Have A Spooktacular Day

We're the Clampetts 364 days of the year. One day of the year, October 31st... we're the Munsters.

Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. No presents expected or expensive dinner to buy and cook.

Nothing but good old fashioned fun for kids...and adults.

When our kids were little I went all out, decorating the house every Halloween...complete with spooky music playing loudly on the stereo with the speakers propped in the windows and me dressed as a witch. I painted my entire face and neck green with paint from Party City.

One year we made a haunted house in our garage, hanging sheets of black plastic to make walk ways twisting and turning through our two car garage. At the end we had a mail box posted, surrounded by black plastic where kids had to open it and get their candy. We had the front of the box facing the kids to open, and cut the back out so my neighbors' husband could reach through (with a fake spooky hand glove on) to try and snatch the candy back.

That was our best Halloween ever!

Massey and Zach always wore their costume of choice which they had to have. TJ just usually wore his horrific pull over rubber mask with a black hood and cape, carrying a pillow case for his haul.

I miss those times, when the kids were still little and got so excited by a simple night of fun.

They held a Halloween event out front of the restaurant where I work on Saturday night. I bet they were five hundred people there. The costumes were great, wish I had taken pictures but unfortunately (fortunately) was too busy to stop and take them. I went dressed as a server, trying to make that almighty dollar from making everybody mighty happy in a restaurant.

Here's a couple of my favorite cyber Halloween costumes instead:

 Bruce Bannister (The Incredible Hulk) at his finest.

Whoever this kid has for parents is riding the same Crazy Train I am...totally awesome!

Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe....spot on!!

Off with her Head!!

Too funny but also a sad statement of reality.

Yep...that's the Weiner!!


I hope everyone enjoyed their own Halloween.

It's a holiday you shouldn't pick apart and make about evil satanic ways or witchcraft.

It's a holiday to simply give kids a break from reality...and trust me they need it, with the world we're leaving them.

There's still time to change what we leave the future generation.

I'm on board, how about you?


Here's to hoping to be pleasantly surprised.

Till next time...COTTON

La Familia

I've been serving so long, it was technically called waitressing when I began my now almost forty year career in the business.

I enjoy it because number one, it best suits my personality and skills set and number two, has always provided pretty well for me. I can remember making about $13,000 a year when I first started doing it full time in the late seventies. I peaked at a net income of over $70,000 while working at the airport.

Not bad for a college drop out.

It has its ups and down, but what job doesn't?

I don't think there was one Hispanic working in the restaurant where I first worked. That's hard to find these days.

Boy, the times have times changed

I think working in the service industry so long is also what helped shape my opinion of minorities in the work force.

A couple of true facts I researched:

(2016)

The restaurant and foodservice industry is one of the most diverse in the United States. It employs more minority managers than any other industry. Women represent 55 percent of the restaurant workforce, and more than a fourth of all foodservice managers are foreign-born.


 Over 9.5 million people worked in restaurants and bars in August of 2011 with 8.6 million working in non-supervisory positions. In 2010, 52 percent of these workers were women, 11 percent were African American, 6 percent were Asian, and 22 percent were Hispanic or Latino.


I can say with full confidence, and will, that my Latino and Hispanic co workers have always been some of the hardest working people I have ever met and are more often than not, the life blood of a restaurant.

So with all that rant said and done...have a funny story about work tonight.

I went into work at six PM. I wasn't a closing server so really didn't know what kind of money I'd make. Closing servers get to suck up all the money after all the other servers are cut from the floor.

It wasn't super busy but we had a crazy, and I mean crazy one hour pop.

It was like someone had driven them all together in a Greyhound bus up to the door of the restaurant and let them all pile out at once.

I was so in the weeds it wasn't even funny.

*For peeps who don't work in the industry, "In the weeds" mean you're so buried and behind that you can't even see a way out."

I normally don't have to ask for help from others and didn't for about forty five minutes. I was close to going down in flames, with sweat running down both sides of my arm pits.

I went into the kitchen with an armload of  dirty dishes, repeating my mantra over and over again, so as to remember what I needed to do or ring into the computer next.

One of the Hispanic cooks working Sautee', the closest station by the dish room, stepped off line and took every item from me and carried them all to dish room. Then he did it again less than two minutes later. Five minutes later a food runner (also Latino) saw me headed through the dining room, once again on my way to the dish room with another bobbling load, and relieved me of my unstable stack of dirty plates. He did it several more times within one hours' time.

It was like the the instructions on old shampoo bottles... "Lather, rinse and repeat."

With their help, two minutes later I was back on top of the game.

It almost got out of hand and would have panicked without their help.

With their help, my tables all had an amazing experience and I made pretty great money in the span of less than three hours.

After the rush, I went to the expo line and announced "Attention Kitchen, you rocked that...and job well done."

Not one of my customers' dishes came out late or got sent back and everything that hit my tables was on point.

It's a pretty terrific kitchen staff I work with and the main reason I am able to make the money I do.

