Opa!

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Daily writing prompt
What is your favorite restaurant?
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In my younger days, it was the McDonalds on Ogden in Westmont.

Before play areas, and tables pretty much for that matter, I just recall a counter facing the street, with spinny seats. Once the cheeseburger, fries and chocolate milkshakes were granted, we could sit, watch the cars, dip the fries and spin. A great break from having mock chicken legs. tuna casserole, vegetable soup or S.O.S.

We soon ventured out Oak Brook/Yorktown way for a try at Beef & Barrel. An early roadhouse effort, with baskets of peanuts in the shell on the tables. And shells everywhere. That was half the fun right there. Couldn’t tell you about the Beef & Barrel Burger, if that is what it was called. But whippin’ peanut shells at my brothers, and lobbing them into their pop made so-so food plenty good for our palates.

Somewhere along the way was a Connie’s Pizza down the block from Mickey D’s, some fried chicken joint in Western Springs that was very good, and the dime store on Ogden and York that had a food counter. The fries there were majestic. We could walk there, down a plate of fries, a Coke and on the way back, stop at Vittori’s Deli for a Hostess dessert fix.

When college and all that it entailed crept up and headlocked me, we discovered White Castles. Nothing like 20 cheeseburgers, large fries and a large coke to cap off and soak up the evening. The staff loved us, and we would joke around with them all of the time. We were like sons. We just sat, ate and laughed for a while until it was time to call in the dogs and put out the fire.

But then somehow, this one became part of the family repertoire.

The Parthenon.

In Greektown in Chicago, on Halsted, not far from the old Chicago Stadium. When this dinner destination was announced, we were in the car before the last syllable left our parent’s mouth. It was a hike. Down the Ike to Halsted on the west side of the city. Sort of by Cook County Hospital.

I recall my dad saying that an owner was in school with him in Champaign, or something like that. After witnessing the adults party there, perhaps that city was misspelled. The front, landscape size window displayed some of the foods you could try and grow to love. Entire gyro roasts were spinning and cooking. Cheeses, desserts, entrees, wines were there for the drooling.

On the sidewalk, you could sense a fever pitch inside.

Like the whole building was vibrating. There was suction pulling against you as you were opening the door. Your eyes and ears were instantly immersed in an overhwhelming symphony of laughter, talking, family warmth, flames and “Opa!” over and over.

Picture a kitchen area in a small, city bungalow home with the old 50’s style chairs and tables – times one hundred. That was the Parthenon. It was like one huge family gathering of nothing but strangers. Like we all knew each other, enjoyed our collective company and just had fun at dinner. All in the same bungalow on Halsted.

Waiters spun all around, carrying huge trays of food and drink, weaving in and out without ever spilling a drop. The Dan Ryan at rush hour was nothing compared to how they kept the food and drink traffic flowing.

Then, intersperse that flow with some fire. Cast iron plates of saganaki, being copiously doused with Ouzo, then a Bic, lit to their forever melody of “Opa!”

The best Horiatiki salads ever tossed without lettuce, served with copious amounts of Feta.

Thin sliced portions of the gyro meat from the window, with pita for mopping.

Moussaka, Dolmades, Pastitsio, Souvlaki, and Spanakopita.

And should there be a small opening left, somewhere deep below, it could be topped off with a smidge of some warm baklava.

The Parthenon is where I first learned to love calamari – squid and/or octopus. A fav to this day. So many other acquired tastes there that I still savor.

A definite food coma on the way back to Franklin Street every time.

It had to be sometime in the late 70’s when I had my last piece of saganaki. . Sadly, the Parthenon closed after 48 years In 2016.

My favorite by far. For the food, atmosphere, and memories of true sustenance.

Thanks Parthenon !

Opa!

It’s all in the eyes.

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Daily writing prompt
Where do you see yourself in 10 years?
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Well, I think I am already on the way.

Dad, guessing at about my age today.

Me.

Got the goatee goin’, can’t say the same for the hair.

Ten years from now?

Well, first off, I am starting to get that sense for taking more of all of it in, like he did. Its like a recalibration of sorts. Very subtle in nature. He was a guiet, old soul. Spoke only when warranted and needed. Quietly acted on others needs. Dynamics being what they were, I allowed them to assume control and didn’t expend the effort needed to know him better. A very tough lesson to come to grips with at this time in my life.

