Our New Year’s Tradition

“Preserving tradition has become a nice hobby, like stamp collecting.”
~ Mason Cooley

“I had only one superstition. I made sure to touch all the bases when I hit a home run.” ~ Babe Ruth

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Tradition means (according to Merriam-Webster’s dictionary):

1. an inherited, established, or customary pattern of thought, action, or behavior (as a religious practice or a social custom)
2. a belief or story or a body of beliefs or stories relating to the past that are commonly accepted as historical though not verifiable
3. the handing down of information, beliefs, and customs by word of mouth or by example from one generation to another without written instruction
4. cultural continuity in social attitudes, customs and institutions, characteristic manner, method, or style

Superstition means (according to Merriam-Webster’s dictionary):

1. A belief or practice resulting from ignorance, fear of the unknown, trust in magic or chance, or a false conception of causation
2. An irrational abject attitude of mind toward the supernatural, nature or God resulting from superstition
3. A notion maintained despite evidence to the contrary

I won’t belabor the point by including the grammar and pronunciation – because I think you get the point.

Let me explain why we had to revisit 4th grade (and you didn't even have to write the words 5 times each!) J

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In 1986, Lou Holtz had a sign commissioned when he became the head coach after seeing the phrase “Play like a Champion Today” written in a book about Notre Dame football. He had it placed on the route to the field so players could slap it as they passed it. Tradition?

Yet, if a player wears the same socks for every game or gets dressed in a certain routine, we consider that superstition.

So because an iconic coach made the gesture of putting up a sign (that the players slap) or a player chooses to put on one sock, one shoe, one sock, one shoe… aren’t they both tradition superstition?

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Some people are funny about their Christmas tree. Tradition says you can’t put your Christmas tree up until after Thanksgiving and you should never take it down until after New Year’s. Why? Who said? Is that really tradition or superstition?

And who said you can’t wear white after Labor Day or until Easter? Is it really a fashion emergency or is that tradition or superstition?

Some things can be identified as true superstition – like “it’s a full moon” (so the nuts are out) and you should say “break a leg” instead of “good luck” to a performer – because apparently saying “good luck” is actually “bad luck”.

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Nan Guy (my Dad’s mom) was very superstitious about some stuff. Like, she had a rocking chair in her living room that if no one was sitting in it – you couldn’t rock it.  You know, like you’re a kid… laying on the floor and your foot is in on the rung of the rocker and you start to rock it…. Uh-Uh!  Evidently it brings bad luck.

We (my cousins and I) were also taught:

• Friday the thirteenth is an unlucky day

• A rabbit's foot brings good luck

• An apple a day keeps the doctor away

• To find a four-leaf clover is to find good luck

• If you walk under a ladder, you will have bad luck

• If a black cat crosses your path you will have bad luck

• To break a mirror will bring you seven years bad luck

• To open an umbrella in the house is to bring bad luck

And one of my favorites:

• If you put your shirt on inside out (or backwards) – it had to stay that way until you changed – because apparently, that was good luck

Nan Guy had a couple other quirky superstitions – and I guess that’s a “gift” I inherited, too because most of those that I listed - I still believe and I’ve actually added a few more to the list.

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There is a New Year’s tradition - New Year’s Eve related - that Aboy and I have observed going back to the mid 90’s. I don’t remember how it came to be but it’s true and I’m not going to tempt fate and try to do something to hurt my chances for a good year.

“How you spend New Year’s is how you will live the entire year”

No biggy, right?  WRONG!

We established this in the mid 90’s because through observation (and reflection) we noticed that if we were together (and happy) for New Year’s, we’d generally have an argument free year.

If we went out, drinking, with friends and family … our year was a “party” – lots of hanging out and drinking and late nights.

And if we were separated (because of work or we just weren’t together) – our year was filled with long hours working or arguments and separation.

So in saying that, I’ve peeled back another layer on that onion.

On New Year’s Eve, my house is immaculate. All the dishes are washed, put away and all the clothes are clean and hung up. All the dusting is done, carpets are cleaned and clutter is confined. Aboy doesn’t drink anymore and even though I do, I may just have a glass of wine or a mixed drink for New Year’s. Most importantly, (even though Aboy gripes about it every year) – we are home, together.

