you were expecting everyone to be in a big hurry and to be rude and obnoxious.’ 

(Some blessings are lessons in disguise.) 

Eventually, I end up in front of the fresh doughnuts case.  This is one spot I always avoid.  But today, oh well.  So I’m just sitting there looking at the apple fritters, thinking, well, just one!  He comes around the corner of the doughnut case and stops right in front of my scooter.  He’s a little guy with  brownish/blonde hair, jeans and tee shirt and the brightest clear blue eyes.  He has, absolutely, a face of pure innocence.  He looks over the scooter basket and sees a piece of flannel fabric I’m buying.  “Are you going to make that a blanket?” he asks. 

“Yes, I am,” I respond, “I love to make quilts.” 

So he looks over the rest of the stuff in my basket.  Not too much there as my scooter basket’s a lot smaller than a Wal-Mart scooter basket.  I guess nothing else interested him.  Most kids are more interested in my scooter and how it works, etc.  But not this one.  He wants to talk.

He leans back against the door to the doughnuts, sticks both hands in his pockets, frowns and says, “My Gramma’s got a crack in her arm.” 

I’m not sure where we’re going here, “Oh, you’re Gramma’s got a broken arm?”

“Yeah, her name is Shirley.”

“Okay, your Gramma Shirley?”

“Yeah, what’s your name?”

“My name is Doris.”

“Doris, my name is Logan,” he says and comes around to the side of my scooter, puts out his hand.  We shake hands.

“I’m glad to meet you, Doris.”

“Well, I’m glad to meet you too, Logan.”

He smiles and nods his head.

“Gee, I’m sorry to hear about your Gramma Shirley. How did she break her arm?  Did she fall?”

“She fell over a sawhorse.”

"Oh, was she out in the workshop?”

“No, she was in the garage, and she fell, and she had to lay there a long, long time.  She had to lay there until Grandpa came home.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that.  That must have been really hard for her.”

“Yes, and I wasn’t there.  (He stops talking, looks down, tilts his head.)  “And if I’d been there she wouldn’t have had to lay there so long.”

I’m getting really impressed with this little guy.  But this conversation is going on and on and the girls behind the counter over in the bakery are watching.  I’m thinking I’m going to get arrested someday for picking up kids (or little old women, or for blocking the aisles, or loitering) at Wal-Mart.  I’m thinking I should be moving on, but I really don’t want to, so…

“You’re thinking if you’d been there, you could have helped your Gramma, right?”

“Yes,” he says, that he could have helped her, that he wished he’d been there.

“Well, Logan, these things happen.  Sometimes there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I know.”  (Trailing off, eyes focused at something across and beyond my left shoulder.)

Getting concerned that this precious kid could actually be off, alone, talking to a stranger, for so long and that no one has come looking for him, I venture, “Logan, does your Mom know where you are, is she looking for you?”

“No, she doesn’t know where I am.  She thinks I’m at Gramma Shirley’s right now, but I’m not.”

“I know.  You’re here at Wal-Mart.”

“Yeah, but Mom doesn’t know I’m not at Gramma Shirley’s.”

“Okay, well, is anybody else here, maybe that thinks you’re lost, or maybe that they’re looking for you?”

“That’s my Grandpa.  He’s right over there by the meat counter.”

Immensely relieved, I realize that Logan has never been out of his Grandfather’s line of vision, clearly, across my left shoulder.

“Oh, that’s good, you’re here with your Grandpa.”

     Soon, Grandpa arrives, we talk. 

              Logan’s five years old. 

                    He is one amazing little guy and a perfect gentleman. 

                            Grandpa’s proud.

                                      I am blessed!   (no disguise)

I don’t think I’ll go back to Wal-Mart until after Black Friday.

But, if I do, I am pretty sure I’ll be blessed!

Copyright - 2012 - Doris Grant Frey

Quilting By Coincidence

Quilting by Coincidence

     I moved into my new apartment at James Court and started trying to get organized now that I actually have a whole room for my quilting/sewing/crafts and another 'bonus' room for my office.  I had been working fairly steady to get everything sorted and into it's new place.  I used the 'bonus' room, off the patio, for my office/library/music/piano room.  Double sliding glass doors provide lots of light and feeling almost outside. 

     I loved MY summer evening sit outs on the patio in my old Amish built glider and my current John Grisham novel.  I had noticed my neighbor (to the west, rarely used her patio (facing  mine) except for an occasional short break outdoors.  She usually sat a while, bent forward, apparently deep in thought, then retreated inside.

     One evening I was reading outside, when she came out and sat in her patio chair.  I kept on reading.  Eventually, she made a comment and I replied, etc.  So a conversation ensued.  She teaches fifth grade at J.C.  She has a four year old, Josie, who is a pretty special kid.  She goes on to relate that at birth Josie was born with two right ureters. 

    A ureter is the tube that drains urine and runs from the kidney to the bladder. 

Normally, there is a right and a left ureter, one from each kidney.