There are others too, their origins now becoming more apparent. No point in resentment or excessive rumination. Awareness, understanding and acceptance will suffice. Nothing to be excised, that just isn’t possible. They can just take solace and company with the slides, college papers and photos in the storage bins in the basement.

Now I can make the most of this moment and today. And as I surmised on my delinquently posted prompt from yesterday, I intend to fully engage in this again if given another tomorrow. There is so much to “be” right now, I can’t waste it by looking ahead. Or allow anything from before misshape and misconstrue today.

He is emitting this wonderful sense in his picture. “Vibe” doesn’t do a man from his time justice. Let’s say energy. Maybe there is a better term. His posture and eyes go together. All natural. Like “I got this”.

Mine?

You can see it was posed. Some rigor mortis. Not there yet. Remains a work in progress.

But I am ok with that. Things are coming around. Maybe it takes another ten years. A couple more after that ? Perhaps the timer goes off before hand. No clue. But however that transpires, I will keep working at it. My aim is to get to whereever he was in this picture in their kitchen.

There is a warmth despite being such a stoic. A sense of acceptance. True peace and serenity there, all for the sharing. I think towards the end, he found that his life was not only good. But right there, it is good.

You can just tell.

It’s all in the eyes.

Connecting with everyone I can.

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Daily writing prompt
What are 5 everyday things that bring you happiness?
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Well, waking up each morning is certainly dandy.

I will continue to appreciate that gift for as long as I am able and given it. No matter the current state of mind, body or soul, just getting to do that is a great start. Then, you get to make the most of it after that. And if things work out, you will get another.

Once I get things situated so my best friend has all she needs to teach and lead for the day, I get to head to church for communion service or mass. An opportunity to just sit and take in all I have been gifted, with an attitude of gratitude. Gather in a sense of belonging to something much bigger than myself with all those around me. Talk about happiness.

Through my vocation, I get to engage happiness in many forms It might be I n the form of job development for individuals with diverse abilities. Coaching basketball and power lifting for Special Olympics provides a limitless supply of happiness. Throw in some football coaching in the fall, and then it comes at me from all directions.

Once her day is over, teaching is done, and mediation determines the menu, we get to make dinner together. We try all sorts of different dishes, whatever just so happens to be the flavor of the day. These recipes are always two plus servings worthy, and great eaten cold, right out the fridge the next day or so. But the best part is that we can do it together. Mingle in some dancing and that takes happiness to the next level, joy.

Lastly, the interaction which guarantees pure joy, is being able to connect with my kids and grand kids. We might get a group text for a movie or game that lasts through the night. the latest video of Cal taking steps, Molly laughing or Amelia running with the football. Might just be catching up some afternoon at home, over dinner, on a walk or simply talking on the phone. Any way we do it and go brings this one joy.

So if you take a step back and take a second glance, you will find that ach of these examples are contingent on one main ingredient. The source of all happiness and the pure joy which follows.

Connection.

Sure, there might be an aspect of these examples that can bring me happiness just because I get to do them. But if they do not involve another in some shape way or form, then where does that get you?

Does taking a walk alone or working out at PF lack connection? Not in my estimation. In the former, you are experiencing a neighborhood, house by house, yard by yard. At PF, there is eye contact, “are you using this?” or absorbing the energy of another in how they work out.

Even now, as I peer out the kitchen window and rap this out, what sense of happiness or joy would it provide if I merely added the last period, closed the Chromebook, turned off the mouse and put ’em in the drawer?

So that being said, what are the five everyday things that bring you happiness?

Connecting with everyone I can.

Albeit, post secondary.

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Daily writing prompt
Describe something you learned in high school.
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Huh.

Well, one thing I learned was there were teachers that care enough about their students to help them identify and address bullies. Mr. Meyers, thank you, rest in peace. I had to pretty much go solo in grade school, relying on flipping and sitting on them until they turned blue.

Then, standing up for myself in the cafeteria a year or so later, I was granted a three day sabbatical for pugilism. My American History teacher, Mr. Hilsabeck, wrote my parents a letter attesting to my character and that it was not like me to engage in that behavior.