What makes me laugh about our tradition is if we manage to stay up long enough to watch the ball drop, generally for the year, we’re able to stay up past 10pm and still wake up at a working hour (around 6am). If we fall asleep and miss the ball… it will be a year of “in the bed by 9” for us.

So you can see why it’s so important my house is in order! I would lose my mind if I woke up to a cluttered, dirty house for an entire year and because of forces beyond my control – would have no ability to change that outcome until the following year!

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So before I go - because there are carpets to wash and shelves to dust... I would like to wish everyone a Happy New Year and best wishes for a healthy and prosperous 2012!!!

I’ll finish with this Irish Proverb:

“May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past.”

An offer you can't refuse: Cheap Spaghetti Sauce

For my Long Island Couponers.

If you live on Long Island, King Kullen is running a sale on Barilla Pasta Sauce 2 Jars for $5.
After coupons, you will pay 50¢ a jar – if you follow these instructions.
The sale ends 12/31/2011 – so you’ll have to move quickly.

You can find King Kullen’s Circular: HERE

You can print the$1 off 1 Barilla Coupon: HERE (use zip code 90210 – then look under Foods)

Print 2 copies.
If you have 2 computers - you can print 4 (check KK's like item doubling limit per shopping trip)

King Kullen allows you to double up to (5) $1 coupons per shopping trip.

You’re going to use (2) $1 off 1 coupons = $4 off.
King Kullen also doubles an unlimited amount of 99¢ coupons.
(I think there is a “like item” limit per order – check with the store).

2 for $5 Barilla Pasta Sauce

~(2) $1 off 1 Barilla Pasta Sauce (printable)
= 50¢ each

Just in time for some baked ziti for New Years!

**Stop & Shop has Barilla on sale 2/$4 - but they only double up to 99¢**

When a gift is a curse (and vice-versa)

Kinda like Kermit the frog (it ain’t easy being green), I find myself quite often identifying with his logic. It ain’t easy being a “Guy”. Many of you that I went to school with do not understand the pressure bestowed on me because of that last name.  Not to mention the endless jokes (I’m sure it didn’t help that I was a tom-boy all through school).

I had to hear from my parents:

“Your grandfather worked hard to build up the “Guy” name!”

“You need to care about what people think – always be aware of your actions to protect the “Guy” honor!”

And other shit like that.

Like being a “Guy” was royalty in Bay Shore. <pssht!>

Well, I’m a logical type’a “Gal” (and a truth seeker)… and what I’ve come to find out (remember, I drove a cab for 19 years IN BAY SHORE)… my Grandfather was a male whore. He was very handsome and attractive and entertained many women. The exact quote from one of my cab co-workers was: “Dick could walk into a bar and women would buy him drinks and he rarely went home alone”. He’s been divorced 4 times all ready and even now at 92, he still flirts with the deli clerk at the local grocery. I have an Aunt and Uncle that are (substantially) younger than me.  So, on the big picture of things – sounds like the “Guy’s” are pretty regular people to me.

I’d say my life turned out much better than some because even though Aboy and I have our share of issues, 1. We’re still married, 2. All 4 of our kids are pretty productive and intelligent, 3. We don’t depend on anyone but us or blame anyone but us – for our life.

Getting married and changing my last name was cool. Unfortunately being a “Guy” is engrained in my soul (and has been passed on to my children). Determination (stubbornness) is one the biggest “gifts” I’ve bestowed on my children – and just like luggage, you never really get rid of it. This same “gift”, produces an insatiable desire to WIN at everything.

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Being a “Cuffie” has its challenges as well. The entire Cuffie family is a “no-nonsense” group. In the tri-town area (Bay Shore, Brentwood, Central Islip), there are not too many people that don’t know at least one “Cuffie”.

I heard many stories about the “Cuffie’s” at the cab too. Jack #9 was a Brentwood guy and one of his friends was killed in a bar fight by one of Aboy’s uncles (using his bare hands).

