Show some sympathy for those poor, lowly paid beleaguered clerks

They’re probably not to blame. Look, they’re usually struggling figures who all too often have to face self-entitled a-holes at the checkout counter or their equally crushed managers overhead. Here are a few things they’d love to tell you or maybe the offender before you or even their bosses.

Yes, here’s what they’d really love to say.

  1. “Let’s trade places. I’ll be the rude one, and you try to stay patient.”
  2. “If only our coffee was as strong as your attitude!”
  3. “Your tone is getting a price tag.”
  4. “Customers like you really test our ‘service with a smile’ policy.”
  5. “Your points would be more valid if they were less veiled in rudeness.”
  6. “We’re here to serve, not to be served attitude.”
  7. “Your words are as sweet as a lemon. Sarcasm intended.”
  8. “We promise fast service, not a tolerance for fast insults.”
  9. “You’ve mistaken my patience for a dumping ground.”
  10. “Have a nice day, somewhere else.”

While we’re at it, let’s go for a second round.

  1. “I appreciate your perspective, but rudeness is an extra charge we didn’t agree upon.”
  2. “Your impatience is understandable. Is it as urgent as your need for a manners refresher?”
  3. “Don’t worry, we charge by the item, not by the attitude.”
  4. “The ‘customer is always right’ policy doesn’t cover personal attacks. Please read the fine print.”
  5. “Did you mistake this conversation for an auction? Because you’re really bidding high on rudeness.”
  6. “We provide services, not psychic readings. Kindly state your problem, not your tantrum.”
  7. “Our products come with a warranty, but our tolerance for rudeness does not.”
  8. “Patience is a virtue, but it seems your cart is empty.”
  9. “The complaint box is for suggestions, not character assassinations.”
  10. “In our store, ‘sale’ applies to items, not civility.”

Or even a third.

  1. “We value customer feedback, but your rudeness is more of a monologue than a dialogue.”
  2. “Our goal is customer satisfaction, not ego inflation.”
  3. “Let me put you back into the waiting line.” However many hours that means.
  4. “Our service may be fast, but ‘instant respect’ isn’t on our menu.”
  5. “Our prices are competitive, but our patience isn’t limitless.”
  6. “We accept all major credit cards, but we don’t accept rudeness.”
  7. “This is a business, not a battlefield. Let’s keep the conversation civil.”
  8. “This is a store, not a stage. Kindly lower the drama.”
  9. Merry Christmas to you, too. And a *** New Year.
  10. Expletives deleted.

To see where you live, just listen to an artist

I very much feel the vibrations of particular places, to the point that they become unacknowledged characters in my fiction and poetry. I know I’m not alone, even among writers.

Visual artists are also engaged in observing closely and progressing beyond, if they may. Some are not shy about acknowledging their insights, either.

For a few examples, let’s start by turning to Jamie Wyeth’s commenting about Mohegan Island and then venture from there.

  1. “You look at most paintings of gulls and they look like doves. If you really look at a gull, it is a beautiful bird, but it is a scavenger. It’s a mean, tough bird. To me they’re the sea more than anything else. The eye of a gull, you could paint a million seascapes and you don’t get the same sense of those eyes looking at you. They’re reptilian really.” Where I live, gulls are inescapable, even when you’d rather they weren’t.
  2. As for living surrounded by water: “Houses on the island are of as much interest as the people. They’re hanging on as tenuously as the people are. Unlike buildings in Pennsylvania which almost grow out of the earth, I always feel that if a big wind comes, everything would be just swept away.” I’ve already posted on this, looking at the town’s gable-style Capes. No wonder I tremble under a heavy wind, as I did in March so long ago in Ohio!
  3. “The danger with Maine is that it is so anecdotal and emblematic in terms of pretty houses, pretty lobster traps — ‘quaint’ things. Maine is not that way. Maine has a lot of edge, a lot of angst.”
  4. On blue sea glass: “Maine people must have drunk an inordinate amount of Milk of Magnesia.” I don’t think we need to go there.
  5. Taos Pueblo/Dine illustrator and designer Margeaux Abeyta also delivers some specifics: “I can’t count the times my father and I would take the long drive from Santa Fe to Gallup just for mutton sandwiches. … Every now and then we’d come across a perfect sky – a deep cobalt blue with rays of cerulean and clouds growing ever toward us as we drove under their long-cast shadows. They moved with one another in an effort to graze the land. Months later, I would recall our drive, lined on the canvas walls of his messy studio. He had documented that very day, an immortalized memory. Looking at across the room at half-finished canvases filled with underbrush of color, I saw the manifestations of a life lived. In this way, it became his own, his way to have a discourse with the world. Tracing back each part of himself, conversations and feelings embedded into each stroke, his very world as he dreamed it.” I must admit getting goosebumps just transcribing that rich passage. But she has more:
  6. “When my grandmother would take me chokecherry picking deep in the shaded paths, we would lift the bottoms of our blouses to hold the berries, staining the cotton with maroon impressions. While hauling home our treasures, she told stories of her own childhood. When she and her friends would walk the same trails only to be met by an old brown bear, quickly they ran, as gems of red fell from their hands, rolling down the hill behind them. I would look back into that shaded path where berries grew and feel the immense power of this strange world. Falling back beside my grandmother, I knew I was safe in this place she called home.” I am awed by how much deep memories of color inflect emotions here. The red could as easily be blood.
  7. Now for Alex Katz on his work done in New York City and Maine: “My paintings take all kinds of light. I’ve done a lot of night paintings, and twilight, and morning paintings. I think when people paint the same light all the time, it gets a little monotonous.” Do you ever think about the light where you live? Or the ways it inflects the colors your life?
  8. British painter Clare Thatcher returns to that connection of color to emotion: “I select a palette I have felt when at the location. My line drawings in charcoal or pencil suggest color to me. I aim to capture the mood and sensation that transports me back there.” What are the colors of where you’re living?
  9. For a bit of historical dimension, we have French master of the au plein Jean-Baptist Camille Corot: “I am struck upon seeing a certain place. While I strive for conscientious imitation, I yet never for an instant lose the emotion that has taken hold of me.” That points us back to the vibe.
  10. Nick Bantock, meanwhile, looks at another kind of color: “Art is like therapy; what comes up is what comes up. It may be dark, but that’s what comes up. You may want to keep some of it in a drawer … but never judge it.