Massey had made brownies yesterday for me to take to work and  had them all in a gallon size plastic bag in my trusty lunch box. I tossed the baggie on the counter of expo, thanked every one of them (all Hispanic but one) and told them to enjoy the brownies.

If you've ever been a server, there's nothing worse than the kitchen crashing during a 'Hard Push' ...and it was a pretty hard push.

After all was said and done, I did my side work and cleaned my station.

I clocked out, with a hefty wad of bills in my apron.

I went to the back of the kitchen to retrieve my umbrella (never leave home without one in Florida) and get my now empty lunch box from my locker. I had brought treats for the dishwashers and sous chef as well.

Another female server was talking by the lockers with about three other cooks. They were all four Latino.

Here's the thing about Latino women talking with another Latino, to a JawJa Gurl, born and bred.

Number one, they speak extremely animated, fast and furiously and number two,  always seem highly irritated for some unknown reason.

I'm sure American women sound the same to Latino women who aren't fluent in my language.

So I'm getting my things out of my locker, kinda halfway listening to her when I hear the word "Gringo".

I was totally kidding, but said (being funny)  "Hey, hey, hey..don't be talking about us white folk while I'm still standing here!"

She immediately said "Oh no, no,no,no it was nothing like that! A friend of mine recently married a white guy and was just telling them how well they are doing together... really!!"

All the cooks  started to chuckle. The server was laughing as well, still insisting she wasn't talking about me.

Then as I walked out of the kitchen to go home, slowly shook my head but smiled at her,  and said ...

"Puta please!!"

I've never heard cooks laugh so hard or much and enjoyed making them laugh after such a really, really tough but successful shift. The server was cracking up as well.

Here's the thing...

When you work in a great restaurant, you're  all Familia.

Simply said, there are good people and bad people in this world. Nothing else about them really matters.


I'm not the best person in the world, but most certainly not the worst.

I consider not being the worst a compliment, along with my graying hair and wrinkles, feeling like I've earned all three...sometimes the hard way.

I think Tim may (most probably) sometimes think to himself, "What the hell was I thinking when I asked this crazy woman to marry me?"

I have a pretty quick wit and sharp sarcasm seems to come easily to me. Both are excellent tools of survival in this world we live in today.

I'll point a finger at wrong doings in a heartbeat and extend a hand to help the wronged just as quickly. We need and have to support each, other instead of tear each other apart.

Tim married his complete opposite. Together, we complete each other. That's a total package. 

It's been a long journey for us. We nearly lost everything; after twenty years of living on easy street...to almost ending up on skid row with our three young'uns forced to watch their parents' debacle of feeling like failures. 

In hindsight, think our three kids needed to witness our fail...and ultimate survival.

Our kids learned, at the exact time in life they needed to,  how life can simply change on a dime. They saw how quickly comforts, taken for granted can be taken away. They learned they may have to fight like crazy but also to never, ever give up.

It was the single greatest lesson Tim and I could  have ever taught them about navigating life.

They have seen our struggle and they have seen us survive. They have been taught to be accepting of others, whether it be with help from or learning to help others.

More poignantly put:

This world needs to stop hating because of race, religion, immigration status or Tweets. As I said before, what matters more is whether you are a good person or a bad person.

Good things happen to good people.

Bad people are the minority in this world, it's time for us to show them who's in charge...and certainly isn't them.

That's the minority we need to be worried about.

Live your life as if there was no tomorrow, because it is never gauranteed.

Be the best person you can and always strive to be a better one.

That is the single thing you can do to help the world beat the evil odds.


Till next time...

COTTON

Normalcy

Being normal has never been my forte'. I kinda like being me. It seems to work out good for me, or has for fifty six years now.

I can usually find humor in most any situation. It's also served me well in the workplace. I think pretty much everyone I work with, at least doesn't cringe when they see my name on the floor plan or my name on the section of tables next to theirs.

I'm a slow but tedious learner when starting a new job and the main reason why I dread changing jobs. Being a server is simply being in sales and marketing for a living.

To be successful you first have to work in a place that markets a really great product, then obtain the knowledge and skills it takes to sell that product.

It's not just waitressing anymore.

I have progressively worked my way up the product ladder and increased my skills, sales and pay with each move I've made.

I've been very fortunate over the years to have several mentors who helped me tremendously to hone my skills and craft. I've come a long way from my first waitress gig at Red Lobster in the late seventies.

A wise manager of mine once put it this way, when talking to us on his last day working with the company.

Every shift you work is a chance to do an even better job to make even more money, and (bonus points) walk out the door with it in your pocket when you clock out.


I like rolling with those kind of odds.

I guess you could also call me a professional gambler. Trust me I've crapped out a few times as well.

It tends to make me keep my own self in check.

Every shift is an opportunity, and depends on how you choose to use that opportunity. Do you hit every mark, do you anticipate their needs and do something before they even have to ask? Do you connect with every guest, do you allow them to have a "wow" experience? Do you make them leave feeling like they want to come back again and again...and more importantly, ask for you to be their server?