One of Aboy’s Aunts had got mugged on Second Ave in Bay Shore – but, beat the guy up, dragged him to Hambone’s (my father-in-law) house - about 3 houses away - and then wanted her brothers (who were over there visiting) to continue the ass-whippin’ (even though the guy was near unconsciousness).

Even my loving, caring, sweet husband has put a guy in a coma (because the guy and his friend had tried to jump Aboy a couple days before). He caught the guy by himself, hit him with one punch… then ran to his grandmother’s house up the block and sat on the couch – trying to act like nothing happened.

That’s a pretty big reputation to uphold (or live down).

Being a “Cuffie”, it’s like they have a “gift” – called the 6^th sense for bullshit. They can see right through it and take very little of it. Unfortunately, not all of the Cuffie’s have been given the “gift” to argue and violence is usually the answer to resolve bullshit.

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And then there were kids...

So just like you hope your kids have green eyes or straight teeth – through some form of osmosis, they inherit these “gifts”.

Yup, I have fighters that won’t quit.

I like to call them my “warriors” and they were raised by the Hambone mottos: “When one fight, yous all fight!” and “If someone hits you, hit them back. If you don’t fight back, I’m going to whip your ass when you get home” (so, that makes 2 ass-whippin’s in 1 day). 

I remember one time – when we lived in South Carolina… I worked nights, so I slept during the day. My kids were allowed to be outside (while I slept) as long as they stayed near the yard – or played in the street (we lived on a dead end) – under the premise I could see them and they could hear me when I called them.  A (teenage) boy came to the house to fight Wes (who was about 11 or 12 at the time). His friends had boosted him up to fight Wes (pick a reason, Wes was: handsome, bi-racial, well mannered, athletic, all the little girls loved him… I don’t know why kids want to fight).  I was sleeping and Rachel ran inside to tell me “Mommy! Wes is fighting in the front yard!” I went outside and caught the end of it – and Wes definitely walked the dog on that kid.  So, like any rational, compassionate “mom” would do – I lectured the kid… “Now you see, you had your little friends amp you up and come to my house to fight my son and he whipped your ass – and if he didn’t whip your ass – what he did to you, I’da did to him – so now go home and tell your mother – so she can get some too.”

No more problems from anyone in that neighborhood.

I didn’t raise bullies. I raised finishers. My kids didn’t just go around kickin’ ass randomly, but I can’t remember too many of the fights they were provoked into, that any of them lost. They didn’t get into trouble for fighting – they got into trouble if they didn’t fight back. In some cases, they were targeted. Being bi-racial (especially in the south) is hard because they are too dark to be white and not dark enough to be black. My kids had developed the 6^th sense for bullshit.

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And then we have… the real world. After Littleton, Colorado – where the kids shot up the high school… a lot of schools took on the “no tolerance” policy.

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I remember when Ben and Wes were in high school - getting a call from Mr. Lemp (who was the Dean at the time)… “Mrs. Cuffie… I have both your sons in the office today… Wes was supposed to be in the cafeteria, but Ben was supposed to be in biology.” He went on to say that some kids were throwing snow around in the small (banana) cafeteria and a snowball hit Wes (according to Wes, he said “I better not get hit with any snow”). He flung his cookie (quite accurately) and hit the girl (that threw the snow) with the cookie.  The girl rushed Wes, but before she could get to Wes, Ben (who beats up girls – that think they can fight boys), snatched the girl in a choke hold and slammed her on the cafeteria table… that’s when security stepped in. Everyone involved got suspended. I didn't punish my sons because they followed the rules - "if someone hits you, hit them back" and "when one fights, yous all fight".  

I have sons and daughters. If a girl hits my son(s), they are fair game to at least get slammed. If you think you are strong enough to fight a boy… then you are willing enough to catch a beat down.  I don’t feel like I, as a parent of boys – should be teaching my sons not to hit girls (because I did teach them not to throw the first punch)… I think parents of girls should be teaching their daughters to keep their hands off boys. End of story.

