Amitié, Partie Deux

After a good night’s sleep, I have reviewed what occurred last night during our weekly get together at the Purple Parrot. I admit that I probably overreacted to the condescending and dismissive remarks my friend made to me when I was served 25 minutes after everyone else at our table had already eaten. Granted, the restaurant was busy and the waiter was new. There were so many prime rib specials ordered from our table (four) that my modest “Wimpy” order (a half pound hamburger) got lost in the shuffle of green order slips in the kitchen. When my friend made his totally unnecessary and thoughtless comments to me, excusing the waiter from his mistake, I responded by saying “That’s bullshit, he made a mistake.” My friend did not approve my response and put it back on me again by saying “Get over it Ron”, thus throwing more gasoline on the fire of my anger which was fueled by two martinis. After I repeated my “Bullshit!” response, my friend gives me a look like one would give a school child or dog and said very slowly “Ron.”, which only had the effect of making me even angrier. Under normal circumstances, which means without the alcohol, I would have let his haughty demeanor towards me pass as I have often done in the past. Last night was not that night. This morning I received an e-mail from another friend who was also at our table. This is a friend who I have the utmost respect. I will take his advice. It was:

“letting him know u disagree is ok....dragging it out was a bit much...we all say and/or do things that annoy other people....the secret of maintaining the group is to make ur position known and then drop it...”

This is excellent advice that I will take and use. He was right, sometimes friends do disagree and we all say and/or do things to annoy other people. Where I am guilty is that I did not let it go. Unfortunately, it was a situation where each of us was determined to have the last word. My friend who made the ill timed remarks that set off my anger is used to not being confronted with his cutting remarks. It was a shame that the rest of the group had to be brought down at the end of a very enjoyable evening. The next time it happens, and it will, I’ll make my position known and move on. I value my friendship with the other members of the group more than I do confronting someone who has a habit of making condescending and dismissive remarks to his friends.

