The Key - Part 2

We pulled into the post office parking lot and I handed the key to Terry. “You check.

I’m done.” For me this whole thing was just one big waste of time. She took the key and jumped

out of the car. I turned the radio on and zoned out, not expecting any better news than we had

 earlier in the day.

A couple minutes later Terry walked out with a medium size cardboard box in her hands

and a huge smile on her face. She opened the car door and said, “I told you.”

“How come you didn’t open it?”

“I’m waiting until we get home.” She couldn’t keep from smiling. “This is so much fun.”

As I pulled into the garage, Terry had opened the car door ready to jump out as soon as

we stopped. She ran inside with the box. By the time I got in the house, the packing was strewn

all over kitchen floor.

“What is it?” I anxiously asked.

“You won’t believe it.” She stared intensely and seemed to be mesmerized by it’s

contents.

I stepped across the kitchen to take a peek. “Hmm! Looks like something from Pier One.

They carry all those hard-to-find gifts that no one ever buys.” 

“Magnificent!” She carefully removed it and set it on the table. “It’s old.”

“No. It’s made to look old.” I crossed my arms. “Of course, this makes perfect sense. I

should have guessed.”

Terry held it up like a trophy. “How many wishes do you think we’ll get?”

“Oh! You think it’s a magic lamp like Aladdin’s.”

“Well, look at it. What else could it be?”

“Decoration for some gypsy’s house.” I smirked. “Go ahead, rub it to see what happens.”

“Okay, I will.” Terry closed her eyes as if that would make a difference and gently

rubbed the lamp while waiting for a genie to appear.

I twirled around, snapped my fingers and said “Poof!” I bowed and said, “I’m Harvey,

your genie. You have three wishes my dear. Use them wisely.”

“Harvey? That’s a terrible name for a genie.”

“Careful, I can make it two.”

“No. No. I apologize. Harvey, is a great name.” Terry curtsied.

I nodded. “What is your first wish, my dear?”

“My first wish is for me. Help me be authentic, generous and spontaneous. I want to

travel to Paris in a private jet and have an elegant dinner prepared by celebrity chef, Gordon

Ramsay.”

“Whoa! You might be confused as to what one wish includes. First of all, we don’t make

changes to your personality. Being authentic, generous and spontaneous doesn’t qualify as

a valid wish. The Paris thing in a private jet and the elegant dinner prepared by Gordan Ramsay

is over the top. Pick one and don’t be greedy!”

“Okay, so sorry. How about an elegant dinner at my home prepared by my celebrity genie

Harvey?”

“Now you’re talkin’. Your wish is granted.”

“Great. When is it? Tonight.? What are we having? Seafood please.”

“Hold on. Give me a minute. You just finished wishing.”

“I know, but I need to put it in my planner, now.”

‘Hmm! It’s a shame patience is a personality change.”

“What about my second wish?”

“Oh! You want to do them all today? I thought you might want to wait on the other two.”

“No, I know what I want. My second wish is for my husband. He hardly works and has a

lot of spare time. Help me find him a hobby.”

“Do you mean he works hard?”

“No, I said what I said.”

“Okay then. That is still a generous wish. It is granted.”

“So, what’s his hobby?”

“You’ll have to wait and see. Be patient. You know what that is, right?”

“My third wish is for my mom. She lives alone, and I’m afraid she may get lonely, so I

want her to have a companion she can trust who could also entertain her in an annoying way.”

“Excellent idea. She does like sarcastic humor. This is also a very generous wish. You

seem to be very authentic. Your wish is granted.

I’ll be leaving now but let me know how things worked out.”

“How will I get a hold of you?” Terry asked.

“Just whistle. You know how to do that, right?”

She smiled. “Yes, put your lips together and blow.” Terry sauntered off, tilted her head

and flipped her hair in my direction.

I touched my rear with two fingers, pretended to blow out the flames, then gave her a two

fingered wave as I left the kitchen. 

