Posted on

A Penguinmas Miracle

I’m out of this world!

In December of 1967, my mother turned twenty. Two days later, I was born. I always felt as if having birthdays two days apart made us even closer. Mom didn’t have a lot of money when I was very young, which isn’t anything I ever noticed. I never had big parties with lots of friends and elaborate gifts. What I had was a good meal, home made eclairs with ice cream, a few candles to blow out, and a few gifts, which always meant the world to me, as modest as they may have been. What I had most of, however, was love. I always cherished how Mom and I would celebrate together, on the day in between. My birthday has always been my favorite day of the year, thanks to all that Mom did to make it so special.

As I got older, I found out that I’m not the only one who loves their birthday. Mother Airline loves birthdays so much, they make it paid holiday. I love this, as I’ve always thought it best to work on your birthday. None of that taking the day off for me. I want the wishes. I want the dinner and a round of drinks. It’s the following day, which should be taken off- if nothing else than to recover! As Mother Airline ensures, it IS a holiday, like Christmas is the day for celebrating Christ’s birthday, I always wish others a similar holiday-styled greeting. Happy Jasonmas. Happy Lindamas. Happy insert-name-here-mas!
I scoff when people apologize for belated birthday wishes. Are you kidding? Make my birthday more than one day? Thank you, please! When I turned forty, I stretched it out to a whole freaking month! I had friends all over the globe, so I had a party at home in the Bay Area, I had a party with friends in Portland, I partied all month on layovers all over the country. I now see why they celebrate the emperor’s birthday in Japan. Were I emperor, we’d be all be celebrating my big day.
Penguin’s first birthday

Then I hit fifty. All of a sudden, I was of the opinion that maybe it was time to put birthday celebrations to rest, sort of like some people no longer celebrate birthdays, but anniversaries of past birthdays. How could I be fifty? I don’t act fifty, whatever that means. I don’t feel fifty, except when my back is in spasm, my eyes are blurry, I can’t remember what day it is…okay, maybe I do feel fifty!

Really, my fiftieth birthday was just another day. I felt no different at the end of the day as I had from the end of the previous one. Hide my calendar and I would have no idea I had circled the sun fifty times. As I fretted about turning fifty in the weeks leading up to it, the dread soon began to fade. I half wanted to celebrate Penguinmas in a big way, and, as I had done for my fortieth, in more than one location. However, I wound up keeping things fairly low-key.
With Penguinmas being a paid holiday, I picked up a trip to Lima, so I decided to celebrate on the day before, as I had done with Mom for so many years. As the day before came and went, I found some very special things, what came to be known as Penguinmas miracles.
As a stark reminder that this was my fiftieth birthday. I awoke, just barely, and began to stretch. Charlie horse. The pain was mind-numbing, but then I started to laugh. My cats backed up and watched in horror. Such pain and laughter all at once. We start losing our minds at fifty, don’t we? It was a miracle I made it to fifty. What a welcome!
When the pain subsided, I realized that I was hearing rain. It filled my home with that wonderful sound it makes as it hits my roof. My cats don’t normally sleep with me, especially the boy. This day, however, they were both glued to my side. Rain on my roof, a chill in the December air, cats at my side, warm covers, all I wanted to do was remain buried under there all day, but I had a lunch date, so I limped out to prepare for Penguinmas.
Driving in the cold rain across town was nothing in order that I could have a wonderful lunch with a good friend. We met at a nice pizza joint near downtown. The rain was relentless, which is not the type of weather I normally enjoy being out in. Rain is normally for naps under the blanket with cats and an old movie, pretty much the way in which my day had begun. Lunch was had, as well as a wonderful conversation. Better yet, it cost me nothing. For this, I’ll venture out any time, birthday or not, rain or shine.
Mom and both of my grand parents dote over me.