Friendship

Since I’ve retired to Delaware, one of my traditions is to meet with friends at the Purple Parrot restaurant on Sunday night in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. The Purple Parrot offers a Sunday night special on prime rib. My friends partake of this Sunday night special, I don’t. I order what is called “The Wimpy” which is a half pound hamburger. Tonight six of us met at the Purple Parrot for our Sunday night weekly get together. In the past this has been a convivial grouping of friends gently teasing one another, and having a few laughs at each other’s expense. Tonight was different. It started out well enough. I met my friend who lives nearby. We alternate on the Sunday nights we drive into Rehoboth Beach. Tonight it was his turn. Driving down to Rehoboth Beach my friend played a CD he had burned of 70’s disco, which featured the Trammps. Driving down Route 1, with his car sound system turned up to hear the full effect of the disco sound, brought back fond memories of summers past spent in Provincetown, Massachusetts listening to classic disco like the Trammps. We were in a festive mood when we entered Rehoboth Avenue. The difficulty we had finding a parking space confirmed that we were entering into the summer season in Rehoboth Beach. We entered the Purple Parrot restaurant to the cacophony of sound of a reggae band. The Purple Parrot was celebrating its anniversary. We found a small table and ordered our drinks. The music was thundering thus making it difficult to have a conversation. However, the beat was infectious and we were enjoying ourselves, even though we had to shout to have a conversation. After about a half an hour, our favorite table was open. We settled ourselves at the table by the awning which overhangs Rehoboth Avenue. We could people watch and they watched us. I ordered another Appletini Martini. Our friends arrived about a half an hour later. Once all six of us were settled at the table we ordered our meals. Four of the six of us ordered the prime rib special. One person ordered the guacamole bowl. I ordered a hamburger called “The Wimpy.” The music was so loud, that when the waiter took our orders, I got up from my seat and walked over to him and gave him my order specifically. Mine was the first order. My friends ordered then ordered their meals. Our waiter left with our orders. Later he returned to take orders for a second round of drinks. The reggae band disbanded, they were only to play until 6:00 PM. Two of our party we had not seen since the cold days of winter. We were all getting reacquainted. About 10 or 15 minutes later, the prime rib orders arrived. One of our party, who had ordered the guacamole bowl, had received his order and was digging in. He offered me some of his meal. I declined. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed. I still had not received my order even though I had been the first to place an order. One of my friends asked a different waiter why my order was taking so long. The waiter checked and came back and said my order would be along “shortly.” Another ten minutes goes passes. By now, most of our party has finished their meals. I’m still waiting for mine. Another inquiry is made. Finally, my order arrives. Jokes are passed around that everyone will watch me while I eat. I take it all in good humor. After all, I was working on my second Appletini Martini. I eat my dinner while jokes are still being passed around good naturedly. Finally, I finish and the check arrives. Someone asks, and is informed that the waiter was new and overwhelmed and something got “screwed up” in the kitchen. That’s understandable. Mistakes happen. However, when the evening really started to go off the rails was when my friend mentioned in his usual superior condescending sarcastic manner, “Ron, you’ll just have to get over it!” I responded by saying, “No, that’s bullshit. The waiter made a mistake.” I understand that mistakes happen and I wasn’t going to punish the waiter for his mistake. However, I took offense to the offhanded manner in which my friend dismissed the whole episode as if it was my inability to handle a waiter’s mistake. I understand that my friend used to be a waiter. I was one myself. When I made a mistake, my response was to say “I’m sorry.” I would apologize. I have done that. My ego isn’t that outsized or vulnerable that I cannot say “I’m sorry” and move on from there. However, I would get no apology tonight. All I would receive was a dismissive “Get over it Ron.” This kind of condescending superior attitude unfortunately hit the wrong button on my control panel this evening. Again, I responded “No, that’s bullshit!” Apparently, my friend was either incapable of or so disrespectful of my feelings that he was unable to agree with me that he waiter made a mistake. I asked my friend to just say that, not that I should “get over it.” There was nothing for me to “get over.” The waiter made a mistake. Let it go at that. I was going to pay for the meal and even give him a generous tip, as I usually do with waiters and waitresses because I know it is a difficult job. But, my friend was unyielding. He insisted that I should “get over it.” He said “Ron, let it go.” I didn’t have a problem with the waiter’s mistake. My problem with was my friend’s dismissive and condescending attitude towards me, his friend. This friend of mine is one of those individuals who have a unique inability to see any of their own faults. I’ve met other people like him. They have a cognitive inability to acknowledge a mistake. One thing they do seem to have in common, they all see therapists. One would think if they saw therapists they would recognize that character flaw in themselves. However, that does not seem to be the case. While none of us is perfect, including me, I know all to well what triggers my anger. That is someone dismissing me and my feelings as unimportant. The comment “Get over it Ron” doesn’t work. What works is “The waiter made a mistake.” I was fine with that. Then, let’s move on from there. Not, “Get over it Ron.” What’s for me to get over? That kind of comment says more about the person saying the comment and what he thinks of the person he is giving it to. What he is saying is “I have no respect for you at all. The waiter is more important than you.” This is the kind of person it is difficult to be friends with. A friend who respects his friend would not make such a comment. One wonders would he appreciate such a comment if it was made to him? I doubt it. So there we are. My feathers got ruffled tonight at what was supposed to be a friendly weekly get together of friends. Unfortunately it degenerated into an ugly exchange of hurtful words among friends. Sometimes this happens. Sometimes this is necessary for one friend to realize that to maintain friendship there has to be mutual respect. Until that person looks in the mirror and recognizes his own faults, it will be difficult for him to maintain friendships. For myself, I have to ask myself the question, do I need friends like this?

I've Been Tagged

I've been tagged with a meme by Mike of Mike's Musings, an unusual blogger in that he doesn't hide his identity. Meme is a new term to me but I think I understand it.

1. The rules of the game get posted at the beginning.

2. Each player answers the questions about themselves.

3. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they've been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

I will follow all the rules except rule number 3 because there are only three I want to know more about at this time.

1) What was I doing 10 years ago?

I was working two jobs, one as a trust administrative assistant at a small town bank and as a front desk clerk at night and weekends and holidays at the Hampton Inn in Exton, Pennsylvania.

2) What are 5 things on my to-do list for today?

1. Get a haircut
2. Buy replacement ink cartridges at Staples
3. Recycle and deliver old USA Today and Cape Gazette newspapers to a friend
4. Trim grass against fence in backyard lawn
5. Prepare and bake 5 pounds of oven roasted potatoes for next week's meals

3) Snacks I enjoy:

I don't do snacks during the day. Just three meals a day, nothing in between. However, right before bedtime I'll have a dessert. Something sweet, usually a brownie with walnuts or a light fluffy Cool Whip concoction.