* * * 

Later that night I was making dinner, a casual no frills meal, when my wife walked in.

“Oh! Dinner.” Terry leaned over and sniffed. “Do I need to get dressed?”

“You are dressed.”

Terry put her hands on her hips. “No. I mean in my fancy clothes?”

“You can. It’s up to you.”

She put her hands together. “Oh! What are we having?”

I held up a tasting spoon. “Hot dogs and beans.”

“That’s not fancy.”

“We’ve got cloth napkins.”

 “You were supposed to make me an elegant dinner.” Terry frowned and crossed her

arms. “It was my first wish.”

“I know, but it’s tomorrow night. I never said it was tonight.” I picked up a ladle. “Hey,

you’ll want some beans with your hot dog. They have some big bacon chunks in them.”

“Well, sure and no reservations needed.”

I took off work the next day so I could immerse myself in the preparation of the elegant

meal for my wife. The market had all the essential ingredients I needed which included the 

appetizer, salad, main course and dessert. I bought them all plus a chef’s hat which I had

embroidered with Chef Harvey across the top. It was the perfect addition to my outfit. 

It was a fun evening. My wife was all dolled up in her finest dress with color coordinated

shoes and purse. I grabbed the best sweatshirt that I could find from the clean basket ironed it.

Yay for me. “Why did you bring your purse? You know I won’t be charging you.”

“I know, but it completes the outfit.” Terry held her purse up to show me. “Your outfit is

perfect. That red sweatshirt really sets off your bloodshot eyes.”

“Thanks for noticing.” I smiled. “Tonight, our appetizer comes to you direct from Chile,

jumbo shrimp sautéed in white wine with green chiles. Tender and tangy but delightful.” I set the

plates on the table and snapped a napkin then laid it on Terry’s lap. 

“Wow, this looks really good.”

“Thanks, it was the best frozen appetizer Schnucks carried.” 

“Woohoo! Aren’t I special.”

We sat and talked while we dined on the shrimp. “You know jumbo shrimp is one of

those descriptions that shouldn’t be.”

Terry took a bite. “Yes. I agree. Maybe we should refer to them as extremely robust.”

“I like that. From now on we’ll call them robust shrimp.” I stood and walked to the

counter to get the salads I previously prepared. As I set Terry’s bowl in front of her, she picked

up a fork and scooped out a crouton.

“What kind of salad is this?”

“Oh! This is a Harvey salad. It’s like a Ceasar salad only different.”

“How is it different?”

“Well it’s made by Harvey instead of Ceasar.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

We sat and leisurely enjoyed our Harvey salads. I explained our main course requires

special handling and special equipment. I went to the garage and brought in a fire extinguisher,

and set it on the table.

“Well, this should be interesting.”

“Yes, I think I can guarantee that.” I rolled a cart over to the table containing a

portable burner to pan fry the steak. “Tonight, we are having Steak Diane. The final step in the

preparation is to light the cognac which will burn off the alcohol. Hence, the fire extinguisher.”

“Yummy and who is Diane?”

“It’s just the name of the dish. I don’t know the history of it. For tonight let’s call it

Steak Terry.” 

“I love that!”

I was pleased to serve the steaks without any mishaps. They looked delicious. I hoped 

they tasted half as good.

Terry took a bite. “The steak is very tender . . . Is it supposed to taste like lighter fluid?”

“It is not.” I bent over to smell the steak. “Does yours taste like lighter fluid?”

“No, but you put something in that portable burner.”

“Butane, it’s odorless and tasteless.”

“You would only know that if you tasted it. Did you?”

“No, butane is not a regular part of my diet.” I smiled. “No, really, how is your steak?”

“It’s terrific.” Terry giggled. “I love Steak Butane.” 

I rolled my eyes. Once we finished the main course, I went to get the dessert. “Tonight,

we will be having Gordan Ramsay’s favorite dessert, Sticky Toffee Pudding.”

“Oh! That sounds wonderful.” Terry smacked her lips.

