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Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Grief-Ex Wive's and Polish Butter Lambs

Earlier Today............................

The bread truck was gassed, my depth charge received an additional shot of espresso....and just like Jack Kerouac, Klecko was on the road.....again.

As I pulled out of the parking lot, my music turned on. I had David Bowie's "HERO'S" in the deck.

I think I had-had that disc in there for over a month, so promptly....I pulled it out and replaced it with Lou Reed's "ECSTACY'.

Zoom-Zoom-Vroom.......Klecko buzzes across the metro.

My first stop was a country club that had hired a new chef.

When I pulled into the parking lot, the first thing I did was check the dumpsters because that's usually the general area the chefs will place the plastic bread racks they've emptied.....

Yep.....this former account had replaced us with some clone bakery that isn't even worthy to rub perfume on my feet.

So I pop in the back door, and the chef is on the other side of a kitchen that is easily the size of a football pitch...I proceeded and we met in the middle.

This guy had to be mid 30's, and I had never seen him before.

"What part of the world are you from kid?" I asked.

"Originally Boston, but now Wisconsin, I make the commute each day."

When you meet chef's on business calls, one of two things happens.

Either they give you a mere 1/2 second of their time, or they troll you around their space and describe what their vision is.

Daddio did the latter.

Towards the end of my visit, the both of us stood outside and stared over a golf course that was doing everything in it's control to melt the final remnants of snow, and as this was taking place, I'm not even sure how the topic turned to family stuff, and my new bud told me how him and his wife recently lost a baby to illness, and how part of this move was to kick-start their family.

I'm not sure why this cat told me this, but I am glad he did. You could tell he felt better.

If you are going to be in have to understand that life trumps accounts.

Even if this guy didn't want to come aboard, I was glad I got to share some of his time.

So now it's time to drive across town to the Polish Bakery and talk with them about rye breads.

Sometimes during the Easter season, small ethnic concepts get overwhelmed with business, so they end up outsourcing from us for 2 or 3 days to get over the hump.

Back in the truck I go, on the freeway I am....and then Lou Reed starts singing a song entitled Baton Rouge.

It is a story about young love.

It is a story about young love lost.

I have listened to this song, oh....I dunno, like 10 000 times, but today, for no particular reason......

My mind drifted back to my first wife.

Our chapter was only a few pages in the Klecko manifesto.

Those few pages of my life ended in a manner that wasn't conducive to me feeling good.

I like to feel good, but you know.....I always just assumed that I would simply run across her again one day.

I haven't.

I haven't seen her -

Talked to her -

Truth be told I'm not even sure I would recognize her if we were seated at the same table.

It's been over 25 years.

So now my mind begins swimming.

Klecko starts asking himself.......

"Should I contact her to put closure on existing closure?"

I think the bottom line is I really went a long time being angry because this woman dumped me...

And you know, the whole thing was a disaster from the start, and she should get a medal, because me-being me......I wouldn't have known how to unplug.

It's not in my nature.

I wonder if that's the Irish in me?

But the whole thing just ended u-g-l-y and I'll bet she has forgotten me, but I think I would like her to know that now that I am old. I don't even remember my anger, but I do remember how much I adored that woman.

All of this is taking place while Sue McGleno is preparing to leave to go to Nebraska to visit our daughter.

Our daughter who is about to give birth to my grandson any second right?

So being Polish, being exempt from therapy, I pop chatted my newest girlfriend "V".

She too is a baker, but she is a woman of the world.

She is academic.

She is married to some cat who traded in street smarts for a thing called a Harvard Diploma.

Anyways......"V" gave me some ideas to ponder.

It never hurts having an array of smart women in your world.

So now I pull up the the Pollack Bakery, and Saints of Warsaw, if that parking lot wasn't full. and my Pollacks did our dance, but then as I walked by the cooler.....

There it was -

Like Christ in a manger -

A little Butter Lamb.

If you've never seen them......I don't blame ya, it's a Pollack thing.

You put the Butter Lamb on your Easter Table as an ornament.

As a badge that proves you are Polish.

As a reminder to the world that you are one of God's "Elect" - LOL.

And a couple things remain universal concerning this wonderful sculpture.

Every little girl will fight over who gets the ribbon around the neck.

If there are multiple girls, their mom will say.....

"That bow is covered in butter. Its going in the trash."

If there is only 1 little girl...well, mom pretty much says the exact same thing.

Little boys on the other hand.

All they care about is cutting into the butter first.

And if that kid is a true-blue boy.......

He'll lop of the head with a swift stroke of the butter knife, and when that comes to pass....

The adults should just slouch in their chairs with a smile on their face, knowing that their dysfunction wasn't influenced by their surroundings or actions.......

Somethings are simply genetic.

Happy Easter to those of you who celebrate it.

  Schrambling_110409_butter lambs at broadway market buffaloIMG_1010


  1. I didn't want this to end..... Keep going... Lol

  2. Never heard about the Polish butter lambs before, but I don't doubt that boys chops off their heads first, like they do with chocolate lambs (whereas girls might keep them until they are mummified).
    Meeting old loves sometimes really finally closes the door to the attic - you heave a relieved sigh and ask yourself: "How on earth could I fall in love with this person?"
    Happy Easter,

    1. Thank You...and Happy Easter back Attcha.

  3. not worthy of anointing your feet with perfume....