4) Things I would do if I were a billionaire (in this order):

1. Set up 10 million dollar irrevocable trust funds for my Mother, two brothers and their families, and my partner so they would never have to worry about money again.

2. Take trips to England, Australia, New Zealand, Europe, China, South America, Iceland, Russia, and every state in America.

3. Buy a summer home in Provincetown, Massachusetts

4. Set up a trust fund for a million dollars for the Sussex County no kill animal shelter

5. Once a year give a million dollars anonymously to a stranger thus replicating the old TV show "The Millionaire" John Beresford Tipton (Tipton is my last name)

6. Set up a 5 million dollar trust fund for the Tipton-Haynes Historical Association in Johnson City, Tennessee.

7. Buy a home in the hills of western North Carolina.

8. Buy a plane for my partner, a former Air Force serviceman.

9. Buy one of those vacant homes on Rehoboth Bay on Marshall Road.

10. Buy one of those new homes in The Woods (behind my current development) for my partner, who misses living in the woods.

11. Buy back my old home in East Brandywine township, Downingtown, Pennsylvania.

5.) Three of my bad habits:

1. Boring my friends with tales of my family genealogical research.

2. Accumulating and hording things I don't need.

3. The inability not to get rid of things I have accumulated over my lifetime.

6) 5 places I have lived (in order):

1. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
2. Pennsauken, New Jersey
3. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
4. Downingtown, Pennsylvania
5. Milton, Delaware

7) 5 jobs I have had (in order):

1. Hotel night auditor
2. Scrap steel yard office accounts payable clerk
3. Bank trust department operations clerk, supervisor, and manager
4. Bank trust department operations consultant
5. Hotel front desk clerk

8) 3 bloggers I want to know more about

1. Carolina Cajun - laid off baseball dad
2. Diane, who is Happy In Nevada
3. Mike's Musings, Lewes to Dover commuter

Rain In Delaware

The rains fell last night during my shift at the bed and breakfast hotel where I work part-time. The view outside the front door of the Inn is of Gilligan's Restaurant. In the twilight light, the pink dogwood in front of Gilligan's proclaimed that spring has arrived in Delaware. Thus begins a new summer season for the resort communities of coastal Delaware. Summer tourists will arrive from the nearby states of Maryland, Virginia, Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Most are seeking to get away from the everyday stresses of their lives. Some are in town on business (working refitting planes at the Sussex County airport in Georgetown). The visitors will stroll down Second Street in Lewes, exploring the unique local stores and dining at the many fine restaurants within walking distance. Many new residents are like me, recent retirees who moved from nearby states. We moved to escape the high taxes of our states and the congested lifestyles. There is some concern now by long time residents of Delaware that the new immigrants like me will affect or destroy the way of life that Slower Lower Delawareans have enjoyed for so long. I would be among the first to be concerned. However, I do believe there is a balance to be attained. Growth can be controlled. While I don't believe in the NIMBY (Not In My Back Yard) theory, I do think certain controls can be in place. A comment on one of my previous blogs mentioned that taxes will go up in Delaware. That might very well be true. Taxes always go up. However, Delaware's tax base is more equitable than Pennsylvania's. I was literally taxed out of my home in Pennsylvania. East Brandywine Township, Pennsylvania, the township where I lived was a magnet for families with school age kids because of its excellent school system. The simple fact was I could no longer afford to live there. Where to go? Asheville, North Carolina? That was an option. Florida? Not an option. Too humid. I decided to go where my friends lived. I decided to move where the taxes were more in line with one's income. I decided to go where the weather was milder. Are there downsides to living in Delaware? Sure. The main one being that I'm so far from anything. My dentist is in Dover. My medical care is the VAMC in Wilmington. In Pennsylvania, I was 10 minutes away from the VAMC in Coatesville, and five minutes away from my dentist. I'm putting a lot of miles on my 10 year old Subaru Forester, traveling to and fro here in Delaware. That said, it is worth it because now I can have tulip bulbs that are safe from squirrels (I have no trees on my property.) There are no deer to eat my shrubbery. I don't have to get my car inpsected every year at an auto dealer which always cost me big bucks. I don't miss the Pennsylvania sales and personal income tax. Delaware does not tax me. I don't miss the smoke in the restaurants. The only thing I really miss is Wegmans.