My senior year on the field, my OL coach saw potential and let me grow fully into it as a starter for the remaining seven games. Coach Schreiner’s confidence in me offered a path to continue and play in college.

And somehow the writing seeds were planted. You know how that crop has turned out.

The best but toughest thing I learned in high school was the fact that others saw things in me then that I have been blind to for much of my life.

To be honest, looking back, a major contributing factor was the clique system there. As a 5′ x 5′ freshman, I was at the bottom of the food chain. Cannot recall what name was assigned to that, in addition to “frosh”. Nerd? Dork? No clue. But I had my group of friends and we had our fun.

Then when I sprouted six or seven inches over that summer, I jumped to the head of the class, and became a jock. Literally over night, went from being a “nothing” to “everything”. Well, at least according to the design, implementation and maintenance of the clique system.

Had I recognized this for what it was, excuse mon francais – bovine feces – perhaps I would have handled the high school experience a tad different. Then, I would have been much better prepared for college and beyond. Despite outward appearances that may suggest otherwise, it has been a slow motion train derailment ever since.

Back then, somehow I was me.

At least a portion.

But that part had to be unraveled so as to weave the fiction.

Listening is one part of the high school and life experience. However, therein lay the superficiality of the moment, the falsehoods of engaging in perpetual indescretion and granting ego massaging priority first and foremost.

But hearing what is genuinely being said, verbally or in written form, will forever remain. It just takes presence. Patience. and above all, trust.

That is what I have learned.

Albeit, post secondary.

And just did the math,

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Daily writing prompt
Describe one positive change you have made in your life.
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Upon some early morning discernment, I would have to amend this proposition slightly. Bet you never would have guessed that. Uncharted territory for this stoic. You can insert the “but I digress” comment throughout this share as you wish. You’re gonna need it.

In actuality, the one positive outcome in my life has been the sum of the intention to make several changes. I am no math whiz, but an aggregate of this scope doesn’t just appear of its own volition. The equation is far more complicated than that.

Outward appreances may suggest some well defined substractions in thought, word and deed would produce the desired result. But if something is excised and removed, what is intended to be added to fill that vacuum? If that space is allowed to remain empty, just about anything can come along and fill it up. Or worse yet, start to crowd, overtake and suffocate those that bring with them a positive, affirming and fulfilling presence and power.

What then may occur is that “anything” can begin to multiply. Serving to divide one not just from others, but ultimately, from oneself. Faster than you can say “Bob’s your uncle”, it can appear from all angles, consuming more area, turning what was once a positive, into an all encompassing negative. The arithmetic of despair, failure and isolation.

That being said, I needed to go about this with a mindset of arraying a singular, solid and linearly compatible path forward. Simple geometry. As much as possible, going from point A to point B. Rest areas may be encountered. But I choose to remain on this tangent, having been beaten by my prior paths.

First and foremost, by adding faith back into the equation of my life, I no longer feel the urgency to control and command. At one point, I literally felt chased away from it, But now, t listen and heed the call to reengage and return to the fold. No longer do I carry a sense of abandonment and isolation. They were subtracted from my life.

This awakening led to recognizing and confronting my compulsion to overfunction, its origins still not fully known or understood. But now, I can now let go, bringing with it a sense of peace and serenity. Just being fully present creates an atmosphere for the amazing to be recognized and take place. Acceptance of the prior and its brutal lessons provided, enjoined with that of what will be, lets me feel free to be. No more acting like the divine. Just allowing and embracing it.

Subtracted my tendency to engage with others – personnally and professionally – that felt it their place to determine my value and worth. But more importantly, recognized the frequency and dependency of allowing that trait to rule my world. I determine that product, and have come to realize that multiplying my esteem in a healthy fashion keeps the sum a positive.

Lastly, being controlled by the urge to speak your mind at all times, as diseased and dysfunctional as it was, only serves to divide, and never ever conquer. Listening is all inclusive and powerful for all parties. Joining one to all, in all and for all. A lost art that I now treasure like no other.

Faith, letting it be, genuine self-affirmation and using both ears to become connected to all hearts and souls, turned out to be the precious integers I needed to create one positive change.

To live.

It took several classes.

But the lessons stuck.

And just did the math,