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I know many of you are thinking “OMG!”… but, as far as we’ve come as a society and as rational as we should be – sometimes ignorance is educated best through violence. Like I’ve said – my kids were not allowed to throw the first punch – but they had better finish it, to lay all doubt to rest… “We don’t take no shit”.  The logic is very primitive – but raising my kids with that mentality – I can’t say I’ve feared for their safety (even when Ben was in Afghanistan), because I know they were given the defensive tools and awareness to protect themselves.

IMHO (cause I'm not a psychologist or anything), there would be less bullying if parents encouraged their kids to fight back – instead of internalizing their fears and self-imploding. Funny thing about Bullies… most of them can’t fight.

What happens in Vegas: Part II

It has been argued by me… oh, wait… wrong post.

So, I can’t actually elaborate on what Aboy and I did in Vegas – but our adventures getting there and coming home were a lot of fun. We laughed a lot. We ate too much. Most importantly, we caught up on life – after being separated for so long.

We rode through a lot of mountains. The scenery is all that!  I got some nice pics of Lake Meade and we crossed over the Hoover Dam. I definitely think we will have to go back on personal time to explore those landmarks on a more intimate level. It was breathtaking from a distance; I can just imagine how inspiring it will be, up close and personal.

Lake Meade

Hoover Dam

We had to divert our return trip. There was a monstrous blizzard (that threatened to close down parts of I-40), so we came back through the lower portions of Arizona and New Mexico via I-10. It added about 160 miles to the trip – but the peace of mind was priceless.

I’ve never been on I-10 either. I’m glad I got to see it with Aboy. It’s a lot like portions of I-40 with the majesty and phenomena of miles of mountains and valleys… and then there are (really, really) long stretches of… nothing.

I have to say though, the desert is not how I imagined. I didn’t see any buzzards or skeletons or tumbleweeds. If anything, there was a lot of vegetation growing along the highway. Another perception that was debunked.

What I did notice was a heavier police presence on I-10. Not only a lot of local sheriff and police patrols, but most notably Border Patrol.

We spent the night, on the way back - in Eloy, Arizona. Border Patrol was in and out of the truck stop all night, getting fuel and coffee. I’m not sure what to make of it – I’m kind of in limbo – because you hear the stories of ranchers getting shot by Mexican drug cartels, but this actually made it all seem “real”. I’m not really sure if I could live like that. I guess someone that’s from that area would say the same thing about us living on Redington Street in Bay Shore – I’m sure it’s all what you’re accustomed to and what is familiar.

We actually went through a checkpoint in New Mexico where a Border Patrol officer climbed up on the running boards of the rig and asked Aboy what he was hauling and if I was a co-driver (to which I replied – in my best Edith Bunker – “Oh no offisuh, I’m his wife!”).

Good thing we left the drugs and the guns at home (that is a joke).

What was really cool was I got to see Mexico when we passed through El Paso, Texas. It was literally on the other side of the fence!

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Even though we got to “see” the beauty of New Mexico and Arizona, I’m not completely removing “taking a road-trip across I-40 & I-10” off the bucket list. I think Aboy and I owe it to ourselves to be tourists and spend the night in some small towns along the ride and instead of making the trip to Vegas and back in 5 days, taking about 2 weeks to really enjoy it and experience the area.

I said that to say this

I feel deflated. I’m a truth-seeker by nature and I feel like I just found out the Yankees aren’t the greatest baseball team to ever play the game!

Yes… THAT bad!

In yesterday’s post I shared my turmoil of Church, being a “Christian” and what I’ve learned about the true meaning of Christmas. Honestly, my entire religious upbringing was based on lies! Yeah, I have the fundamental values of being a Christian – but some of this stuff is just folklore being passed off as gospel. I was duped into believing that CHRISTmas was for the birth of Jesus Christ – when in actuality, Christians used an existing Pagan holiday feast and slowly changed the meaning to suit their needs. Also, just like any other thing you’ve ever encountered in your life – depending on who is telling the story, the story or vision changes.

(I’m throwing a tantrum right now – you just can’t see it!)

A comment that I made on my Facebook page regarding yesterday’s blog:

I love Christmas, but like I'm finding out - growing up as a Catholic - I actually embrace some (other) Pagan values. It's probably why I struggled so much as a Catholic and just feel like my spirituality is what's most important - not what church I belong to. Religion (denomination) is just the "word" that you believe. Spirituality is what you feel with your heart. I've never been much of a follower - so as long as I walk the walk, it doesn't matter what denomination I identify with - as long as I live a righteous life.

