Let's Don't Go Krogering

I've been working on a post recounting the Holidays but I've been distracted. Guess that happens when one has trouble paying attention, is easily led in other directions, or, let's say, has projects on which to catch up after two days without a computer. The original, 5-year-old hard drive gave up the ghost. Things are getting back to normal after having a new 70% larger, light-years faster hard drive installed, and I am determined to finish the holiday post. But for now, here is a note I just sent to Kroger via their website.

Back in the 1960s, there was a huge, colorful, tile mosaic of a happy, modern shopper pushing a cart-full of groceries on the wall at the entrance of the Kroger store on Baxter Avenue in Louisville. I loved shopping there with my grandmother.


Shiny, happy Kroger Shopper, circa 1959.

Forty-three or so years later, I've been living in Memphis for a couple of decades. During that time I've bounced between grocers, most recently Schnuck's and Kroger, to get the things I required.

I was less than enthused when our community received the news that Kroger would be buying out its only competition in Memphis for two reasons: A) there were things I could get at Schnuck's that Kroger wouldn't/didn't/couldn't carry, and B) Kroger would be a monopoly with the ability to limit selection, increase prices and more or less hold us hostage. The remaining grocers are either low-budget, discount operations that don't offer the products I prefer or they are small family-owned neighborhood stores that are charming for an occasional visit but not for regular pantry-stocking.

My expectations have been met. I have witnessed the elimination of some of my favorite staples from the shelves, like Eight O'Clock Italian Roast coffee beans, Romanoff Black (and Red) Lumpfish Caviar and Campbell's Select Harvest French Onion Soup. Those are a few of many that come to mind.

Then, there's the price increases. Understanding the state of the economy I expect food costs to rise in general, across segments. It's the quiet, gradual, specific instances that are glaring to me. Is there a run on mayonnaise of which I'm unaware? A soup shortage? Orange trees disappearing?

No, Kroger, I will not take what you give us and like it. I am not a reflection of that apparently gleeful, tile-faced shopper on the wall of my grandmother's long-gone grocery. I am making a conscious commitment to avoid your stores like the plague. I've had enough of the virtual nose tweaking you're giving us in Memphis by ditching things that have long been on our shelves without consideration and the extortion to which we're subjected in the checkout lanes (often while bagging our own groceries).

I'll be shopping at our local meat markets, produce stands and farmers' markets for perishables even more than I have in the past. And, I intend to find everything else I used to buy in your stores elsewhere -- whether it be in bulk at a warehouse store or piecemeal at various places online.

I'm seeking more value for the way I live.

Mental Block

So, this morning I got up and went through my rituals, then sat down with a cup of coffee at my laptop to do some research in hopes of being inspired for this year's Christmas card design. I pinned a few things on Pinterest but hadn't found anything especially fitting.

But as I poked through images at Plan 59, I happened upon this image for a 1941 Lincoln Zephyr ad with the caption, "Give them a Magic Carpet for Christmas." While this may not inspire a card design I think it's a great image and as you may or may not know, I love vintage advertising.



Suddenly, the redesign of the new Lincolns made sense to me. I remembered my first up-close-and-personal glimpse of the 2010 Lincoln MKT at Standiford Field over the holidays in 2009, where at first I thought, "I like that," but then wondered what they were doing up in the division's design studios.



Since Lincoln introduced its new look I've been perplexed, but intrigued. And now, I get it. The design looks to be inspired by that 1941 Zephyr. It has to be. Why else would the MKZ have first hit the market as Zephyr in 2006?

Digging a little further, Wikipedia offered this regarding 2010 and later cars: "In the front, the MKZ's headlights are new while its fascia and split-wing grille closely resembles that of the Lincoln MKR concept, a new approach towards giving all Lincolns a shared appearance inspired by Lincolns during the late 1930s, as demonstrated by the 1936 Lincoln-Zephyr."

Good Lord. It's only taken me two years to get here. I'm often curious as to why I don't immediately connect the dots for things which once "discovered" seem so obvious?

"Fiddle-dee-dee," as Scarlett O'Hara would say. I'll worry about that another day. I need to get on with designing our Christmas card.

Happy holidays.

Christmas Tradition

It started with a simple question: What are your favorite Christmas traditions?"

The query was posed on Better Homes and Gardens' Facebook wall back in July. I answered and posted a link to this blog: Stumped.