Next on the day’s agenda was drinks with one of my longest-time friends. Living in a high rise downtown, I always enjoy the views of one of my favorite skylines in the world. My love of architecture was born in Houston, because of the modern buildings, and they still catch my fancy. I love being in their midst. My friend and I had dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe, and he then treated me to a show. While not a huge fan of Winona Judd, I thoroughly enjoyed an evening listening to her tell stories between songs and carols on a stage, which was illuminated by several Christmas trees. It left me feeling very festive.
After the show, the fun continued by meeting a work friend for yet more drinks. I’m not a fan of bars, or the bar scene, but it’s fun to be out and mingling with the other humans. Since it’s something I do so infrequently, I quite enjoyed it.
Then came my favorite- SNOW! I know, in Houston! It was a Penguinmas miracle! It started to come

My grandparents just after the original Penguinmas

down around 10:00pm and it did so for quite a while, in large flake-clusters. The bar emptied for a few minutes as patrons, with phones in hand, set out for the photos that lit up social media. I’m not exactly a newcomer to snow, so I stayed put, sucking down my brew.

I remember it snowing in Houston when I was very young. Mom even picked me up from school early so I could go home and play. Now that I am a homeowner, it was nice to come home that night and see my lawn turned white-my roof as well. Nothing calms like snow. I’m such a penguin!
Penguinmas Eve turned out to be such a special day, but that would soon pale in comparison to my Penguinmas morn. This would leave me feeling like that Japanese emperor, and all of my fans were celebrating. I had so many calls, texts and greetings on social media, it took me over two hours to view and respond to them all.
Around my third birthday, possibly the year it snowed in Houston

It was the first time I’d seen this on such a grand scale. You see, I’m not very computer literate. For years, I have taken a few moments each day to wish friends a happy birthday on social media. Facebook is great at letting me know the day and rarely do I miss anyone’s big event. I’ve noticed in the past few years that I get far fewer greetings than I feel I deserve. I have invested a lot into celebrating friendmas’s, so I feel I’ve been on the short end of the stick with the comparatively few wishes I receive in return.

Recently, I was informed that my Facebook privacy settings were compromised, so I did some poking around. I found a box that was not clicked, something about displaying my birthday publicly. I clicked it. I have over 600 friends on Facebook who previously had not been getting the Penguinmas notification because that box had not been clicked. The flood gates were now opened. Of course, what resulted was me realizing that in the past, people had been recognizing my big day without being reminded by the big computers at Facebook central. This really made me feel special. I hadn’t been ignored the past few years, I was truly being honored by friends who knew of Penguinmas without the reminder.
Adding to the many emails of the day, a few years ago I figured out that most restaurants have birthday clubs, many of which present terrific birthday offers. Sometimes it’s a buy one get one free deal, which I had used for Penguinmas Eve. Other times it’s a free dessert with purchase. There are a few places that flat out give free food! I’ve always loved going to Denny’s on my birthday for my free breakfast. I normally do this alone, after all, who wants to go to Denny’s to celebrate a friend’s birthday? I say that every year, but as I’m sopping up honey with the fluffy pancakes, I’m always impressed at how good the meal is. I get a free BBQ sandwich from Dickey’s, a free slider from Zaxbies (they used to give a free combo meal), and Red Robin throws in a free burger with endless fries. I get so many deals, I don’t normally get to use them all.
Penguin and his mama

Eager to earn those holiday bucks, and milk my big day even further, I was ready to go to work and fly to Lima. When I got to work and checked my drop file, I found another Penguinmas miracle. I had recently attended the retirement celebrations of the 747 aircraft in Honolulu. I was sad to see her go and as an aviation enthusiast, I wanted to get my hands on the swag being offered. There were gift bags, special booklets and even commemorative pins to wear. Some of the swag was very difficult to get a hold of, so I had put out the word that I was seeking them. A flight attendant based in Hawaii found some swag, both relating to the 747 retirement, as well as from other aviation-related events. When I got to work, there was a large envelope full of neat little things, such as Mother Airline playing cards, pins, special aircraft engine coins and a lovely note. There was also a nice birthday card from my supervisor.

At the end of the day, I had extra cash in my wallet thanks to Penguinmas holiday pay, an inbox full of well wishes, a few great memories, some free meals, and I was in Lima, Peru. I joined some flying partners at the bar. It was past midnight, so Penguinmas was officially over, but the celebrations continued and I had a couple of drinks thanks to my crew. I may still organize a little celebration in the spring to be with my friends who live on the West Coast, but even if that slips past me, I had the kind of birthday I would be envious of. I’m glad it was mine, made special by the many people in my life who bring me joy. It really was a Penguinmas Miracle!