Well, I am trying to think of what would have been representative of my native Ohio or neighboring Indiana as well as what would have emotionally internalized as a result. I’ve been much more aware in my moves since, as a poet and as a novelist.

As Aristotle said, “The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.” And also, Edward Hopper’s, “If I could say it in words there would be no reason to paint.” Or, for me, to write.

Popcorn goes way back in antiquity

Last year I presented a Double Tendrils about the popular and seemingly ubiquitous snack of popcorn. Quite simply, it’s not just for watching movies. And around this time of year, we start eating more. Not only that, but it turns out to be a uniquely American contribution to the world’s cuisine.

The topic simply overflowed so much that we didn’t have room for tidbits about its deep history.

So here goes with ten related factoids that pop up on that front.

  1. Try to think of a more purely American food than popcorn. Whether salted or buttered at a movie theatre, or as kettle corn at a county fair or a caramel popcorn ball come the holidays, we hoover it up, even when we’re not watching movies, OK?
  2. Look, archeologists have found traces of popcorn in 1,000-year-old Peruvian tombs. But it goes back way even earlier.
  3. The first use of wild and then cultivated corn points for now to the Bat Cave of west central New Mexico in 1948. Ranging from smaller than a penny to about two inches, those ears are about 5,600 years old, older than Adam and Eve, for anyone counting.
  4. In tombs on the east coast of Peru, researchers have found grains of popcorn perhaps 1,000 years old. These grains have been so well-preserved that they will still pop.
  5. Popcorn was integral to early 16th century Aztec ceremonies. As Bernardino de Sahagun observed, “And also a number of young women danced, having so vowed, a popcorn dance. As thick as tassels of maize were their popcorn garlands. And these they placed upon (the girls’) heads.” In 1519, Cortes got his first sight of popcorn when he invaded Mexico and came into contact with the Aztecs. Popcorn was an important food for the Aztec natives, who also used popcorn as decoration for ceremonial headdresses, necklaces and ornaments on statues of their gods, including Tlaloc, the god of rain and fertility.
  6. An early Spanish account of a ceremony honoring the Aztec gods who watched over fishermen reads: “They scattered before him parched corn, called momochitl, a kind of corn which bursts when parched and discloses its contents and makes itself look like a very white flower; they said these were hailstones given to the god of water.”
  7. Writing of Peruvian natives in 1650, the Spaniard Cobo said, “They toast a certain kind of corn until it bursts. They call it pisancalla, and they use it as a confection.”
  8. Kernels of popcorn found in burial grounds in the coastal deserts of north Chile were so well preserved they would still pop even though they were 1,000 years old. Likewise, in southwestern Utah, a 1,000-year-old popped kernel of popcorn was found in a dry cave inhabited by predecessors of the Pueblos.
  9. Indigenous Iroquois people in North America were documented popping corn kernels in heated pottery jars near the Great Lakes region in the 1600s.
  10. The first patent for a microwave popcorn bag was issued to General Mills in 1981, and home popcorn consumption increased by tens of thousands of pounds in the years following.

Would I even recognize Seattle now?

