It would be insanity to think that because tonight turns this night into a new calendar year starting tomorrow morning things will be different.
I’m good at insanity. I’ve practiced it a lot in my life and still do sometimes. But I do know that tomorrow morning if we all do what we’ve all always done, nothing will change.
The notion of New Year’s is one of the hope of change. Hence we make resolutions, which I gave up on a long time ago. If I actually followed my resolutions I’d be skinny now instead of still needing to diet.
That said, I continually pray to God. I’m not an atheist, so to any atheists out there, just consider that statement as an affirmation of hopefulness. For me it is faith and more.
Overall, I have little hope for us. Man is by nature selfish and greedy. Look at our ruling class, the American Politburo. I don’t expect them to change. First reasonable sign of change coming from them will be a simple one-size-fits-all imposition of strict term limits.
Not gonna happen because man is by nature selfish and greedy, and they (as a group) exemplify in real time the worst of that.
I don’t think 2021 will be much better than 2020. In fact I think it will be considerably worse. I think Covid will only be partly, and a small part at that, the reason as to why.
The average shelf life of a democracy is about a quarter-century. The way we educate our kids these days, that’s about 250 years. Seems to me we’re doing a great job of killing ours.
One thing 2020 has done for me is given me back gratitude. I am grateful. I’m thankful for so much it’s too much to elaborate here and now. Another time.
So on New Year’s Eve if you think there’s a magic bullet out there that’s gonna make things better starting tomorrow morning, forget about it.
If you think our leaders and the world leaders are going to do better, nice thought, but forget about it.
Regardless, think good thoughts, look to the sun and keep love and gratitude in your heart.
By Peter Weiss
To All My Friends And Followers:
Wishing you all the best in the new year.
Thanks for making it a great year here. Thanks for following, viewing and reading. Thanks for all the likes.
Fun with words and words for fun.
Remember to always look to the sun.
Keep on keeping on.
Bill did the whole setup by himself. In one way it was no big deal, but in another together they could have done the work in half the time.
Jimmy G slept. When he woke he smoked a cigarette and sat reading his Greek magazine. Kalista implored him several times to get up and help Bill but Jimmy G sat listening with deaf ears.
Jimmy Banquet Chef brought dinner for them all. He was later than usual but it didn’t matter because everything was low key. He came with a kitchen truck on which he had the specials too.
The first special was stuffed baked chicken breast with a ham and cheese stuffing and which would be topped with mushroom sauce. The second was rolled filet of sole stuffed with spinach and mushrooms topped with white wine sauce and mushrooms. Bill knew the banquet chef was using up the sauces from the morning parties and he was also using the remainders of the chicken and fish that had not been cooked off for the parties. Everything was super fresh, Bill knew. It was good business from the food cost standpoint.
They all sat down to eat only when everything for the dinner service was set in place and ready to go. It was a jovial dinner. Jimmy Banquet Chef served everyone stuffed sole. He had made a dozen extra portions. Jimmy G ate again. He had eaten twice from the buffet table. Kalista added her usual wonderful Greek salad.
The one difference in tonight’s meal was that the waitresses were invited and extra chairs were brought in. This had unintended consequences for the first part of the meal, mostly until they got to the dessert. The Greeks spoke English and everyone participated in a friendly, holiday discussion. Even Caesar came in and spent a moment with the crew. Jimmy Banquet Chef offered him dinner, but he declined. He left them after a short while saying he had to watch the front.
Dessert was Kalista’s homemade baklava and an assortment of other Greek pastries. She served the baklava herself and put out a full tray of the sweets. Then she made espresso for everyone. That done, she told everyone she’d leave the sweets out all night so they could help themselves.
Only thing missing from the dinner was drink. Would have been nice if Caesar had brought out a bottle of white wine. Might have been nice if he’d cracked open a champagne. He could have done that, maybe should have done that, but he didn’t. Well, at least he had come out to wish everyone a good meal.
After they ate Bill and Jimmy Banquet Chef went down the ramp a ways to smoke a cigarette. They stood side by side leaning against the wall.
“I’d apologize for my cousin,” the banquet chef said, “but he should be doing that.”
“It’s okay,” Bill said.
“It’s not okay. I don’t know what to do with him. I don’t want to lose you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Other cooks have said the same thing. A few more months, you’ll be able to work in any hotel. There’s other chains in this town. You could go now and get a job. A few more months and you’ll make more money.”
“Why would I leave?”
“Sooner or later everyone gets pissed off at my cousin.”
Bill didn’t say anything immediately. Finally he said, “I like your aunt. I like you and Victor. I even like Jimmy.”
“You still have to watch out for Caesar.”