The title "Google is the devil" just means that - all the things "they" (the people that preach) didn't want you to know (because we all follow along aimlessly - thinking we're being good "Christians") - is now available through a Google search. Even though everything is compromised by interpretation - it's kind of like reading an article in Newsday. You take it with a grain of salt, do your own research and make your own decision based on your research.

Now what?

I still believe in God, but I have to be honest – I have some reservations about the recollections of the bible – because just like CHRISTmas is obviously an interpretation… what else have we been led to believe, that was for the benefit of a religion (not spirituality)? We are counting on the people that translated it from its original language that they did not twist what was written as to how they understood it to be. If I say (in Spanish) to a friend “Que pasa, amigo?” - I want it to mean “What’s up, my friend?” when in actuality it means “what’s going, buddy?”  Something is lost in the translation – “nah, mean?“

And then you have the situation of the double entendre. If I write: “New study of obesity looks for larger test group”… of course you understand what I’m trying to say – but if you analyze it – or try to read more into it, you can see the double meaning. How am I assured that it can be translated how I wrote it or that the meaning of what I am trying to say is interpreted properly?

<sigh>

I guess the best I can do is pray and seek direction.

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All through my schooling – I was an excellent English and math student. I’m going to share a slight flaw I have – as long as you promise to keep amongst us – I suck at science.

To me, religion is science. There are variables, constants, and controlled/uncontrolled environments as to what can produce an answer – and even worse, the answer may or may not come out the same way twice. What's to say, my findings are not swayed by my own personal agenda, either? I mean I am a mother and I see my children's flaws through a mother's eyes. That is, afterall, my reality - right?

The more I uncover, the more aggravated I get because it shouldn’t be this hard. 2 + 2 = 4 for cripes sake! Can’t we just plug in some numbers (facts) and decipher an answer – without any spin, agenda or variables? 

SHEESH!

Well, at least the Yankees are still the greatest baseball team to ever play the game.

Google is the devil!

My thoughts are all over the place so please try to keep up as I try to sort this out.

Religion, politics and race are very touchy subjects. I am not trying to start a war of words or impose my will on anyone – but I think everyone at some point of their (life’s) journey, questions and evaluates where they are, if they’re on the right path and what is best for them. This is just my version of talking out loud… mostly because of the time of year it is, the political dysfunction that has incorporated religion as a battleground topic, and where I am personally with it all.

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I was born and raised a Catholic. Baptized, communed, confirmed. I didn’t really understand my religion but I was intrigued by Catholic beliefs like reincarnation and repenting my sins (how cool is it that all you have to do is confess to a priest – like God didn’t know you did it in the first place – and you were forgiven). As I got older, I started to understand what it meant to be Catholic and there were things within the religion that I couldn’t identify with. I began to explore my options.

I believe in God. Going to church doesn’t make me a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes me a car. Some of the most Christian-like people I know, are like me… they just do what is right, everyday – regardless to who is watching and without the direction of a Pastor who has an agenda. I try to live by the Golden Rule and the Ten Commandments. I’m not a “Holy-Roller”. I can have a conversation without citing passages from the bible or reading a devotional every day. Life should be balanced – I try not to do anything to the extreme – because “just enough” is a great place to be.

Spirituality (beyond religion) is a very private thing for me.  I pray every day. As a matter of fact I pray multiple times a day. When Ben was stationed in Afghanistan – I could say 5 “Our Father’s” and 2 “Hail Mary’s” in under 2 minutes. I didn’t ask for anything specific - because in my opinion, prayer is not asking for something – it’s praying that what will be, will be - what happens is God’s will. I say my prayers to let God know I trust in him and he knows what’s best.

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In the late 90’s – into the early ‘00’s… I was a software trainer for church software. I worked in the northeast, training churches on how to use their computers/software. It really opened my eyes to the “industry”.