I feel like a king on my birthday
Posted on

Adventures in Flight: Drama Llama

Stop

My parents live on a ranch in Colorado. On the neighboring ranch can be seen a llama. It’s a lone llama, eating grass alongside horses in the mountains. It’s a cute llama, as llamas go, and I enjoy reminding it that its mama is a llama. Mom, on the other hand, calls out to it, “Llama llama ding dong.” Don’t judge…I know you talk to animals, too. I’m not sure if this llama has much drama in its life, but I’m willing to bet if there is, it’s that damned llama’s doing!

Flight attendants often have drama in their lives that for some reason, can make its way into the cabin- or least the galley. I try to avoid drama like fruitcake, but one can’t always be successful in doing so. Sometimes, it’s just a short little drama story. But every now and then the drama gets more intense.
We have all seen the news report of the flight attendants getting into fisticuffs with one another on a flight overseas, which had to be diverted when it got severe enough. I’ve never seen the drama reach such lofty heights and I hope I never have to.

Let me out…too much drama!

It was during the boarding process; I was greeting passengers and the purser was in the galley setting things up and preparing pre departure drinks for first class. One woman entered wearing a dark blue dress with white polka dots. I could tell from her bag that she was a flight attendant, so I said a warm hello and invited her to let me know if she needed anything. I always treat my passengers very well, but I also make sure to take great care of my fellow crew.
This woman took a few steps into the aisle and stopped, waiting to reach her seat. The purser stands up and leans in, but in not the quietest tone asks, “Do you see that woman, there? The one in the blue dress?”
“With the polka dots?” I confirm.
“Yes…that one,” she states with venom in her tone.
Ignoring drama

She starts into some story about not knowing her but having a mutual friend (an ex-mutual friend as it turns out) and this woman in the polka dots pulled her line and circled items and tried to turn it in to management, anonymously, which can’t be done because they can pull a history trail. Long story short, friends were lost, supervisors were met with, molehills became mountains and here they are all these years later ending up on the same plane together.

I don’t get involved in drama. Later, Miss Dots, while smiling, made a comment to me, “I’m sure you heard all about me from the purser…”
“Well, she said something, but I don’t do drama. May I get you something to drink?”
Meanwhile, anytime I entered the first class galley, the purser was quick to state, “She gets nothing!” My flying partner in the back was of the same mind. Miss Dots didn’t do anything to me. I’m not going to be brought into the middle of their spat, which occurred years ago, and even admittedly from the purser, Miss Dots now regrets ever having gotten involved.
Of the same mind one minute, drama the next. The woman I was working with began her story of drama in her home life. Issues with a mutual friend who is racist but using their service to our country as an excuse and yadda yadda yadda. She droned on for a while and I feigned interest until saved by a call light in the cabin from a woman needing a cup of water.

Chicago 747
Being amongst pretty white horses and grazing on grass in the mountains surely must be a drama-free life. I try to make my life as much like that as possible. I need more mountains and less grazing, but any time I can avoid drama, I do it! You can be the drama llama if you want, but please leave me out…lest you want to get a Christmas fruit cake from Penguin! (And no one wants that!)

I’d love it if you’d click a reaction below!   V

Posted on

Adventures in Life: The Apartment

Apartment #1 on bottom left, this was the front door.

I love going back in time. It’s not so hard to do when you live in your home town. Every few years I enjoy driving back through my old neighborhood and seeing how things have changed. The U-Totem convenience store is gone, along with the old washateria next to it. It’s now a bright, shiny new home store. The old GM dealership on the corner is a beauty supply mega-store. The old House of Pies is still there, and then there is the apartment.
The old House of Pies on Kirby Dr., a Houston institution
The apartment I have the most memories of- some of the first and most impressionable memories of my childhood- is on the borders of the artsy Montrose and the affluent River Oaks section of Houston. This is the apartment were I went to kindergarten; I still remember Mom taking pictures of me and my friend, Dallas, on the day I started first grade. Wow, I had a friend named Dallas! In the alley behind the apartment is where I learned to ride a bike…my first bike, a Christmas gift, as was my first Lego set.
 