Around 10:30 this morning Cameron went to Walgreen's to pick up his new prescription for Ambien. At 11:03 my phone rang. When I answered, he said, "Congratulations."

I said, "for what?"

He'd been checking the newsstands for the last week or two and this time he found it. If you pick up a copy of Better Homes and Gardens December 2011 issue, you'll find one of our Christmas traditions featured on the lead page of the "Better Family" story, page 197. I learned that it would be included in the magazine in August and have done my best to keep quiet about it until now.







To say our holiday season is starting with a "bang" would be an understatement.

Air Travel: No PanAm

Cameron and I have been excited about ABC's new series PanAm. We both remember the cachet that accompanied the thought of air travel in its glory days. Alas, the climate has changed drastically with deregulation, cost-cutting measures, hijackings and terrorist attacks.

I've posted the following before but I was just reminded of it and thought it was worth sharing again. This version comes from Consumer Traveler.

Memo from an angry flight attendant

by Charlie Leocha on July 25, 2008

Here’s a letter from an unknown flight attendant that touches on almost every part of the flight experience that frequent and no-so-frequent fliers know all too well.

It is a reminder in this day of flight crews being booed and sued, and more and more canceled flights that the front line of pilots and flight attendants are as much victims of bad management as we, the passengers, are.

As this flight attendant so aptly says, “direct your hostility and frustrations in the direction where they will be most effective: The customer service department. They are the ones equipped to handle your complaint and implement procedures for change.”

When you do interact with your flight attendant, a smile, a kind word and a thank you go a long way — further than many of us know.

To the Flying Public: We’re sorry.

We’re sorry we have no pillows.

We’re sorry we’re out of blankets.

We’re sorry the airplane is too cold.

We’re sorry the airplane is too hot.

We’re sorry the overhead bins are full.

We’re sorry we have no closet space for your oversized bag.

We’re sorry that’s not the seat you wanted.

We’re sorry there’s a restless toddler/overweight/offensive smelling
passenger seated next to you.

We’re sorry the plane is full and there’s no other seats available.

We’re sorry you didn’t get your upgrade.

We’re sorry that guy makes you uncomfortable because he “looks like a terrorist”.

We’re sorry there’s a thunderstorm and we can’t take off.

We’re sorry we don’t know when it will stop.

We’re sorry you’re crammed into a space so small that if you were an animal PETA would protest.

We’re sorry a Super 80 has no music or video entertainment for your 3 hour flight.

We’re sorry we ran out of your favorite soda.

We’re sorry there’s no more sandwiches.

We’re sorry that Budweiser costs $6.

We’re sorry we don’t have diapers for your baby.

We’re sorry we don’t have milk for same baby.

We’re sorry you can’t hang out by the cockpit door waiting to use the bathroom. We’re sorry you can’t hang out at the back of the airplane.

We’re sorry you have to sit down and fasten your seatbelt.

We’re sorry you have to put your seat up for landing.

We’re sorry we don’t know when we’re going to land.

We’re sorry we don’t know whether your plane to (substitute any city in the world) will be waiting for you when we land.

We’re sorry we’ve been diverted because we ran out of gas waiting to land.

We’re sorry for these and so many other things that we have absolutely no control over but which we are held accountable for EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Please understand. Flight attendants are not the enemy. We share your space. More than anyone – we want to have a nice, pleasant travel experience.

There is a reason behind everything we ask you to do. It may be a FAA directive. It may be security related. It may be a company procedure.

We don’t just make stuff up. We don’t spend 8 weeks at the flight academy learning how to pour a Coke. There are many things that flight attendants are watching for constantly on every flight FOR YOUR SAFETY.

It’s not because we’re bored or so controlling that we just enjoy telling people what to do. I, for one, would like to have one flight where I didn’t have to repeatedly tell people to put their seats up for landing. Seriously.

Can’t you just do what we ask sometimes? Without the glares, eye rolling and disdain? For the record – putting your seat up for landing may not seem that important to your personal safety. However, it is very important for the person sitting BEHIND YOU. If you have ever tried to get out of a row where
someone has their seat back you know it can be a challenge. Try grabbing your ankles (emergency brace position) or getting out of that row quickly with smoke in the cabin.

Understand a little better now?