“I watched a YouTube video. The whole process only took ten minutes.”

“Wow! How long did it take you?”

“Huh!”  I shrugged. “Twenty, then eighteen, then finally seventeen.”

“You cooked three batches.”

“Well, I had to make sure they tasted good.”

“And did they?”

“See for yourself.” I set the dessert plates on the table each adorned with a chocolate

covered strawberry”.

“It looks delicious.” Terry took a bite. “Wow, this is terrific.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” I winked. “So, how was your first wish?”

“I couldn’t ask for more. You’re the best, Chef Harvey.” Terry took another bite of the

pudding. “Tomorrow, is my second wish.”

* * * 

The Key - Part 1

This is a long short story so it is split into 3 parts. I hope you enjoy reading it.

 

The Key

 

My wife, Terry, walked in while I was relaxing in my recliner and searching the Internet and

asked. “Did you hear the mailman?”

“I wasn’t paying attention, but you can look on the Ring camera.”

“Never mind. I’ll just go check.” She walked to the front door and opened it. “

“That’s great, but I don’t know why you bother.” I shrugged. “It’s mostly junk mail.”

“There could be some sales I don’t want to miss.” 

“Of course!” I leaned back in the recliner and continued my Internet search.

She came back in waving the mail like she just won an Olympic medal.

“Anything good?” I asked.

“Mostly junk, but there’s one letter for you. It’s marked Confidential.” She pulled it out

of the stack and tossed it to me. “It feels like there’s something in it.”

I opened it up and sure enough there was a key taped to the letter. It wasn’t a house key

but some kind of locker key. It was stamped with the number 217-S, and someone had dabbed a

blob of red paint on it. I turned toward my wife and said, “There’s a key. It looks like it’s for a

locker. You know, like from a bowling alley, skating rink, or an airport locker.”

“Is there a message or instruction about what you should do with the key?”

I handed her the letter. “The message is vague and cryptic.”

Terry read the message, “The treasure is behind the locked door. This is the key to

happiness. Find the door and you will understand.” 

“Interesting, but I’m sure it’s a scam,” I insisted.

“So, what are you going to do?”

I held up the envelope with the key. “Trash day tomorrow, right?’

“Yes.”

“It’s a scam. I’m going to throw it out.”

“You’re so distrusting,” Terry said.

“It’s the world we live in.” I walked outside and threw it in the trash, then 

took the bin to the curb for pick up the next morning.

That evening we had friends over. While playing cards my wife brought up the letter. Our

friends thought it was intriguing and questioned my actions about tossing it in the trash. They

thought it would have been interesting to see how it played out, but I would not be swayed from

my belief.

The next morning at breakfast I heard the trash truck. When I finished my coffee, I

went to get the empty can. I opened the lid, just to check. There has been a time or two when

they passed us by. It was empty, except for the envelope stuck in the bottom. I tilted the bin and

reached in and pulled it out. Really, imagine that. Terry is going to make a big deal out of this.

Like it’s a sign. Hmm! Maybe I won’t show it to her. She’ll never know.

I walked in the house with it in my hand. When I saw Terry standing by the refrigerator,

I tried to hide it in my pocket, but I was too slow. 

“Hi Hon. Whatcha got there?”

I knew I was busted. “It got stuck in the bottom . . .  but it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure, whatever you say, dear.”

“I’ll take it to the office and throw it in their trash. This is ridiculous. I just want to be

done with it.” I grabbed my jacket and walked toward the door.

“Have a nice day, Sweetie.”

“Thanks dear. I’ll bring some Chinese home for dinner tonight.”

Terry waved. “Great! Don’t forget the fortune cookies.”

First thing I did when I got to the work was to throw the envelope in the office trash. It’ll

 Be gone by noon. My morning was busy with a new project. It was lunch before I knew it.

When I came back to my desk, I noticed my trash can had been emptied. Finally, it’s gone. Our

regular afternoon meeting ran over, so I was late getting back to my desk. I grabbed my jacket,

when I saw the envelope on my desk with a note attached. It was from the custodian, It read,

“This letter must have accidentally fallen into the trash. It seems important, so I retrieved it for

you.”