This is where I learned to ride a bike and I played in that very puddle of water!
This was the apartment where I lost my first pet dog in a battle with a car on nearby Kirby Dr. This is the apartment of my first pet cats, who had kittens in the living room. This is the apartment where I first noticed airplanes in the sky, where I played with Yvette in the bushes under my window, where I admired all the Halloween candy from the mansions a few blocks away, where I played in puddles after a rain and where, one day, I got in trouble for throwing rocks at passing cars. I was four…I had no idea that was bad. But I learned!
Mom was young and struggling after her divorce to a man who turned out to be a selfish, egotistical piece of work. When her struggle became too much, she would walk me onto an airplane and send me to my grandparents. This is the reason I’m so close to my family, and Mom’s independence and ability to overcome her struggles was passed on to me.
For years I’ve driven by this apartment and watched as it got new paint jobs, new flowers in the yard, new curtains in the windows. Eventually, some of the neighboring apartments were torn down and up went shopping strips of furniture and children’s toy stores. Then today, some 44 years after I lived there, as I drove back in time, my old apartment itself has been turned into a store! It’s now an annex of the very store that overtook the neighboring buildings.
These door used to the our covered parking space.
I had planned to park and take some photos, afraid that one day soon, I’d drive by and it would be gone. But I guess that apartment had good bones, for there it was, just as I remembered it, except that the front yard was now paved for cars to park and people shopped for home goods in the place where all my oldest memories were formed. If they only knew! I went inside; something I’d longed to do for oh, so many years.
I walked into what used to be my living room. I could still see the Christmas tree and remember asking Mom how Santa was going to enter without our having a chimney. She told me he had magic keys and would walk in the front door, which was now blocked by a table showing off fancy plates and glassware. This was the room where I discovered Batman on TV, would first watch The Wizard of Oz and laugh at the antics of The Three Stooges before leaving for school (the Montessori school I attended is still there). This was the room my father got into an argument with a man my mother was dating. It made me cry, as it was the first time I realized that my father was flawed.
It was in this corner Mom had our Christmas tree.
As I walked to where my bedroom used to be, I could see where the window was, now blocked by a shelf full of stemware. The space between our apartment and the building next to it has been connected, so instead of the large bushes just outside are now candles and fancy candle holders. That window was home to the air conditioner, that beautiful machine. I loved the sound it made, lulling me to sleep and the cold breeze it provided on sultry Texas nights.
The window of my bedroom used to have a large bush.
Suddenly, I realized that I was standing in the place where, each night, I would lie my head and fall into dream land. The glasses on the shelves blurred through the tears forming in my eyes. I could still see the walls that were now gone, and the posters I had hanging over my bed; see the hole in the ceiling of the bathroom that fell in after the upstairs flooded. (I was able see the upstairs neighbor’s tub when that happened!)
You can see where the walls were. Upper right was the corner of my bedroom; left was the kitchen.
To my right was where my Mom’s room was. I could still see her teasing her hair in front of the mirror in the corner. Beyond her room was the small 1-car covered parking space. And behind me was where our kitchen used to be, the same kitchen Mom worked so hard on to paint…yellow and orange, if I remember correctly. She was such an artistic rebel!
Standing in Mom’s bedroom, the kitchen was on the left and my room was behind that column.
From the living room looking to the back of the apartment.
Now, it was all a huge showroom for Kuhl-Linscomb, a top-end design and lifestyle store. The hardwood floors were now stained concrete, but one can still see where the walls used to be. So many memories from 44 years ago came flooding back as I looked around. This is where I learned to tie my shoes. This is where I watched Carol Burnett. This is where Mom cut her wrist on broken glass and I remembered how badly I felt for her while she cried as we drove to the hospital. This is where I lived when I first went to Astroworld (gone), first went ice skating at the Galleria, first ate wonderful greasy burgers at the Purple Cow down the street from Arthur Treacher’s Fish and Chips (both gone). 
Where the bathroom used to be. You can see the hole in front of the column where the toilet was.
The thrill I had in riding my bike up the parking garage of the building around the block, the top from which I could see the Astrodome, was still with me. I loved that damned building with it’s magical light-up scoreboard with fireworks displays, eventually removed for more seats; yet another sad change from my childhood. Some of the quirky apartment homes in the neighborhood that I loved remain, but many have been torn down and converted to townhomes. How times have changed…how many 4 and 5 year-olds ride their bikes without supervision in the busy streets of Houston today? 
Of the quirky apartment buildings still stands a block away.
So if you find yourself in building 3 of K-L looking at wine glasses, this is where a very young Penguin would attempt to make himself appear hot at night so Mom would turn on my air conditioner, allowing me to sleep better. (To this day, I still sleep with a fan at night.) Take care of my apartment Kuhl-Linscomb. I want to come back and visit again. The old apartment has changed. But so have I…and Mom, too. Just like that home to a single mother struggling to make ends meet and raise her son, now a quaint shop of high-end home décor, we’ve come a long way and are doing much better for ourselves. And don’t worry about Santa, he’s gotten in just fine before!
Where this pickup is parked used to be a large bush under which I would play with Yvette and Dallas.
Posted on