Sunday Night At The Purple Parrot

If this is Sunday it must be the Purple Parrot. Last summer a friend of mine and I decided to meet for dinner at the Purple Parrot in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. The Purple Parrot is a Key West styled restaurant in the heart of Rehoboth Beach. The clientele is a mixture of local gay residents and adventuresome tourists looking to soak up a little local flavor. My friend and I decided to meet because I like to eat out at informal restaurants and he was overcoming a recent breakup of a long term relationship. My partner doesn’t like to go out to restaurants and my friend didn’t like to eat alone. It was a perfect match up. Since then we have developed something of a tradition of meeting every Sunday night with a couple of other friends. We met through tourist jammed Rehoboth Avenue in the summer, and the cold rainy days of winter when the only patrons of the restaurant were we locals. Now we’re approaching another summer season and the onslaught of a new wave of summer tourists. We will continue to meet, indulge in the Sunday night prime rib special, have a drink or two and enjoy each other’s camaraderie. Life is good.

Why I Retired To Delaware

The picture to the right is one of the reasons I retired to Delaware, to be near the water. All my life I’ve wanted to work and/or live near the water. As I approached my retirement age, I realized this was one goal I had not achieved. For many years I visited Provincetown, Massachusetts. I fell in love with Cape Cod. However, as much as the Cape was a perfect fit for me, I had to face reality. In Massachusetts the winters are long and cold and the taxes are too high. Delaware’s taxes are low and the winters are milder, with virtually no snow accumulation. Another good reason for moving to Delaware is that it is only 2 ½ hour drive to my Mother’s home in Pennsylvania. The trip to her home from Massachusetts would be a nightmarish sequence of plane trips, taking at least a whole day. The choice was easy. Delaware was my retirement destination. For over 30 years I had been visiting a friend in Sussex County, Delaware. I was well aware of the lay of the land. Another major factor for me was that the Rehoboth Beach area and many of its surrounding communities were gay friendly. Many older gay men and women found a community in Delaware that they could not find in their own hometowns. While the state of Delaware still does not offer domestic partner benefits, many gay retirees have found Sussex County, Delaware (also known as “Slower Lower”) a place where they felt comfortable leading normal lives shopping at Super Fresh or Loews. Same sex couples could go to restaurants and not invite quizzical and sometimes disapproving stares from other diners. In Sussex County Delaware, same sex couples can live in neighborhoods just like any other family. No longer are we restricted to inner big city neighborhoods. Gone are the days when a same sex couple would invoke suspicion and, sometimes, outright hostility by living in a family neighborhood. When I lived in Pennsylvania, for many years I had a neighbor who expressed their homophobic hostility to me and my partner almost daily. They made our lives tense and unhappy. That is all in the past now. I live in a development just two miles from Henlopen Bay. While I don’t live on the water, I do work on the water. To sum up the reasons I retired to Delaware, I work and live near the water, pay low taxes, and live in a friendly neighborhood. I have a great job. I work with wonderful people and love doing what I’m doing, working the front desk at a small bed and breakfast inn on the canal in Lewes, Delaware. That is just about as much as one could ask for. Oh, I wouldn’t mind winning the Powerball lottery this weekend.

Coming Up Roses

Dare I say it, but life is finally taking a turn for the better for this Delaware retiree. The bill for my emergency room visit of January 3rd is finally settled. I have my new partial denture after enduring a tooth extraction and a couple of months of no teeth on the right side of my mouth. The unexpected bills have finally stopped popping up. And, best of all, I do believe the cold weather is behind us. Bill and I were out this weekend building new raised flower beds while the swallows performed their aerial acrobatics over our lawn insect hunting. After years of procrastination I finally have my genealogy website and blogs up and running. Through the kind and generous help of a fellow blogger, I’ve added music to both. After the long winter hibernation, I’m ready for the long, warm, sun dappled days of summer in coastal Delaware. And who knows, maybe DELDOT will finally finish Route 1. Then I can truly say…………………..life is good in Slower Lower Delaware.