I say “industry” because although there are MANY good people that work at the churches and minister their people – in 4 out of 10 cases – it’s a scam.  I’m not making that number up, either. Let me tell you why… If you show up for church on Sunday in a car that is in ill-repair, or if it’s nice, but you are behind a payment, or maybe you had to catch a ride, but your pastor pulls up in a brand new motor vehicle – you’re paying for him to drive that car. It’s a scam. I think some of the biggest hypocrites go to church with their fancy clothes (to impress others) knowing their own house is not in order and tithe their paychecks to a pastor that’s riding around in a Benz. Even if your church has ministries that cater to the masses (marriage ministry, teenage ministry, community outreach), this is just a way of keeping people involved in church. If there’s not stuff there to make you feel good and a part of the community – why bother, right? They promote that as fellowship.

True story: I went to a church to train the staff and pastor on their new church software. Before I could train them, they asked me if I could install the software because the pastor (who does all the IT stuff) would be running late. His computer was going to act as the server and all the other PC’s in the church would be workstations.  Let me tell you what I found… on the Pastor’s computer… in the browser’s cache, cookies and history folders. XXX websites… big booty girls, big tittie girls – you name it… there were about 100 different cookie files. But, that wasn’t it (like that wasn’t disturbing enough)!  The senior office administrator wanted to know if I could create a custom field to put each member’s annual salary so they could plan their budget based on the rule of tithing 10% of your income. She asked me before the Pastor pulled up in his brand new BMW sedan.

That wasn’t the only church I found questionable material at, either. Shit, you can read the newspapers to know that those that should be the most trusted and respected in prominent positions within the church (regardless of denomination) are groping our kids and having children out of wedlock. Not very Christian-like if you ask me. What Christian, in their right mind would mock or protest the funeral of a US Soldier… knowing that the Soldier sacrificed his (or her) life so their dumbass could voice their freedom of speech. And what about these churches that decide you can’t be a member if you’re gay or of a different race. Last time I checked – Jesus was a socialist. He loved everyone. He was into sharing and giving.

Yep, church is a big industry. Think of all these mega-churches that are popping up. I know the church I used to go to on Long Island only does service and ministries – they do not perform weddings or funerals. The church can hold up to 2,500 members at one service and the service is so moving – you walk out of there feeling like new money.  They have released some kick-ass CD’s – their band is awesome! The Bishop is a converted Catholic and when Pastor Sam comes out – reach for your wallet… he’ll send the pot around at least 2 or 3 times a service. The entire pastoral staff drives brand new cars.

I’m not advocating that anyone become an atheist – but I do think that it’s OK to question where your $20, $50 or $100 is going every week. Personally, I’d rather give my 10% to a food bank or woman’s shelter – that’s where God’s work is really being done. Taking care of your neighbors is where you’ll reap the most rewards. God pays you back 10 times over (in blessings) when you help his children. I don’t need a church to decide how to spend my money.

Where you’ll really find Jesus is in jails and drug rehabs. Jesus has put many on the right path – because at some of the lowest points of your life is when you need to focus on something other than what’s causing you grief at that moment and the bible (as a whole) has a determined message that if you live righteously and do right by people, life is rewarding. I think some people need church; kind of like reinforcement of their commitment to the word.

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So, now I’m at a crossroads (again). I never paid attention before and have always trusted what I’ve been taught – that we celebrate Jesus’ birthday on Christmas. Come to find out – Jesus wasn’t born on Christmas. Christmas is a Pagan holiday and based on some of the things I believe in – I even have Pagan tendencies. Many cultures have a blend of Christian and Pagan beliefs within their Christian Religions. Irish Catholicism, Mexican, Italian and South American Catholicism all have incorporated many Pagan beliefs and customs into their Christian faith. So, this is probably why I am in such mental disarray right now.

I have to say – my life was quite happy when I thought Jesus was born on Christmas Day and Santa came down the chimney. I think I’ve concluded: Google is the devil! How dare they search through all this information on the internet - that would otherwise take me years of research!

 

S/N: I don't really think Google is the devil - I just think that the powers that be want you to follow along and not question anything - because that's what good "Christians" do.