Adventures in Flight: I Know What You Were Doing

While you were dancing with sugar plums in your head, I was flying from London to San Francisco. I wore a gold and white Santa hat I bought in Japan. Working in business class I served passengers who loved the hat and were so thankful to me and the crew for working on the holiday. I love making people happy like that!
You were stuffing yourself with turkey, dressing and potatoes, while I was eating more meat than was on Noah’s Ark. I left on Thanksgiving for Sao Paolo, Brazil. At the two-for-one happy hour, we met up with a crew from D.C. Drunk on Caipirinha‘s, Brazil’s national (and very powerful drink)we all went to a Brazilian steak house. The salad bar would have been enough to eat, but then came the servers in national garb slicing off skewers of pork, beef, sausage, lamb, venison, duck, chicken and yes, turkey.
While you were opening presents on Christmas morning, I was walking around Diamond Head in Hawaii,

Hawaiian Santa

marveling at the numerous Santa displays in store windows and yards with him wearing colorful beach shorts instead of his furry red suit. Santa in a kayak, Santa on a surf board, Santa only in swim trunks. It was the first time in my life I spent a Christmas morning in such heat and humidity; no snow or snowmen. Finally, I knew what it must belike to celebrate Yule in the southern hemisphere, as, up to that point, I had not been in that part of the world during Christmas.

As you kissed your loved one at midnight withthe mirroredball dropping, I was watching the two magnificent pyrotechnicshowsput on over Sydney Harbor. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen more fireworks in one day in my life. The first show was as 9PM. I viewed it from a large hotel room obtained by a crew member from LAX for the purpose of hosting a party for all crew members. For the midnight show, we ventured to a park near Darling Harbor where we could see itfrom the watersideand viewthe bridge with the Opera House beyond.
While you were watching Thanksgiving Day football, I was at 36,000 feet sitting in first class eating Mother Airline’s version of a Thanksgiving meal. It was not bad for turkey and dressing, with green beans, mashed potatoes and a slice of pumpkin cheesecake for dessert. I wasn’t working, so I was able to wash it down with white wine.
Another Christmas in uniform
As the little ones gasped in excitement over Santa’s haul, I sat at home on call, waiting for Mother Airline to need me for a trip. I enjoy working on Christmas, bringing loved ones together, sharing in the joy and cheer and, just for fun, wearing my red holiday pin that reads, “Scrooge was right.” For some reason, people always ask what that means. But all I have to say for them to understand it is, “Bah-humbug.”
It’s not just the winter holidays. You were digesting hot dogs, potato salad and waving the US flag on the 4thof July, while I was in a 14thfloor hotel room in San Diego watching fireworks in all directions. It was time to get to sleep for my flights the next day. It was difficult to do, as people continued to shoot off firecrackers, poppers, zippers, zingers, bangers and gongs for hours.
Or I was alone, sitting along the river in Cleveland with the masses enjoying patriotic music, watching children play while their adults drank. Then the rockets red glare took off to bursting in air to thunderous applause and oohs and ahs.