“We made a little inroad tonight. I initiated it.”
“That was smart.”
“It just came to me, popped into my head. Seemed like a right thing to do.”
“I still wouldn’t trust him.”
“I’m dying to hear about that waitress he made quit. Your aunt has teased me with it but she hasn’t let me know anything about it.”
“My aunt sees and knows everything.” Jimmy Banquet Chef smiled, puffed his cigarette. “She’ll tell you when she sees fit,” he said.
By Peter Weiss
After the kiss, Rosie turned and asked, “Wanna pet my tail?” They were alone in the kitchen and Bill had no indication that his partner would be joining him there soon.
“Why not?” he said. He stepped close to her reached down. Of course the tail was not what he went to pet and Rosie, not shy with him at all anymore, leaned a little forward to make his petting her a bit easier.
“It’s gonna be really slow,” she said. “Wanna meet up? It is Christmas Eve.”
“Sure,” Bill said.
He took only a quick feel, an inside, intimate one, one to let him know that Rosie was already expectant. Primed might be another way to have thought about it, or, the well was already running and all he had done was kiss her and prime it a bit.
“I have to finish setting up,” Bill said. “Have to make a couple more trips to the kitchen. Jimmy doesn’t look like he’s gonna be helping any.”
“Well, I’ll see you in a bit,” Rosie said.
Bill’s espresso was waiting for him when he went back out to the truck and where Kalista was. His partner, he saw, was fast asleep there by his aunt and when Bill went to take up his coffee, Kalista gave him a look.
“What am I to do?” she said.
“It’s okay,” Bill said.
“Is not okay,” said Kalista. “Is anything but okay.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. But it does get tiresome, and I’ve only been here two months now.”
“Yes,” Kalista said. “Sooner or later, the chef has to do something. I tell Victor and my other Jimmy to talk to him, but this one,” she said nodding toward Jimmy G, “he don’t care and he’s lazy.”
“There was a time not too long ago I’d have killed for a job,” Bill said. He sipped his espresso quickly, finished it and put the cup in the bus box.
“I have to go back to the main kitchen,” Bill said. “Let him sleep.”
Edelgarde was waiting for Bill down the ramp where no one from The Falstaff Room could see them. She surprised Bill and he was startled.
“Rosie said you petted her tail,” Edelgarde said. “Mine is just as soft.” She smiled at Bill and turned so he could see the tail attached to the uniform.
Bill locked the wheel on the truck and stepped away from it. He took a moment to look all around them. Not only were they alone and isolated, but from what he could see and understood, it was like a ghost town there.
He did not pet her tail. He pinned Edelgarde against the wall and kissed her. He did not kiss softly or easily or even passionately. He kissed roughly, forcefully, a kiss that was meant to tell her he was taking control and she should yield to him, which she did and not unhappily.
He pressed her there, kissing her all the while, forcing her tongue to do what his wanted her to. As they kissed he reached between them and let himself inside her skimpy uniform bottom and her panties underneath.
Edelgarde kissed back now more greedily, more hungrily. She moved gently with his fingers as they manipulated her. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.
“Say please,” Bill said.
“Please.”
He didn’t stop. He kept on until it was done, fait accompli, le petit mort.”
“I’m breathless,” Edelgarde said. “I need a moment to recover.”
Bill stepped slightly away from her and lit a cigarette. He took a long drag on it and held it out to her. She puffed it from his hand.
“My God,” she said leaning heavily into the wall.
“Merry Christmas,” Bill said.
“It’s not Christmas yet.” Eddie smiled at Bill. “Not by a long shot,” she said.
By Peter Weiss
Even Caesar was wearing one of those Christmas hats, the red velvet cone-shaped ones with the white pom-pom on the top, that and his tuxedo. He was standing at his maître d’ stand looking through his book when Bill came in and first saw him. Instead of the usual black bow tie, he wore a green one with candy canes on it. His facial expression, Bill thought, said “bah, humbug.”
Humbug was how Bill felt. He’d already been in the hotel all day and he would be there all night. His wife was at her parents’ house. They would be going over to her aunt’s house for Christmas eve celebration. Bill would miss that.
After work, Bill would be going to his wife at her parent’s house. Then he would be off to the hotel to work the Falstaff Room on Christmas Day. The room was open early and was closing at ten. No big deal really.
As a lark, when Bill had put the things he’d carried in down in the kitchen, he walked over to Caesar. He and Caesar had not really spoken except for business dealings since their bad start. But seeing Caesar in the stupid hat and Christmas bow tie, Bill sensed two things, first and opening and second a weakness. After all, it was Christmas.
As he approached Caesar, he put out his hand to shake.
