Auto-Biography (Continued) - Coke Bottles Learn To Fly

(Very Early Marriage)

     One of the things my wife and I decided to do after we got married was to assign different duties. I took financial which, consisted of the checking account, savings, deposits and almost anything connected with money.  Since my wife didn't particularly like to go food shopping, I took over that task, too!

      During one of the visits to the grocery store I bought a six-pack of Coco Cola, and placed it on the window sill for easy access. After the six bottles were used up, my wife asked me when I would take back the bottles to get the 12 cents deposit. For the next few weeks I completely ignored the bottles, when she finally said..."Last chance today when you go shopping, take the bottles back!"

     Naturally, I forgot to do it.   When I came back, she was ready for me.  "So, you didn't take the bottles back, did you?”  ‘I guess I forgot again," I replied.  "Very simple solution," she yelled.  She opened the window, picked up the carton of bottles, and threw them out the window (fortunately to a lawn below so no one was hurt.)  After that episode, I learned that when she asks did I do something, I made sure that everything was done!!!!

* "Farmer Block"

(With typical farm clothing to go with it)

     Somewhere along the line I must have wanted to be a farmer. After we bought our first house in 1960, I decided it was time to become that long lost farmer lover -- plant and grow foods.  There was no ready help like Wikipedia at that time, so I went to the library to take out some books on part-time farming.  I guess I didn't read the instructions very hard, because I ended up with a backyard full of plants -- tomatoes, lettuce, eggplant, carrots, peppers, onions, and more all intertwined with one another...and a peach tree that blossomed a few years later with hordes of peaches (most we gave away, and at least half canned in glass jars for later use).  After the first years of "farming” I cut down on the "farming" bit to a pot of tomatoes, and sadly said goodbye to my peach tree!

* "How I Became the Family Chef"

(Six weeks into our marriage)

     After we got married, we usually took our meals with my wife's family. Six weeks into our marriage, my wife said to me, "It's my turn, I am going to make a Beef Goulash that you'll love since it is my grandmother's favorite dish." She labored in the kitchen for a few hours, and at dinnertime proudly produced the Goulash she had made with her lovely hands.  I took one bite of this delicious looking Beef Goulash, screamed and rushed to the water fountain to put my mouth under the water

pouring out from the faucet to quench what I was surely my mouth in flames from way too much spices.  After a few minutes of this maneuver, I turned to my wife and said..."You're fired!  I'll do the cooking from now on."  (Fortunately I had learned to how to cook from my sister who taught me to prepare meals when my mother came home from her store around 7 pm each night).   

     And so began my more than 65 years as Chef of the Family...and I loved every minute of it, and miss doing it today at Brookdale whose chefs handle all the prepared meals.


Here's a new idea I've been doing for a number of years...ALWAYS ALLITERATIVE. It's poetry with each word beginning with the same letter of the alphabet.  For instance, here's one using the Letter "A":

Andrew always addressed audiences,

Acknowledging apparent annoying altercations.

And afterwards, advocated action,

Against adversaries, applied assuredly.


Try one with the letter "B" and send it to so we can publish it along with our own ALWAYS ALLITERATIVEs.

Bernie is a real person who resides in one of our Brookdale communities. Many of the stories he has written are based on factual evidence from newspaper stories and other sources available to the public.  He uses his imagination in parts to help supply the “twist” at the end.  The views and opinions expressed in this blog are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of Brookdale Senior Living.


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