True fact. If you're not making good enough money as a server, chances are you're not doing a good enough job.

I started out selling frozen seafood and moved up to selling five star dining. Not bad for a gal who's not normal.


I've said it many times before but is still totally true. If I was half the wife and mother, that I am a server, would be rocking this world like nobody's bidness.

You need to find your passion in life. Lucky for me, I found mine.

It's served me well...huge pun intended.

For the first time in a decade, we're in a good financial place and happen to be living it out in the Sunshine State.

Fall has finally made its way to central Florida and makes me think about home, my Georgia home. While I miss it, can always go back to visit...and I do.

Seems I'm good as long as I go back about three times a year and know it's still there for me as well.

Life is a journey. Life is a gift. Life is what you make of it, despite the odds you are given at any given time.

You are born with a blank slate, an empty page of life which you will fill out yourself.

Make your life a great story.

Surround yourself with people you love and people who love you.

No one has had a more effed up but unbelievably luckier life than me, and am grateful for every step of this journey, with all its twists and seemingly impossible turns.

I don't want to jinx myself, but think I've finally hit my stride and propelling myself into a pretty secure future.

                                          Life always looks better from this side of the dirt.



Demons are out there and sometimes even within you. Choose your battles and come out swinging.

You can be a fighter or a quitter.

Fighting serves me better, but then again, I'm not normal.

Sometimes being not normal helps.

Sometimes  seeing the bigger picture helps you figure out the smaller one.

Tramps like me...baby we were born to run.

And I will.

Till next time...COTTON

Fall Finally Fell

Less than a week to go until November and it finally dropped below eighty five degrees here in Orlando. We've been living here for over a year now and still have never turned the heat on in our house. Actually we've never turned the A/C off either. We keep it set on seventy four and around the end of January it doesn't kick on very often but kicks right back on around the first couple of weeks of February.

It was a beautiful breezy day here and sixty eight degrees when I went into work tonight at six fifteen. I got home from work shortly before midnight and was fifty eight degrees.

Fall finally fell.

If only palm tree leaves changed color, I'd be happy as a clam. The beautiful fall colors are the only thing I miss about the changing seasons. Georgia is truly beautiful when all the leaves change there.

 The maple tree in our old front yard is probably hitting that beautiful peak point right about now.


I think the weather is my favorite thing about living in central Florida. I always dreaded winter in  Georgia; it was my least favorite season of  the year.

Seems ironic considering I've suffered from hot flashes for the past decade.

Fall and winter are a bit different here. Instead of having to pull out sweaters and coats, I switch from tank tops to short sleeved tee shirts, then eventually to long sleeved ones, then have to wear long pants for two or three weeks. I keep one heavy sweater handy for winter (which lasts about fourteen days) and have to wear tennis shoes instead of flip flops.

All true facts.

It's a done deal, we're living here in Florida now and don't plan on leaving any time soon. When I go back up to Georgia for Christmas this year at my sister's house, am taking most of my heavy winter clothing with me to donate to the Salvation Army and Goodwill. I don't need four winter coats anymore, or twenty heavy sweaters. but someone in Georgia does. I have too many spare comforters and blankets, hats and scarves and gloves.

I'm keeping a nice long coat my brother gave me with a zip out lining and my jacket. I've had my Harley jacket since the early eighties (bought it for twenty bucks) and fits me like a snug glove. It's a keeper.

May as well put all the others to good use and help someone else out who needs them.

It will also help with our next moving purge.

I'm excited to say we are also now close enough and actively searching for a house to buy here. Our tiny rental experience has been great and had an excellent landlord but can't wait to have our own house and bring my Johnny Dear down here to cut my own grass again. We've narrowed our search to two locations and look forward to moving the Spring of 2018.

For all we've been and gone through over the past decade; for all the highs and especially the lows...are still some of the luckiest peeps on this planet.

It's made me realize how important the values of family, friends, commitment and determination are.



I still struggle with the feelings of  moving away from my entire life, but was something we simply needed to do to not only survive but succeed in our life.

I think Dr. Seuss said it best:

We were broken, and struggled for more years than I care to remember. We were also lifted by love, compassion and totally helped through the storm.

 Uncle Pont (my dad's brother) had a favorite song.

 He almost looked liked Diddy's twin.

Pont died from a massive heart attack on the tennis courts while playing with friends of his own son, Shad, who also died decades later while taking a nap on his own couch.

Us Leach peeps seem to be lucky enough to take the express checkout and is the most fabulous way to go in life. Live hard, fight right and go quickly.

Here's to Uncle Pont.

His favorite song.

Take the bad that life throws at you and roll with it. Be a good person and good people will love and help you survive.

It may sound simplistic, perhaps crass but totally true... whether male or female, and the best lesson in life:

Don't be a dick.

Till next time...COTTON