 Above are the right and left kidneys.  The red vessels are arterial (bringing fresh blood from the heart)

and the blue vessels are veins, (taking blood from the kidneys back to the heart.) 

The yellowish vessels are the right and left ureters, draining urine,

produced in the kidneys to the bladder far below.

Above is a diagram of a double ureter, like Josie's.

     This conversation is definitely moving on.  I relate my first husband had a kidney removed due to a congenital vascular defect and that I've worked as a nurse for 45 years.  From me questions about Josie.  Answers from Kristen.  She was diagnosed at two weeks old, has already had three major surgeries to correct the double ureter.  I'm curious if all this happening at Children's Hospital in St. Louis, and she says, No, actually it's at Mercy.  Interesting, my first husband worked there, known then  as St. John's Mercy.  So she's telling me the pediatric surgeon who specializes in urology is the son of our local SI urologist, Dr. Palagiri.  Next, we're deep into my story about Gary and how Dr. Palagiri (Sr) 's son, Dr. Palagiri (Jr) was working as a resident at St. Louis University Hospital.  Gary's bladder tumor was so rare, he was the first case of Sr. Dr. Palagiri's whole career.  So Sr Dr. Palagiri was telling Jr. Dr. Palagiri about Gary.  He actually knew a professor of Oncology at St. Louis University who had treated a couple of patients with Gary's condition.  So, Sr. Dr. Palagiri (Sr) referred Gary to Dr. Visconti and once while we were at SLU, we actually met Jr. Dr. Palagiri.  Then she says that Jr. Dr. Palagiri has developed new surgical procedures for several pediatric urology abnormalities and a whole wing for kids is named for him at Mercy Hospital.  She says Josie has done so well and has a stent in place.  The extra ureter is gone.  She's due her final procedure in a couple of weeks to remove the stent and have normal kidney drainage.  I'm definitely impressed. 

     After a bit more, Kristen shares that she is really upset.  The first year of Josie's life was very special.  She kept every garment that Josie wore from her first day alive in the newborn nursery.  She had made a deal with a quilter (Ouch, did you hear that word ?  She's upset with a 'quilter' ? ) to take these tiny garments and turn them into a quilt.  (Mercy, Lord help me, here.)  But she cut them up in pieces and generally messed them up and couldn't figure out how to fix a quilt and called Kristen to come back and get them. 

      The disappointment was clear in her eyes and her expression.  I ventured that I wasn't quite sure how she could possibly have messed them up beyond use.  She expressed again her disappointment and just couldn't decide what to do, but had kept them all. 

       Now I hold my breath and dive in.  I tell her that I have done some quilting, no promises, but I maybe could take a look at what she had................. This young woman, who by now had come across the grass and was seated in my swing, shot straight up in the air, "I'll be back in a minute," she flung over her shoulder and disappeared in her back door.

       She soon reappeared carrying a plastic bag full of tiny garments.  "Maybe we should go into the office here to look at them?"  So now we're inside.  If she likes, I tell her, I can show her on my computer, some pics of my work.  She liked this idea and hunkered down for a look.  When we got to Dakota's quilt, actually appliqued and pieced and created from coloring book pages, she jumped up again and took off.  I waited, and she appeared again.  This time she has a very precious four year old Josie on her hip.  We get introduced.  We look at quilt pictures and Josie is intriqued with Dakota and his quilt pictures, especially the one where he's just sitting in the middle of it.

     I think we both know at this point that it's a done deal.  We go through all the garments.  Josie enjoys this herself.  Every one is tagged with a yellow sticky as to the occasion, first day in the nursery onesie, outfit she wore home from hospital, first Christmas, first Easter, first Father's Day etc and on through a whole year including Halloween. 

Oh yeah!  It's a done deal!

     I have a new quilt project.  I have the quilting room all organized and RTG (ready to go !!).  Kristen and Josie have moved but we have phone numbers.  I'm gonna try to get it done by Christmas. 

Wow, what a coincidence!

This blog's not done yet. 

                                                                         Stay tuned. 

                                                                                                                          There's more to come.

JOSIE'S GONNA GET A NEW QUILT !

Copyright  2012  Doris Grant Frey







CUSTOMER SERVICE AND COBWEBS

      I tried Google for a ‘customer service definition:’   there were 7,100,000 hits in 0.13 seconds.  These are just a minute few of those hits:  excellent customer service definition, exceptional , great, internal, superior customer service definition, customer service dictionary, customer satisfaction definition, and customer service representative definition. 

Sooooo.  On with my story!

TIME:  It was time to get the oil changed and a 30,000 mile check up on my van.  Also, the driver’s seat is supposed to slide forwards and backwards and it quit a couple weeks ago.  It still went up and down and tilted but not sliding forwards and backwards.

PLACE:  My auto dealership where I bought the van.

WHO:  Me, the sales manager, two salesmen, the shop service manager, one service technician and the young lady at the pay desk.

