Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Breakfast with Greg Perri - on the spot poem

Brrrrring!

Alarm goes off at 6:10 a.m. Shoulda been 6, but that's alright. I had to use extreme will power to go to sleep by midnight, after watching my fave Netflix and YouTube films - A Person of Interest, Blue Bloods, X-Files, and some docs by the Maysles Brothers.

I did not know that Albert Maysles just died in March of this year.

Did u know dat, Marcy?

Greg and I worked at the now-defunct Bristol-Bensalem Human Services Center, which was my favorite therapy job. Here's a few people I remember from those days:

Anne Johnson, my boss; the great receptionist Linda Cleighton who I wrote about in Blue Lyra Review; Greg Perri, who now has his PsyD degree. There was also Walt Hagosky.

Quick story about Walt. He was sitting up front and I sat down next to him.

"Does the name Harold Greenwold mean anything to you?"

"Yes," he said. "He was my ex-wife Marcy's boss."

Can't remember what Walt did at BBHSC other than have a blast at our Xmas parties. Shirt off, hips gyrating.

My dad died in 1980. Since he was such a great man, here's the crypt they built for him

Image result for harold greenwald grave cleveland


As I'm falling asleep last night in my bedroom, with the fan trained on to me - very hot - I remembered I hadn't any CASH to pay the train conductor.

The Wawa is right around the corner from the Willow Grove SEPTA Train Station, so I pulled in and used their free ATM to get ten dollars.

By now Scott, who was going for his daily constitutional to walk his back into shape walked into the ticket office.

I jumped!

Startle reflex.

He and the ticket agent began to chat. John Star had retired from SEPTA but was asked to replace the retired mean lady. John told me exactly how to find Jefferson Station - after Temple University - go through the tunnel - and then where to walk to find the diner.

Perfecto!

Oh, and he didn't think I was a senior citizen. We love that, don't we?

Greg, who's a neuropsychologist - was caught in a massive traffic jam but said he was real proud of himself b/c he figured out a better way to get from New Jersey to Philly.

When he arrived at the Down Home Diner, outside Reading Terminal Market, I was reading my Jack Reacher novel, and when I looked up, there he was!

Is it possible 20 years have passed since we saw one another?


He remembered when I had him over for dinner using my new Yellow Plates I bought at Genuardi's, now replaced by unbreakable Corelle.

He loves his job in Louisville. He's got two jobs.

 Here's my hearty b'fast...bacon was delicious... asparagus mushroom omelet... blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup that stuck to the table
Dave was our waiter. He helped me with my i Phone.

While waiting for Greg, I strolled around the Terminal


 Cheesecakes.
Fresh fish.

 Chicken

Here's Down Home Diner.

The Bassett's Ice Cream Store was not open. They no longer have a sit-down counter.

Afterward Greg and I walked around the market. He wanted two gifts for colleagues.... jams from the Amish.

He got Blueberry and Apple Jam.

Good choices, Greg!


Image result for septa train

When I first got on the train, it was freezing. Wore my sleeveless dress and brought a shirt to put on if it was too cold.

At the diner in my 'Jack Reacher novel' reading glasses.

Started minorly freaking out on the train. What if I get post-nasal drip and start choking. I don't have any water or cough drops.

It didn't happen.

Greg shared some stories about work. B/c he's a doctor - Doctor Perri - he calls his clients 'patients' while I call mine 'clients.'

"Gloria" is negativity incarnate. I walk up n down the street in my headphones while talking to her. She goes into a brief litany about what a terrible day she had.... every day is terrible.... and then I give her an assignment.

Nothing I do helps her, but at least she's gonna write some six-line poetry for me.

Here lemme quickly write a six-liner, using, as I told her... sight, sound, smell....

Iced coffee, sits atop my fan
in a lovely blue porcelain cup

The cold liquid goes down smooth
as gin, I remember Gramma Lily

and her friends - Gert and the rest -
gone to their graves after the
last canasta game.

Image result for canasta





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