I snatched the letter from my desk and shoved it into my pocket. The key was still in

there. My phone chimed to remind me to pick up Chinese for dinner. I punched in the number

and ordered shrimp fried rice, Crab Rangoon, General Tso mild. I like it spicy, but Terry doesn’t,

so I order it mild then I put Cayenne pepper on mine. Oh! Yeah . . . fortune cookies. I didn’t want

to forget those. I tried to ignore my thoughts of the key,  but my mind kept circling back to it. I 

stopped at Asian 101 for my order then headed home, just a mile away.

After parking the car in the garage, I went into the kitchen and set the food and the

envelope on the table. Terry had poured herself a glass of tea. “Would you like some?”

“No, I’m going to have a beer.” I opened the fridge and grabbed a Tiger beer, made in

Singapore. Lately I’ve been buying specialty beers.

“Everything good?” Terry reached for the bag of Chinese but grabbed the envelope and

held it up. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m a little annoyed.” Pointing to the envelope she was holding. “That keeps following

me. I can’t get rid of it.”

“It’s a sign.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” I frowned. “No, it’s just a coincidence.”

“Aren’t you curious?” She opened the envelope and took the key out “Let’s see if we can

figure out what kind of locker this opens.” She held the key up, inspected it and then dangled it 

in front of me. “I’m leaning toward airport locker. What do you think?”

“Why would you say airport?” I reached out and took the key. “For all I know it could be

a safety deposit box.” 

“Oh! That could be. I’d love it to be a safety deposit box.” Terry drummed her

fingers on the table. “It’s probably too many numbers for a bowling alley or a skating rink but

not an airport.”

“Well, it doesn’t mean the numbers would start at one. They could start at 100 or 200.

Any number really.” I flipped it over, looking for name. “The letter is puzzling. What’s the

significance?”

Terry opened the shrimp fried rice and scooped some on a plate, then snatched a Crab

Rangoon. She slid the bag over to me. “I’m going to eat while we discuss the key.”

“Good idea.” I dished some General Tso onto my plate, and opened a packet of cayenne

pepper. “You know, as much as I want it to be a safety deposit key, it’s unlikely. Identification

would be required to open it.”

“True and don’t most keys from bowling alley lockers have those plastic caps on

them.” Terry picked up a fortune cookie. “This key looks fairly new, so it hasn’t had a lot of

use.”

“Yeah! So, we should probably eliminate skating rinks and bowling alleys.” I dug in the 

bag and pulled out a Crab Rangoon and a fortune cookie. “So, that leaves bus, train or airport.

What about a post office box?”

“Hmm, that could be. All you need is a key, no identification required.” Terry opened her

fortune cookie. “Listen to this.” She held the fortune up to read. “Life is limitless with the right 

key.”

“Okay, another coincidence.” I shook my head. “I’m not letting a fortune cookie

determine my life choices.” 

“Go ahead open yours.”

“Fine.” I cracked it open and pulled out the fortune then read it. “Your wife is crazy. You

should be careful.”

“No, it doesn’t say that.” She grabbed it from me and read it aloud.” Any key is worth

trying. Opportunity could be knocking.” Terry put her hands on her hips and said, “See! What do

you say now, smarty pants?”

“I want a second opinion.” I reached in the bag and found another fortune cookie.

 Terry grabbed it out of my hand. 

“I can’t trust you.” She held it up to her eyes. “You only get a few chances in life, don’t

pass them by.” She smiled. “You can’t ignore these messages. We have to try to figure

this out.”

“I still think it’s going to be a waste of time, but I’ll give you a few days.”

Terry giggled and clapped her hands. “Yeah! Come on. Let’s go to the airport.”

“So, you’re convinced we’ll find the locker there?” I stood up. “Don’t get your hopes up,

it could be in schools, amusement parks or any public place.” 