WHAT:  My critically observant eye and my big mouth.  An uncomfortable moment over “Cobwebs.”

WHERE:  In the show room.

WHEN:  While I was waiting for the seat in the van to be fixed.

WHY:  It was too hot in the Service customer waiting room.

          I took the van in on Wednesday for the oil change and the 30,000 mile checkup.  They had to order a part for the seat so I took it back in on Friday morning for the fix.  The Service Manager said they’d be right on it and it’d only be about an hour.  So I took my crochet and headed for the Customer waiting room.  It was one of those lovely cool, breezy September days.  I soon realized they must have turned the air conditioning down or off.  It got really muggy and warm, so I gathered up my stuff and headed out.  There was a single chair over by the windows, so I settled in with my coffee and crochet.  The young lady at the pay desk came out.  We discussed the weather.  She decided to open up the doors and it was really nice.  I thanked her for the breeze.  She smiled.

          There was a drop-dead beautiful bright RED Harley Davidson sitting right in front of me.  I couldn’t help being distracted.  Why is it there?  I got up and checked it out.  It's a six speed Screaming Eagle.  It is pretty!

 

 

 

 

Amused and thinking about my bucket list, I wondered how it would feel to be perched up there behind Steve McQueen, my hair blowing in the wind? 

 

 

A young salesman wondered over.  I had overheard him talking on the phone in a sales booth behind me.  I had noticed how polite he was on the phone, quoting makes and models and assuring the caller that he was certain they could make a deal, etc.  He’s smiling, friendly, says, “You’d sure look good on that.”  (Silver tongued devil!)  “Yeah, I was just thinking that myself.”

 

I continue, “But you all would have to hook something up behind it so I could haul my scooter along.  I don’t think Wal-Mart’s going to appreciate me running around shopping on that Harley.”  This kid is absolutely brilliant.  He says, “Well, if you were on that, I bet no one would try to stop you.”  We both laughed.  He went on. 

 

I went over to check out the bright yellow Challenger.  A 2012 Yellow Jacket, 392 Hemi at $50,256.  Shoot, why not?

 

 

 

 

Eventually I go back to sitting and crocheting.  But I had noticed cob webs built up under the tires of the Harley.  Surely it’s not been in that one spot long enough for cob webs? 

 

 

 

 

Now if you look just in front of that rear tire you can see those little specks on the tile.  The cobwebs were running all around there from the tire to those little specks.

 

     Soon another salesman comes in.  He and the young guy are talking.  I interject, “You guys are gonna have to clean up the cobwebs under this Harley, it doesn’t look good.”  The older (still younger than me) guy says, “I don’t have to do anything.”  And he looks like he means it.  I mean he’s not smiling.  He’s not congenial.  He’s not kidding.  I think, ‘maybe, he’s mad?’  Undaunted, I reply, “Oh, you don’t have a job description?”  He’s quick, “My job is to sell cars, not clean floors.”  I’m never speechless, “Gosh, well I certainly wasn’t expecting that kind of response.”  He turns his head.  Young guy looks like he can’t believe what’s going on. 

          Interesting!  All my job descriptions said ‘and other jobs as directed’ on the bottom line.  But then I wasn’t a car salesman.  I was a nurse.  Oh well!  So I shut up and let it go.

I go back to crocheting.  Weird, the pattern of the little piece I was crocheting was named ‘Cobwebs.’

 

          After a while, the Sales Manager comes out.  I’ve known this guy for a long time.  He used to live next to my Aunt Helena.  In 2011, he steered me towards a pretty blue van, got me a salesman and a good deal.  He always comes around for conversation and greetings when I’m in the dealership.  He’s a really nice guy.  He and the young guy and I have a long conversation, cars, weather, family, etc.  Then the Service Shop Manager comes in, my van is all done, everything completed.  So the Sales Manager and I keep talking and the Service Manager listens in.  The Sales Manager brings up what had just happened and apologizes on the spot.  I said, “Oh, gosh, that’s okay, I just think he might need some training on customer service.”  Pretty soon, we finish up, they both leave and I pay my oil change bill at the service desk to that nice young lady. 

Apparently, she’s been observing everything that happened.  She looks at me and she says, “I’m so sorry for the way he was talking to you.  That was uncalled for.”  I try to pass it off, “Listen, I’m a happy customer.  I’m not upset, really.  He just needs to calm down or something.”  Then she says, “The Service Manager has your car ready to go, but he asked if you would come back through the shop.  I think he wants to talk to you, too.”

          So I go to the shop and the new Service Manager and the technician (this one, who helped me order and installed my safety back up camera/monitor) both meet me with concerned faces.  More apologies.  I’m impressed.  They’re a team.  I assure them both that I’m more than satisfied with their service.  I’m a happy customer.  But I have to tell you I was most impressed with that young guy in the showroom.    

He’s a winner.

I believe this younger generation is going to be all right.

Copyright – 2012 – Doris Grant Frey