Many of the things we ask passengers to comply with are FAA directives. Like carry-on bag stowage and exit row requirements. When we can serve drinks (in the air) and when we can’t (after the aircraft door is closed or on an active taxi-way). We are only allowed to move about the cabin during taxi
out for safety related duties. We can’t get you blankets then, or hang coats, or get you drinks. It’s not because we don’t want to. It’s because we are held personally responsible if we fail to comply with FAA directives.

Meaning that the FAA can fine us personally up to $10,000 if we fail to comply or enforce an FAA Directive. Like no bags at the bulkhead. No children in the exit row. No one moving around the cabin during taxi.

Perhaps now you know why flight attendants get a little testy when people move about the cabin when they’re not supposed to. It’s not the company that gets in trouble for that. It’s us.

Personally, I wish the airlines would show worst case scenario safety videos. Like what happens if you walk through the cabin during turbulence.

There could be a guy who has just fallen and smacked his face on the metal armrest and now has a bloody, gushing broken nose. Or an elderly lady who now has a broken arm because someone walking to the bathroom fell on her.

Maybe a passenger with a broken neck because somebody opened an overhead bin during turbulence and a suitcase fell out and onto the person sitting beneath it. These things can easily happen in a fast moving, unstable air environment.

Please just trust that we are looking out for your best interest and stop fighting with us about everything we ask you to do. It is exhausting.

Finally, please, please direct your hostility and frustrations in the direction where they will be most effective: The customer service department. They are the ones equipped to handle your complaint and
implement procedures for CHANGE.

Think about it. Complaining to the flight crew about all your negative travel experiences is about the same as complaining to the office janitor because your computer isn’t working. It may make you feel better to vent about it – but it really won’t fix anything. More than anybody we are already aware of the lack of amenities, food, service and comfort on the aircraft. Please share your concerns with the people in the cubicles at corporate who need that information to make better decisions for the flying public.

It’s frustrating that so many people are in denial about what the travel industry is about now. The glory days of pillows, blankets, magazines and a hot meal for everyone are long gone. Our job is to get you from point A to point B safely and at the cheapest possible cost to you and the company. So be prepared. If you are hungry – get a sandwich before you get on the plane.

If it’s a 3 hour flight, anticipate that you may get hungry and bring some snacks. If you are cold natured – bring a wrap. Think for yourself and think ahead. Otherwise, don’t complain when you have to pay $3 for a cookie and are left with a crusty blanket to keep you warm.

We hear often that the service just isn’t what is used to be. Well, the SERVICE we provide now isn’t what it used to be.

When I was hired, my job was to serve drinks, meals, ensure that safety requirements were met and tend to in-flight medical issues.

Since 9/11 my primary job is to ensure that my airplane will not be compromised by a terrorist.

9/11 may be a distant memory now to many, but be assured that EVERY DAY a flight attendant reports to work he or she is constantly thinking about 9/11. We feel a personal responsibility to ensure that something like that never happens again. We can never relax. We can never not be suspicious
about someone’s intentions.

It is difficult to be vigilant and gregarious at the same time. Especially when most of us are working 12 hour days after layovers that only allow 5-6 hours of sleep. Not because we were out partying and having a grand time on the layover – but because the delays that you experience as a passenger also affect us as a crew, so that what was a 10 hour layover is now 8 hours which doesn’t leave a lot of time to recover from what has become an increasingly stressful occupation.

Despite everything, I still enjoy being a flight attendant.

I am writing this letter because I do still care about my profession and about the public perception of flight attendants. In the increasingly challenging travel world it is becoming more imperative than ever for people to just be decent to each other. I can go through an entire day without one person saying anything remotely civil. I will stand at the aircraft door and say hello to everyone who enters and maybe 50% will even look at me and even less will say hello back.

I will try to serve someone a meal who can’t be bothered to take their headsets off long enough for me to ask them what they want. Most of the time the only conversation a passenger has with me is when they are complaining.

Is it any wonder why flight attendants have shut down a bit? After suffering the disdain of hundreds of passengers a day it’s difficult sometimes to even smile, much less interact. We are human. We appreciate the same respect and courtesy that passengers do.

The next time you fly, try treating the flight attendants the way you would like to be treated. You may be surprised how friendly your flight crew is when they are treated like people.

author unknown

Where was I? What was I doing?