Cleveland on the 4th of July

I know what you were doing on your holidays. I’ve done them before. Now I’m a first responder, responsible for safety and security on airliners going to and fro. Now I fly the skies circling the globe to watch others celebrate with customs not familiar to me, with foods not typically found in my pantry, with people I don’t know but enjoy the company of. We all have one thing in common, we love our celebrations, our family time, our cheer and goodwill toward others. We all love a good party!
I love working holidays. I don’t work them all; I tend to rotate…Thanksgiving this year, Christmas next. New Years only if I have to. I know what you were doing. In many cases, I, along with my many flying partners, helped make it happen.

One Christmas in Osaka, Japan

Happy Holidays!
I know what you were doing
I have done it too
Celebrating Christmas
Or were you playing Scrooge?
I know what you were doing
Eating with family and friends
Traveling to be together
Cheering the bygone trends
Each year the circle spirals
And brings us back around
Enjoying all the holidays
And getting out of town
Gather your things and presents
We all love a great surprise
Travel to see your loved ones
Travel through the skies
I know what you were doing
Spending time with those you love
I may not be with folk I know
But I’m as happy as a dove
I help bring people together
Encouragingsmiles and laughs
From takeoff to arrival
On a big ole jet aircraft
Posted on

My Favorite Things: Gifted

The gift of a great view in flight

I was working the beverage cart and while pouring a drink for children to my right, the gold pin on the jacket lapel to my left caught my attention. I commented on how nice it was after realizing it was the NASA logo. The man was going to Houston so I asked if that is where he worked. It was. I mentioned that I just moved from the Bay Area, so I met people going to the Ames Exploration Center often. At the end of the flight, he called me over and presented to me 2 very nice NASA stickers. I was impressed.
Just before Thanksgiving, I met a woman in first class who had a solar dancing turkey and after doing a dance for her in the aisle, she gifted it to me. I acted like she was trying to give me hundred dollars and not a dollar store item.

I have in my collection a United States flag pin given to me by a very nice veteran of WW2. The interesting thing about this man was that he was again a passenger of mine a month later. I was so glad I was wearing the pin he gave me, as he took notice.
Flight attendants are often gifted with things. Mostly, it’s chocolate or some other candy. Occasionally it’s coffee and even more rare are items like donuts or on one flight, a passenger brought for the crew 2 boxes of savory empenadas from Lima.
Penguin gets a gift

Many years ago, just before Christmas, a passenger on my flight worked for a candle maker and he gifted everyone, including the pilots, small scented candles.

Living in my bag for nearly ten years is a gift card to Starbucks. I never go to Starbucks; I don’t enjoy the aroma in them and I’m never been interested in their products enough to stand in line. One day, I’ll have to use it for some tea or a scone. Even though it’s not been used in many years, I greatly appreciated the thought.
We love our little gifts, but honestly, I’m not one to easily accept gifts from strangers, which is odd being that I went to Burning Man for seven years; a temporary society that exists on a gifting economy. And I do love to give! I used to give gifts for the whole family every year at Christmas, cousin’s included. If I ever win that damned lottery they keep shaking in front of my face, I’ll be giving things away all the time! Rare would be the dinner tab not picked up by me!
But gifts don’t always have to be something tangible. Some of the best gifts I receive on a regular basis are the compliments. When a passenger stops before walking off the plane and thanks me for such great service, or compliments the crew in the back, or admires my announcements, shakes my hand, smiles and tells me that was one of the better flights they’ve been on, it sends me to the moon! About the best gift I can receive is a note to my supervisor about the great service you received.

Inside the Houston Intercontinental terminal
Giving is so much fun and I do enjoy receiving little gifts and treats while I’m working. Giving is a great way to get noticed and ensure that the crew stops by to say hi and sees if there is anything you may need during the flight. Whether for the holidays, a ploy to be recognized by crew, or just a simple way of saying that you understand us, flight crews love receiving little gifts from passengers. It’s my favorite!
(PS; And if you insist, I’d love a new Mercedes in silver!)