Caesar was taken aback. He looked up from his book and reached over the little podium-type stand and shook hands with Bill.
“Merry Christmas,” Bill said.
“Merry Christmas to you,” Caesar returned.
“Maybe we can get past the crappy start we had,” Bill said. “New Year’s is right around the corner. I don’t see any point in continuing the animosity. It’s not good for you, not good for me, and most certainly not good for the room.”
“You’re right,” Caesar said. “Let’s shake on that too.”
“Good deal,” Bill said.
They shook hands a second time and Caesar came around from his stand and walked Bill back to the kitchen.
“What have we got for tonight?” he asked.
“It’s not here yet, but some nice fish and chicken specials. I think the banquet chef is cooking turkeys for tomorrow. There’ll be stuffing too.”
“I don’t have many reservations for tonight. It’s a sleeper I think.”
“Yeah, well, we’ve been doing great business, so I’ve been told. The real measure will come after the holidays.”
“Winter is slower,” Caesar said.
“Maybe we can break that pattern.”
“That would be nice.”
“Well, here’s to a good Christmas and good new year,” Bill said.
He reached out one last time to shake Caesar’s hand. The two men shook hands and Caesar went back to his maître d’ stand while Bill continued the kitchen setup. He put away everything he’d set down in the kitchen then went out to where Kalista was, where they’d left the cart. Jimmy G was sitting by his aunt drinking an espresso.
“Gonna work today?” Bill asked.
“Not unless I have to.”
Kalista reached over to her nephew and slapped him one on the back of his head. “Why you make the boy work so hard?” she asked.
Jimmy G didn’t say anything. He didn’t move either. He sat and quietly sipped his coffee.
“Want espresso?” Kalista said.
“Sure.”
Bill went back to unloading the cart no longer counting on Jimmy G to help out. When he came back through the double door, his hands full, he met with the a surprise which was Rosie and Edelgarde both standing at the entry to the kitchen. They had hung a piece of mistletoe over the entryway. He saw that they wore the same hat as Caesar was wearing. He also saw that they had big cotton tails in the appropriate place on the back of their uniforms. They wore big, big smiles on their faces.
Both girls stepped aside so Bill could set down the things he carried. Then, Edelgarde first and Rosie right after, they each stepped enough into the kitchen such that Caesar could not see them and kissed Bill. They both chose long, passionate and intimate kisses.
By Peter Weiss
Jimmy G was still asleep when Bill got back to the locker room. Bill had expected him to at least be up and stirring, but he was out and snoring.
Jimmy Banquet Chef wanted to throw cold water on his cousin. He was waiting for Bill and shushed him before he came upon Jimmy G.
“Lazy son of a bitch,” Jimmy Banquet Chef said. “Even if he is my own cousin, my own blood. You know how much trouble he’s caused me here?”
“I sort of got the idea from your aunt,” Bill said.
“My aunt likes you. She likes you more than any other cook we’ve had out there. She wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
“I’m being good,” Bill said.
“You been with Beverly?”
“We were just talking,” Bill said. “She’s got a lot going on.”
“You been pretty quiet lately with the girls.”
“I never asked for anything from any of them. I never started anything either.”
“Well it finds you, don’t it?”
“It doesn’t find you?”
“It could. But I got too much family here. Can’t even have whispers coming around. Anyway, let’s get him up and get you going. Bet Caesar’s having a fit without you even showing up out there yet.”
“Good. Let him — I better not say it,” Bill said.
“Yeah. Best keep it to yourself.”
Jimmy Banquet Chef kicked his cousin on the bottoms of his feet which he had up on the bench on which he was laying. When Jimmy G didn’t stir, he kicked him again. This time, slowly, Jimmy G got up and started sitting up.
“Get up you lazy bastard,” the banquet chef said to his cousin. I’m not letting the boy set up all by himself. He offered to, but I told him no.”
“Ya,” Jimmy G said, yawning as he said it. “Ya.”
So they all washed up even though Bill and the banquet chef didn’t need to. Jimmy G ran water on his face to wake himself up. Then they went out to the kitchen floor and Jimmy Banquet Chef peeled off from them and went into the chef’s office. Bill and Jimmy G went by the buffet table which was still out there and filled with all kinds of nice things. Jimmy G made himself a pastrami on rye and stood by the table eating it.
“I’ll get the truck,” Bill said.
On his way back with the truck Bill ran into Rosie and Edelgarde. They were in red today with white trim and white stockings. They both wore Christmas hats. They said quick hellos and went opposite ways, but not before Rosie told Bill she had a surprise for him.
“I’ll be there in a bit,” Bill said.