“It’s the airport.” Terry picked up her jacket. “I’ll bet you.”

“Bet me?” I took out my keys. “Why? You never pay up.” I laughed. “You owe me 

thousands from all the bets we’ve made.”.

“Come on! Just a nickel. That shouldn’t break you.”

“Ok, fine, but if you lose, I want my nickel.”

As we made our way to the airport, I pointed out all the places that could have lockers.

There were a couple prime locations to find lockers at the airport like the baggage area, and main

terminal. We weren’t allowed on the concourse, because we didn’t have tickets, so it seemed an

unlikely location. The numbering system didn’t match our key, plus the airport lockers were

expensive.  

After having no luck finding the right locker, we left the airport. Terry had lost the

perkiness in her stride.

“Hey, you owe me a nickel.” I held out my hand. “I’m not going anywhere until I get my

money.”

“I don’t have any change.” She winked. “I’ll pay you later.”

“Yeah, no.”

Terry took out her wallet. And handed me a dollar bill. “Now, you owe me ninety-five

 cents.”

I waved the dollar bill at her. “I’ll just consider it payment of a previous debt.” 

“You’re such a jerk.” As we walked to the car, Terry asked, ”Where are we going next?”

We passed a storage place, hotel, bus station and the post office. “Let’s check those out, 

after we get some lunch.”

“You pay, because you owe me ninety-five cents.”

“Of course, honey.”

We pulled into Panera’s and ordered two sandwiches, two lemonades and a pumpkin

muffie. The bill was twenty-eight dollars. For lunch! “Well, I assume my ninety-five cents 

debt is paid?”

“Lunch comes out of a different pot of money. So, no.” She pointed down the street. 

“Let’s go looking for more lockers.”

We stopped at three more places on the way home but found nothing. I was ready to call

it quits but Terry said. “One more, please.”

We pulled into the post office parking lot and I handed the key to Terry. 

My Activity Window is Shrinking

Things change constantly through life. It’s something we are used to, so much so that we hardly notice it. We have learned to adapt to changes without missing a step, because in most cases the changes seem insignificant. But as we get older the changes are more noticeable. Things we did routinely when we were younger are more difficult now and our window of activity has decreased.

     When we were young we were in constant motion never wanting to slow down, but now we welcome those moments to kick back and relax. In the past our window of activity seemed endless, but it has diminished to a much smaller segment of our day, sometimes requiring a nap to regenerate our energy level.

     Our desire to be involved is still present, although it’s more subdued, sometimes just the enjoyment of watching others, brings the same joy as participation once did. Just because Papa can’t run like he used to, doesn’t mean his mind isn’t imagining running right next to you.

     So when you see someone lagging behind, know that once they were leading the charge. “Just Saying . . .”

Cocktail sauce, you moron

Relationships are not easy because we all take things in different ways. Some people are super sensitive while others let comments roll off their back. I guess that’s people, we’re all different and so are our responses. I’m not saying one is right and another is wrong, but when you have a sensitive person joined with someone who’s not, there may be problems. 

     After almost 50 years of marriage my wife and I fall into the, let things roll off our back group. It works for us and makes for some funny conversations. Sometimes one of us stumbles to find the right words, but the other person is always there to help.

     “Hey, do we have any of that red sauce, you know it’s a little spicy . . . horseradish. I think it has horseradish in it. You use it on shrimp. It’s . . .?”

     “Cocktail sauce, you moron.”

     Laughing. “Ah! Yes, cocktail sauce.”

     Interesting in that neither one of us is surprised or offended by this comment because it’s funny, sarcastic but funny. Although, it’s probably not something you would say to a stranger. Imagine being in a grocery store and a man and a woman discussing this red sauce for shrimp. You might chuckle inside, but you would politely say, “cocktail sauce” without the moron comment. 

     Humor makes life more interesting but it’s important to know your audience. “Just Saying . . .”   