I often wonder why it seems important for people to ask "where were you when...." And, I hear this often. "Where were you when JFK was shot?" "What were you doing when Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated?" "Where were you when Elvis died?" With all of the media coverage over the last few days leading up to "ten years later," I'm a bit underwhelmed. I understand that people want to "connect" by discussing their circumstances as these events took place, but for me, my whereabouts at the time are unimportant. Nearly 3,000 people virtually vanished that morning and countless other lives were changed forever that day. Yet, I'm still here. I pray to do something meaningful today in honor of those that may have changed the world but didn't have the chance.

With that said, this is my recollection of September 11, 2001:

Ten years ago I was settling into our cabin on the Golden Princess for a nap as the ship prepared to leave the port at Kusadasi for Istanbul. It was about 4:30 PM. We'd spent a great day touring Ephesus and Selçuk with our guide, Anu. She, Cameron and I formed a mutual bond almost immediately. Working the summer as a guide in her native Turkey, Anu had plans to rejoin her sister back in Atlanta in the fall.

After a scary cliff-side bus ride to the House of the Virgin Mary, where it's believed Mary lived out her life, Anu instructed us to quickly go inside the shrine before "the Japanese tourists cut in front of you" as we waited in line to enter. The apparent leader of that group spat, "were not Japanese, we're Korean." Her response? "Same difference." Wow. Once the "official" tour concluded she asked if she could show us around. She escorted us to one of her favorite restaurants where we met some of her friends and ate a late lunch. During conversation we mentioned that we wanted to buy a rug. She took us to a merchant she knew and that's where we bought the rug that's in our living room today.

Not long after closing my eyes, Cameron's mother, Carolyn, came knocking on our cabin door. It was clear that she was distressed. She said a plane had hit the World Trade Center. I remember saying, "it must be a movie." Alas, we sat on our beds and watched the entire event unfold on CNN until the channel was no longer available at sea. We switched to BBC and, as usual, the coverage turned out to be a much better alternative to the "hype" and continued instant replays found on our American "news" media.

The ship was eerily quiet that night. The only activity was the seemingly miles long line of passengers quietly queuing up to the Excursions desk to cancel their plans for Istanbul. There was a handful of folks that sat with us at a bar on the otherwise deserted pool deck. Among them were a couple of girls from the Bay Area, our German friends Georg and Barbara and a couple from Puerto Rico, Ian and Orlando, with whom we'd become acquainted. After nearly two weeks on board we'd gotten to know our bartender as well. She was a sweet, Romanian girl who at first was sympathetic to the events taking place in New York, but then she said, "now you know how the rest of us feel." I'm as nonplussed with comment today as I was then.

The next morning we cruised into Istanbul. As the ship approached it's berth we were stopped while Turkish military came aboard, all dressed in black, carrying AK-47 assault rifles. They patrolled the top deck of the ship while guard boats circled in the water the entire time we were in there. Through various announcements from the ship's captain and hearing the Call to Prayer dotted with the only intelligible word —"America"— we began to feel assured that we were safe in Turkey. Still, uncertainty permeated the air on the Golden Princess. The cruise line had their hands full. Not only did they have a ship full of people wrapping up their two week Mediterranean Cruise, they had another ship-load of folks waiting in port to board.

The second day, Princess asked us to turn in our personalized cards for on-board charges and gave us new ones without names. Confused, I didn't find out until later that they didn't charge for any expenses after the original disembarkation date. In addition, they contracted with charter buses to take hourly trips to the Grand Bazaar for those who had cancelled their excursions earlier who now warmed to the idea of getting off of the ship. I agreed to go with Cameron and his stepfather, Jim. Walking on the shady path to the marketplace, we were offered some tea. Everyone we encountered was welcoming and friendly. But I was still uncomfortable. We walked the stalls of the cavernous Bazaar and eventually stopped in a shop to buy some rings, but by this time I was so stressed that I only stayed long enough for one cycle of bus departures back to the ship. Once onboard, I slept for almost an entire day. Unfortunately, that was Cameron's and my ninth anniversary. Not so happy.

Some time later, we were ushered into the Princess Theatre for an evacuation presentation where too many among the audience were comparing bejeweled canvas shoes instead of paying attention to the presentation. During the Q & A portion of the program those shoe-sharing dingbats were asking questions that had already been covered. As you can imagine stress levels were fairly high and I remember saying something aloud that I later regretted about "turning up your Beltone."