“We’re gonna be slow tonight,” Edelgarde said. “We always are on Christmas eve. But we’ll be busy tomorrow. Everyone in the hotel comes out to eat Christmas dinner.”
“You know what?” Bill said. “It will be what it will be and then we’ll be done with it.
Bill turned for a moment and watched them walk away from him. He couldn’t help but enjoy the view of their lovely shapes. In the skimpy maid’s outfits their shapes were hidden in plain sight. He could see almost everything if he looked hard enough, but he’d already seen everything so he didn’t have to look too hard to know what he was looking at. They knew he was looking. They knew he liked to look as much as they liked to be looked at by him.
Then Bill was back in the kitchen. Jimmy G was eating dessert, a big piece of chocolate cake. He was clearly enjoying himself and the cake and he didn’t seem to have any inclination to be doing any work at all.
“Ya,” he said to Bill. “Don’t worry. We’ll be ready.”
Bill wasn’t worried. He wasn’t worried at all. He knew they would be ready. He knew if they wanted to they could double-time it and complete their set up in half the time they normally took.
By Peter Weiss
Bill found his way to the staircase shortly after two, later than he’d hoped. The banquet crew was gangbusters, hell-bent on getting out as quickly as possible. They all went into speed gear to clean up, straighten up, put everything away properly. That done, they had a quick holiday drink on the chef and cut out.
Jimmy G didn’t do much to help out. He never did. He did only the least possible that would be accepted. Done a few minutes before everyone else, he went off to sleep. That’s where Bill saw him when he went down to the locker room to wash up before heading over to see Beverly. He did not disturb his partner. They had until three to start setting up for the night.
Beverly was standing looking out the window when Bill got there. She did not turn upon his approach so he walked to her and stood next to her.
He swung his hip and bumped her gently. “Hey girl,” he said.
“Hey boy,” she returned.
“How you doing?”
“I’m actually pretty great.”
“Well that’s good to hear. I’d have thought you’d cut out quick as possible on a day like today, holiday and all.”
“My sister’s on till four. I’m waiting for her. I’m staying with her now for awhile.”
“Really?”
“Yup. So we came in together and will go home together.”
“That why you’re great?”
“Yup. It’s all done. I confronted him. He didn’t deny it, didn’t apologize much for it, didn’t really give me any indication that he was interested in us going on together. So I packed some shit and took off.”
“Why’d you leave?”
“Cause I don’t want to pay the rent. Cause I don’t want to be there in that place. Cause I’m taking this as an opportunity to make some new and fresh choices.”
“I’m proud of you,” Bill said. “I’m sorry it went this way for you. I don’t mean what your choice was. I mean what he did that caused you to make the choice. But I’m proud you made it and now you can move on as you see fit. Big grown up decision you made.”
“I have you to thank, in part. I knew I had to do something, but you kind of pushed it to the front and made it the priority.”
“And now it’s done.”
“New day. New dawn. Christmas with my sister and my family, no him.”
“And how do you feel?”
“Relieved. Happy. Sad. Awkward. Alone. Scared. That enough for you?”
“Sounds about right. Kind of like I felt when they led me off to the workhouse. Only scared was first on my list.”
“How could you be happy when you were heading off to jail?”
“Cause I knew exactly what I was getting and I knew it was gonna be over. That was better than being in limbo. Only surprises left were what I would find at the workhouse.”
“You gonna tell me about it?”
“Not now. Right here and right now we should be talking about you.”
“Nothing much to say. I’m thinking about things. I’m making plans. I have some rules.”
“Can’t wait to hear the rules,” Bill said.”
“Only two so far,” Beverly said. “First, no fooling around with anyone here, present company excepted cause we already been somewhat down that road. I mean no waiters, no one out there, nothing that could come back to me. Second is no dating outside of here for at least six months.”
“Sounds good,” Bill said.
“The third one that’s coming, that isn’t quite formulated yet but kind of underscores everything is me first. Just me.”
“That sounds good too,” Bill said.
“It is good,” Beverly said. “All this, what’s happening, is my Christmas present to myself.” Beverly turned to face Bill now for the first time. “You know what I see out there? Outside this window? I see freshness, a cold, clear day with the potential for anything. And that makes me happy.”
“Good for you,” Bill said.
By Peter Weiss
Turns out that Beverly’s party was not the one Bill’s station dished up. Turns out that Nora’s party was not the one Bill’s station dished up. Turns out that Millie was standing with Chloe by the buffet table in the kitchen when the dish-up went on. Turns out they were standing together and both watching Bill as he worked.
This dish-up was an easy one. His party was one of the bigger ones, for a hundred twenty-six people, more than ninety of them chicken.