Jiggle the Handle

That’s just the way it is. Sometimes you have to jiggle the handle. Everything is not perfect in life nor should it be. If we expected perfection in everything we do very little would get done. Very often answers and improvements are found in the mistakes. 

     There are times when perfection should be the goal, like a space launch with astronauts aboard, but even those perfect launches have there imperfect moments. I’m sure while in flight some switch or lever doesn’t work as originally designed, but do the seasoned pilots fret. No, because they have experience dealing with these type of problems. There are many engineers in Houston supporting them with alternate solutions, but sometimes it just comes down to jiggling the handle. I can easily imagine an astronaut jiggling a handle, then exclaiming “It’s fixed.”

     We all have experienced minor problems when we jiggled the handle and got a positive result. I guess what I’m saying is live your life to your best, but don’t despair when things aren’t perfect. Sometimes you need to be satisfied with  “jiggle the handle” results. “Just Saying . . .”

How Common is Common Sense?

What’s wrong with people? Don’t they have any common sense? I’ve heard this said many times. I’ve said this recently, but it made me wonder. Is there such a thing as common sense that is truly common to everyone in the world? The term, common sense, implies that it’s knowledge known worldwide. It’s common, therefore everyone should be aware of it.

     Common sense is a learned ability. A newborn doesn’t have it. They learn that fire is hot, ice is cold and a knife is sharp. They can learn this the hard way or the easy way, but after awhile this falls into the category of common sense.

     If you live in a household that doesn’t have electricity, you might not know that sticking a metal object in an electric outlet will give you a shock. To most people this is common knowledge, therefore your common sense tells you not to do this.

    Your upbringing, experience and social status contributes to what you believe is common sense. It all comes down to what is common among the entire world population. The only things common among all the people of the world are our basic needs: food, water, shelter and self preservation. Common sense is not included in our basic needs.

     If you agree that common sense is a learned ability then, you will understand that it’s different for each of us because we have had unique learning experiences. Men and women with the same background will have a different common sense. So what I’m saying is there is really no such thing as common sense because we are all different. We should call it, good sense. If it’s good, then it makes sense to do it.

    There are people that chose to ignore their good sense. We may have all done this at times. It’s when you do something, then say to yourself. Well, that was stupid. Each time you throw your good sense to the curb, you increase your chances to unlearn this sense.

    Although the question about common sense sounds simple, I believe it’s more complex than it seems. So from now on when I wonder why someone doesn’t have any common sense, I’ll need to consider their background, upbringing or if their just making bad choices. If it’s my next door neighbor with a similar background then my initial question maybe valid, but if it’s someone in a foreign country or even the kid living in the inner city my judgement could be off.

     These are my personal beliefs so you are free to disagree. Your opinion is valuable to me. If mine is welcomed by you then we have that in common. “Just Saying . . . “
   

Smart Food

We were at the grocery store yesterday doing our weekly shopping. I noticed ground chicken was advertised as organic smart chicken. I understand that organic means free range and no antibiotics, but I’m struggling with the term smart chicken. Especially, when it’s now in the ground meat section of the grocery store.

     Doesn’t seem like it was smart enough since it didn’t evade the meat market. Maybe the chicken needed more smart water. I’ve always associated smart with intelligence, but apparently my thinking is skewed because you can buy many different foods that are labeled smart. Interesting that it started with smart popcorn. Who knew popcorn would garner the the term smart as a moniker?

     We have many smart devices these days including phones, TV’s, plugs, doorbells, light bulbs, etc. but smart seems to be more appropriate for those than they are to food.  Smart foods imply healthy, but I guess smart is a more marketable word, so they changed the definition. Of course, why not screw with the English language, no one will notice. Many of the smart foods are snacks, so not typically on the healthy chart. Eating healthy is smart, but I question that eating snacks are smart, so if we call them smart snacks that makes them okay.

     I snack now and then, but I don’t think I’m any smarter because of it. You might be a smart-aleck or smarty-pants, but you probably came by that naturally. “Just Saying . . .”