In my novel Nearly Canaan, Joshua and Jaya settled into a place unlike anything they would have imagined. It was (and still is) desert, for one thing, where nearly everything has to be irrigated, for another. Quite simply, it’s a lot like Yakima, in the middle of Washington state.

But they did repeatedly visit the Queen City of the Pacific Northwest, over where the endless gray and its rains were. The enlightened residents had a propensity for dark German movies in some unique art film houses, and I doubt that I’d recognize the place if I ever go back. Remember, I left well before “Sleepless in Seattle” or Dr. Frasier Crane’s arrival from Boston, not that I’d been there, either.

That said, here are ten high points to consider.

  1. Unlike most American urban areas, there’s more poverty outside the city limits rather than within them. That probably reflects racial dynamics elsewhere or even gentrification conflicts in older cities.
  2. Seattle has some outstanding opera and symphony experiences. The Wagner’s Ring Cycle in summertime week-long festivals is legendary, even in English. The art museum, meanwhile, is third-rate despite the presence of visually intriguing local artists, at least when I was there.
  3. Yes, it can be gray for six months or more in stretches. Residents simply dodge the ongoing light rain. It can drive some people over the edge, though.
  4. When the clouds break, breathtaking views of the Olympic Range appear to the west and Mount Rainier to the east, the latter of which is technically within Seattle’s metropolitan statistical area covered by the U.S. census. Elk and bears are not enumerated.
  5. The city is the home of Starbucks coffee and the glorious Pike Street vendors’ market.
  6. That said, eat Dungeness crab early and often. It’s a delicacy found from San Francisco north to Alaska, and is at its best before shipping elsewhere.
  7. The U.S. military is a huge economic influence, even before Boeing executives fled for Chicago and the company’s reputation went into decline. Microsoft, meanwhile, keeps booming.
  8. If you visit, ride the ferries that many commuters ride daily. Puget Sound is a very active waterfront. You don’t even have to take your car if you simply want to ride out and back.
  9. I won’t even touch on the history of Grunge etc., but I will recommend wool Pendleton shirts. They’re the choice of the region’s loggers, who know wet “cotton kills.”
  10. I also recall the prevalence of mossy roofs and huge garden slugs.

Sharpen your knives for social occasions

If you’re among those of us who have some reticence or even dread about attending social gatherings where you have to engage in small talk – with strangers, no less – I’m offering this. Admittedly, mostly for my own reference, as needed. Please, please, add to the list when it comes to comments.

Get ready to tell an offending bore:

  1. “It’s hilarious watching you try to fit your entire vocabulary into one sentence.”
  2. “I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.”
  3. “Thanks for sharing your misery. Now just go away.”
  4. “You’re as sharp as a marble.”
  5. “You’re so ugly you make blind kids cry.”
  6. “Your expertise in my life is both unexpected and unnecessary.”
  7. “I don’t have the time or the crayons to explain this to you.”
  8. “If you were twice as smart as you are, you’d be half as smart as you think you are.”
  9. “May you stink forever. Just the way you are.”
  10. “Keep rolling your eyes, and you might find a brain back there.”

If your slicing and dicing of their mental lack of ability doesn’t do the trick, you can turn to their vanity or birth origins.

  1. “You’re not pretty enough to be this stupid.”
  2. “You are depriving some village somewhere of an idiot.”
  3. “Your birth certificate is an apology letter from the condom factory.”
  4. “Your parents are disappointed in you.”
  5. “It was called a jumpoline before your mom jumped on it.”
  6. “You’ll never need birth control with a personality like that.”
  7. “Oh, did the middle of my sentence interrupt the beginning of yours?”
  8. “You’re the reason God created the middle finger.”
  9. “People who tolerate you on a daily basis are real heroes.”
  10. “You should really come with a warning label.”

I really do regret not having these when the character of Cassia was emerging in my novel What’s Left, they’re right up her alley. To continue in what’s becoming my first-ever Triple Tendrils:

  1. “I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m guessing it’s hard to pronounce.”
  2. “You look like something that came out of a slow cooker.”
  3. “I’ll never forget the first time we met. But I’ll keep trying.”
  4. “Please just tell me you don’t plan to home-school your kids.”
  5. “You look like a ‘before’ picture.”
  6. “You’re about as useful as an ashtray on a motorcycle.”
  7. “I’ve seen people like you before, but I had to pay admission.”
  8. “If you’re going to be two-faced, at least make one of them pretty.”
  9. “You are proof that evolution can go in reverse.” Or, “I believed in evolution until I met you.”
  10. “I hope your wife brings a date to your funeral.”

I suspect this just touches the surface of what’s exchanged on the scrimmage line of professional football games.

Besides, please remember, when somebody says, “Where have I seen you before?,” just reply, “I’m a porn star.” Or at least, “Was.”