The runner, a steward, brought the first pan, and it all started. Bill dished up a chicken, one of the stewards put on the duchess potato and the vegetable and another steward sauced it. The waiter – Bill’s party had all waiters – capped it and stacked the plates on his tray.
One after the next after the next, each one the same, they worked through. The only thing that changed was the waiter. Each waiter took four stacks of five plates and hoisted the tray on his shoulder to head off. As he left, the next waiter placed his tray down and began capping plates. It was frowned upon if the waiter held up the dish-up. The waiters all knew this and made sure not to do so.
Each time a pan got low the runner got a new one. This was also timed not to disrupt the flow of plates. Same was true for the flat kitchen trays of duchess potatoes and the pans of vegetables. Each station had its own runner for those items, and no runner wanted to misstep and mess up the flow.
Continuity, sameness, perfection. Done.
The fifth tray had the remainder of the chicken and the rest fish. A sixth and seventh tray went out with just fish. The fish were placed on a central station out in the dining room kitchen and each waiter took what was needed for his tables.
“Fish will be out momentarily,” was their standard line.
It didn’t take long for all the parties to go. It was a slam-bam, thank you ma’am deal. The waiters hung out to make sure the people all had what they needed, what they wanted, and since the buffet table was back in the kitchen all day and had a better selection of foods than the banquet fare, the waiters didn’t bother to ask for or sneak extra plates for themselves. They did take what they could from the open bar, not in drinking there on the job but by taking bottles of whiskey from the cases delivered.
For these parties on this day, not much whiskey could be stolen, but some was. It would go up for sale on the black market there in the hotel. It was an active black market.
Very little food, when all was said and done, was left over. The fish all went, as did the chicken, though there were about a half dozen chicken entrees left. Because there was sauce left over for both, Jimmy Banquet Chef, in regard for Christmas Eve, decided he would make a fish special. Bill was good with that because a nice fish special sold well and was really easy to serve. It only needed to be warmed in the Dutch oven. The sauce stayed hot on the steam table. Piece of cake.
Immediately after the dish-up when the kitchen end of it was done, the stewards went for more eggnog. They drank it down fast and came back to their respective stations where they began the breakdown. Bill did not drink eggnog. He did not drink anything since he still had a long night ahead of him. But he did keep looking toward the buffet table to see who was there. He did not see Chloe though he would find out that she watched him do his station’s main item dish-up. He would learn that she watched him all the way through, or just until she could cut out without him seeing her.
By Peter Weiss
We’ll keep this one short too. For all you Democrat-dogma supporters, nah, nah, nah, boo boo on you. Only one thing left to say besides imploring you to think for yourselves independently and that is: be careful — you may just get what you ask for.
You/we all have choices. You can believe what Pravda USA mainstream media Democrat lapdogs want you to believe, or you can look at things independently for yourself. You can question, or you can accept. You can act like an ostrich and bury your heads in the sand or…
Once again, and straight out for the record…
In 1970 at the Ohio State University demonstration in which six hundred people were arrested, I was the first one. Six unidentified FBI agents were beating on a demonstrator, a small kid not more than 135 pounds soaking wet. I went to help him, they knocked me out, I came to in a paddy wagon. An undercover policeman led us through a conversation that was recorded and showed up verbatim at my trial.
Here was the offer: plead guilty to misdemeanor assault and battery on a police officer, resisting arrest and disorderly conduct and be allowed to graduate (not be expelled from the University), get sixty days in the workhouse and a two hundred fifty dollar fine. The trial would be held off until I finished up my last trimester and graduated.
Or:
Don’t plead guilty. Be re–arrested for a felony, rioting one. Go to trial almost immediately and be facing a year in the state penitentiary. Bail would go up so high I couldn’t post it and I’d be expelled, hence not graduate, upon being found guilty.
My lawyer refused to let me do anything other than take the plea deal. He said they would surely find me guilty in the political climate there at that time and that I wouldn’t last a week in the penn. What he actually said was a young boy like me, they’d kill me (literally) in the first week.
My lawyer also said that if I refused to take the deal he’d quit my case and he’d make sure that any other attorney I got made me take the deal.
So I lied. I didn’t lie about being innocent. I lied about being guilty. I said I did something I surely didn’t do.
Think independently. Look what they did to Flynn. Check out who did it, who lied about what they did and why they did both.
They are guilty. Not Flynn.
Flynn was the key to… We all know what the Democrat-dogma-people can’t/won’t say.
Two things to remember: be an independent thinker, and, you lefties, be careful because you may just get what you want and discover it’s not at all what you think it is or you thought it would be.