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I invite you to read this BLOG. It really made me reflect on my commitment to being a good person. I have friends in all shapes, sizes and colors and try every day to be a more tolerant person – because even though I’m a Christian (with Pagan tendencies), I always aspire to do what’s right.

When in Rome...

We’ve lived and visited a lot of places. The great thing about that is trying food that an area may be famous for.

I’ve expanded my palette to include many different cooking styles and cultural dishes. Some I like more than others. I’m still very true to my New York dishes like Baked Ziti and Italian sausage with peppers & onions – but I like the taste of cole slaw (‘slaw) on a pulled pork BBQ sandwich (NC) and chicken fajitas (TX). I still don’t put mustard on my burgers and I can’t even look at gravy and biscuits (the white gravy that looks like vomit)… I’ve tried… I can’t do it.

Since Aboy is back from New York, I have to get back on my cooking game. I can eat a sandwich for dinner, a bowl of cereal or even some salsa and chips – I’m fast, cheap and easy (probably the reason Aboy married me)… 

Aboy wants a meal. He don’t fuck around when it comes to food.

Last night I made Cheater Chicken Fajitas. It’s one of our favorites.

What you’ll need:

1 lb of boneless chicken breast – cut in slivers or chunks (whatever you prefer)
Green Peppers
Red Peppers
Yellow Peppers
Orange Peppers
1 Onion
1 Zucchini
1 Cup - Mushrooms
Adobo (or Fajita Seasoning) – to taste
(2) ¼ Cup of Worstershire Sauce (if you make the chicken separate from the veggies)
Olive Oil
1 pack of Flour Tortillas
1 lime
Salsa Verde - Green Mexican Salsa

**I use 2 peppers per person – I like to make it colorful, so for 4 of us – I might use 5 green peppers and 1 each of the Red, Yellow & Orange. I’ve also added in some hot peppers – or whatever might be in season.

I also like to cook the meat separate from the veggies – because sometimes I like to put the veggies over some white rice (with the juice they cook in) if I’m not in the mood for a lot of meat.

So, in a large pot (that can be covered) I put in:

2 TBSP of Olive Oil

Sliced – peppers, onions and zucchini

1 cup of sliced mushrooms

¼ cup of Worstershire Sauce

Adobo to taste (usually a couple shakes)

½ of a Lime – squeezed over the veggies (about ½ way through cooking)

I cook over a medium heat – covered, until the veggies are soft (not mushy). Stir frequently to distribute the olive oil and worstershire over the veggies.

While that is cooking, I use a deep frying pan or wok and stir fry the chicken

2 TBSP of Olive Oil

¼ cup of Worstershire sauce

Sliced Chicken – seasoned with Adobo or Salt & Pepper

½ of a Lime – squeezed over the chicken (about ½ way through cooking)

I cook over a medium heat – until it’s cooked thoroughly – but I keep an eye on it to make sure the meat is not dried out.

To serve:

We warm up the tortillas on a flat frying pan (or cheat and nuke it for 20 seconds)

Lay out the tortilla on a plate

Spoon on some Chicken & Veggies

Put some Salsa Verde over it (about a TSP)

Roll it up and eat J

OR

Serve over some rice or couscous

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This was originally a recipe I put together while I was dieting (less the chicken and tortillas). The worstershire sauce is the “cheating” part of it –because it has some zing to it, has ZERO calories and works into the flavors of the peppers, onions, zucchini and mushrooms, nicely. This also makes a great left-over lunch for the day after!

What happens in Vegas…

Usually stays in Vegas, right?  Yeah, yeah… I’ll keep it a secret – but what happened on the way to and from Vegas, doesn’t count!

Aboy had to pick up some seats from 2 customers in Vegas.  Between Aboy being in New York from October until mid December and I left for Utah a day and a half after he arrived in Texas….then Aboy left for Florida while I was in Utah… some quality time with my husband was in order.

We used his Vegas trip as a busman’s holiday and I took the ride. It’s a little over 18 hours one way to drive and you remember from my Trucker in Training adventures – Aboy is limited to being on duty for 14 hours in a 24 hour period, with 11 hours of driving – so, about 2 days there – and 2 days back. Being cooped up with him in the cab of a tractor trailer for 4 days… now that’s quality time! Add in the fact that data connection service on my cell phone through long stretches of New Mexico and Arizona was non-existent (no Facebook), I actually had to talk to him.