Because air travel had been suspended our chartered jet was grounded in Atlanta. It seemed that once we were given evacuation plans they would change almost instantly. There was talk of sailing back to Athens or even Barcelona. Later, it looked like we might sail all the way to Fort Lauderdale. With each of the different announcement I left the ship for terminal and the lines at the telephone bank in an attempt to keep our families, our house/dog sitter, Lise, and our employers informed.

Every night, the captain would come on the PA and instruct us to put our luggage outside our cabins, telling us we'd leave the next day. Our bags came back to our cabins the next morning. Finally, on the fifth attempt, our plane had been allowed to leave the United States and was waiting for us at Atatürk International Airport. We got on the bus and made our way to a World Airways charter plane, which normally seats just over 200 passengers, that had been refitted to seat more than 400. With space being so tight, and many passengers' complete lack of regard for instructions, it was a miserable 10-hour flight. Inconsiderates were piling used food boxes in front of the emergency exits instead of waiting for the crew to collect them. Some clueless woman leaned up against a flight attendants' communications console while waiting in line for the lavatory and coincidentally managed to press the right combination of buttons with her butt to send a distress signal to the cockpit. One of the pilots came rushing back to the area yelling for everyone to take their seats.

After Cameron became acquainted with some of the crew he helped them get things back in order. We landed at LaGuardia late that night and boarded buses to a LaQuinta/Quality/Non-Descript hotel. It was chaos all around, on the grounds, in the lobby, and in the restaurant. We had a couple of drinks while we waited for something to eat, then went to bed in anticipation of our bus ride to JFK for another flight the next day.

It was a somber flight from New York with only a handful of passengers on board. Much like the morning of the attacks, it was a clear, sunny day giving us a clear view of the smoldering remains of the World Trade Center followed by a glimpse of hole in the Pentagon.

“Green” your lawn with drought-tolerant turf - DIY Advice Blog - Family Handyman DIY Community

“Green” your lawn with drought-tolerant turf - DIY Advice Blog - Family Handyman DIY Community

Here are a couple of eye-opening factoids:

— U.S. homeowners spend more to maintain their lawns than the average farmer spends on each acre of crops.

— For the average home, 50 to 70 percent of the water bill is for watering the lawn.

If your community is among the many that has implemented watering restrictions to deal with water shortages, it might be time to change the way you think about your yard.

First, consider replacing some or all of your existing turf with ground covers and drought-tolerant plantings.

Second, consider planting a lawn that requires less water. You might wonder if it’s really possible to stop watering (and fertilizing) so much and still have nice-looking turf. According to High Country Gardens, the answer is yes. The nursery offers water-wise grass seed mixtures and grass plugs developed specifically for different regions to look good while requiring less water and fewer chemicals.

The “No Mow” lawn seed mix has been developed for the cooler, moister climates in the upper Midwest, northeastern U.S. and high elevations in the West. For hotter climates and areas in the southern U.S., check out the “Low Work and Water” seed mix. These specially blended mixes of dwarf fine fescue grass varieties provide deep-rooted and dense turf that, according to High Country Gardens, requires little additional water except during the driest spells in summer. You can leave it unmowed for a wild effect or mow it once a month (!) to achieve a more manicured look ($30 per 5-lb. bag, which seeds 1,000 sq. ft.).

High Country Gardens also offers Legacy Buffalo grass plugs (70 plugs for $50) that duplicate the lush green of traditional bluegrass turf in low-moisture, high-clay areas while using 50 to 75 percent less water. If you live in a region with sandy soils, try Blue Grama grass plugs instead.

Even if you’re not interested in grass, check out High Country Garden's Web site (highcountrygardens.com). It has an abundance of information about drought-tolerant landscaping and offers high-quality, water-wise perennials, ornamental grasses and shrubs for your specific region. I’ve purchased many of their perennials over the years, and I’ve been very impressed with their plants, packing methods and customer service.

— Elisa Bernick, Associate Editor

Seems Pretty Simple To Me

I recently saw this from The New York Times:



And, I asked, "how could we solve this problem?" I like the way this looks much better:



Just as 'Ouisa says in "Steel Magnolias," "these are not difficult questions."