PATRICK MCVAY

WRITER

My Musings

This text is currently hidden by a css change. Alow's me to go directly to the category description because it is editable in the front end,

Before You Were Born

While trying to sort out details of my life back in the 1980s on Murdock Street with Guillermo, Ted, and Huatsu, my mind wanders, as it often does, to a recollection about Dear Old Dad, an accountant who did work for a few decades for the grumpy then-owner of the Syracuse, NY steakhouse restaurant The Scotch and Sirloin.

My father spent zillions (not really) treating us and other friends and family to drinks and dinner at "The Scotch," as did his brother George. But, from what I recall, he was never comped a single meal. That's what we learned by listening to my Dad complain about such things to my mom. 

OK, not a big deal.

But then my father dies, and we come to learn that this lucrative restaurant is in arrears several tens of thousands of dollars to him, which my uncle George – executor of his brother's will – made right via several strongly-worded letters, cc'ing a few lawyers. I thought it was somewhat unseemly to demand money as my uncle did, but later in life I came to understand that this was my father's money. He had done work for the restaurant and hadn't been paid for that work. I also came across form letters that were sent monthly to people who had accounts at the Scotch and hadn't paid on time, which called for additional interest of 1.5%. Per month! In other words, an annual rate of 18%. And this restaurant was notoriously slow to pay my father.

But that's not what I wanted to post about.

Sometime in the 1980s around the holidays, when parking was hard to find at the now-defunct "Shoppingtown Mall" in Dewitt NY, in whose parking lot, detached from the rest of the mall, the Scotch was and still is nestled, my father went to deal with some accounting BS and found that there were no parking spaces. What a hassle! My father had had several heart attacks by this point and wasn't the physical specimen that I am presently: an avid biker, who nevertheless is well overweight due to the consumption of bread products and good beer and so forth.

Keep getting sidetracked.

In the early 1980s "handicapped parking spaces" were brand new. There were no tags for your rearview mirror in Syracuse, nor were there norms around who could use the spots. As I recall, early on it was the honor system.

So my father, who had been circling the vast parking lot of the Shoppingtown Mall for several hours (or maybe mere minutes – sorry, no video footage to review, alas), was encountering some of the same cars over and over, whose drivers circled the lots also without luck. Frustrated, my dad decided to nab a handicapped spot so he could drop off a redweld folder or retrieve "the books" or whatever – a five-minute task.

As luck would have it, he emerges from his car, now parked in a handicapped spot, to lock eyes with the driver of another vehicle, who had been looking for parking for as long as my father had. The driver slowed and stared, and my father, who by today's standards would have easily qualified for a pass based on his heart condition, was forced to fake it. As my Dad told it, he decided to drag a leg from the car into the restaurant.

Let's face it, it takes a really good actor to do believable fake limp, but anyone can drag a perfectly healthy leg for 50 or so yards.

Or maybe it's harder than I thought! I've never really tried.

(Coming soon: memories of Murdock Street)! 

Continue reading
  659 Hits

 

 

Daily Haiku

 

Cats oft’ void their guts.

They cough out fur balls. They puke.  

We tread carefully.  

 

College Tuition

We dig ourselves a deep hole

Need a second job.

 

Now that I’m sixty

People think I’m a wise man

Probably, I’m not

 

I’m in my Fifties

But tomorrow I’m Sixty

Will need a sports car

 

My PCP Says

“Keep doin’ what yer doin’”

Prob’ly I should not

 

It’s St. Patrick’s Day

We eat beef that has been corned

Whatever that means

 

Robots and A.I.

I will make use of these soon

To do my taxes

 

Strange Oscar night end

Pacino failed to mention

Best pic nominees

 

Who’s this Katie Britt?

Scary. Wierd. We could have used

A Trigger Warning

 

Subscribe To The Blog

Produce This Audio Play!

Ever wanted to produce a radio play?  Think you have the mettle?  Read on!

Tag Cloud

Guns and Ammo Spice Girls Ketchup Putin soapbox rantings Skating Advertising Bicycles Radiohead Marketing Gimmicks Vaccines Fiction Allergies nukes Bikes NFL Candy Canadiana Things I've done Bob Dylan Stairs Hurricanes China vacation weather Peacekeeping Real Estate Canada Politics As Usual Car Dealerships Them Kids Spoon the band Big Shoes town square Godfather Barber Shops Bodysurfing Beer Rock Bands Imaginings Little League Ice Dancing Rabbit Hole Ticketmaster Soccer Motorists People I know technology US Senate Syracuse Belgian Ales Roommates I've Had Email Mass General Hospital College Butterfingers Christmas seasons Me Texting afterlife TV Eclipse Quebect Emergencies Peter Paul and Mary Communication Channels Brewing Reveillon Sugarbush NPR punk music Sports Existential Crisis Earth Audio Knots The future Dad advice Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde Snow Guns 1980s Bands I've seen cornhole Europe Royal Stuff Halloween COVID Bunker Zoom Mom and Dad When I die Trump Bill Monroe Drumming Good Reads plan mid-winter vacations Eating and Drinking Art high winds Work the sea gathering throngs Stories I should write Red Sox midwinter vacations Elvis Presley Sports Psychology tambourrine Theater The Old Days COVID-19 Boston Wind Ukraine Teeth coronavirus Scotch and Sirloin Climate Change Golf Hache Verde Reese's Peanut Butter Cups Bands I've Seen Joan Jett Yeast Mike Doughty Soul Coughing My Parents The Future Hand Planes Skiing Food New England acerbic high school principal Coyotes Bands I haven't seen My sisters Religion Soviet Union Brain Surgery baseball Liz Phair Plastic Cars Mustard Martinis The Past Music Pats Soup My grandparents Football Audubon Bar Hot Air Balloon My Estate Biden Masks curling shoes Grass Skiing Head injuries the future Smoke Meat BB King First World Problems War and Peace Short Fiction Folk Music Tom Waits winter Weather Diseases Chowder Vaughn Higher Education Cats Hawaii Cornhole star Accounting