I’m joking, of course. Aboy and I are great friends. He’s a closet comic too and always says or does shit that makes me laugh.

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Aboy started driving a truck over-the-road in 2005. His first “real” trip was a cross-country trip from Long Island to Las Vegas. Since that time, he’s wanted me to take a ride with him across I-40 to experience nature’s natural beauty and mystique. I have to tell you, he wasn’t kidding.

Don’t get me wrong – there are some very long stretches of NOTHING (I mean NOTHING!!) but, then you’ll come up on some mountains and valleys and there is so much going on, you don’t know where to look first or what is more impressive.

For some of you, mountains and shit might not be impressive – but I grew up on (flat) Long Island… the biggest mountain adventure I’ve ever been on was – while driving the cab, taking a passenger to the VA hospital in Northport and navigating the (mole) hills on the North shore. Then, I’d get to use the parking brake because I didn’t want the cab to roll away on the (slight) incline when I had to run inside to get the medical voucher stamped.  Northport ain’t got shit on New Mexico & Arizona!

Then there was the snow in Arizona!  YES - SNOW!!  The elevation of Flagstaff, Arizona is around 6,910 feet… We spent the night at a truck stop in Moriarty, New Mexico. In the morning when we went inside to get our coffee, the cashier asked us which way we were headed. Aboy (with conviction) announced “VEGAS!” So she says, “Well, I guess I should warn ya’ll – there is a big storm headed this way and they’re probably going to shut down I-40.” Have you ever been in a “romantic” mood – then someone busts in on you and the “feeling” is gone… yep, there went the Vegas hard-on. 

So, I could see Aboy doing a mental inventory (kind of like smoke emerging from his ears) of what his plan of attack was going to be if we ran into this blizzard. He keeps boots and stuff like that on the truck – but, I’m a passenger and my job is to look cute in the passenger seat. I’ve got some soccer slides and a hoody… not exactly Winter Weather Advisory attire. Aboy is an experienced driver though and he assures me that he’s driven through poor road conditions (through the mountains) on many occasions and I will be fine… then he adds in “but, I usually have a loaded truck and tire chains – that could be a problem”. I do the mental scream “THIS IS JUST FUCKIN’ GREAT!” and think of all the worst scenarios that are going to happen like sliding off the road, ending up in a ditch, walking through 4 feet of snow with a hoody, flip flops and socks… need I go on?...

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So, we get on the road. We’re in Mountain time – and our internal clock has us on Eastern time… it’s still dark out. We drove for a couple hours before the sun started coming up and I wasn’t able to get a look at the scenery for a while.

Shortly after we passed through Albuquerque (BTW, it was 29 degrees there!), the sun came up. The mountains and landscape are just gorgeous! Have you ever seen something and said “that would make a great puzzle”?  Yeah… like that! I took some pictures but my camera did it no justice.

I have to say – there are a lot of common parts in New Mexico – there are shanty-town developments that probably never heard of the Tea Party or Occupy Wall Street movements or the ongoing cholesterol problem in the nation – because they are just worried about what they’re going to eat today – it looks that poor. I think that’s part of the beauty of New Mexico though - because to them, life is very basic. Then there are the parts where it is over developed and crowded. In either situation – no one has to worry about cutting their grass – because there is none.

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As we’re driving along – we came across miles of mountains. Aboy began the ascent into the mountains and while we were in the mountains I asked him “What is the name of these mountains?”…

Remember I told you Aboy grew up in Central Islip’s Carleton Park? Not that it had a total impact with his educational experience – but going to school for Aboy meant drinking a pint of wine before he got to school in the morning and playing basketball (while he should have been in class) were a part of his curriculum. He was also the class clown, so teachers let him slide with a lot of stuff because he could usually joke his way out of trouble... except for that one time – after he told the teacher his name was Joe “muthafuckin” Braxton – then the teacher said “OK Mr. Braxton – come to the office". I've said timing is a flaw – yeah, it started young.  

So, Aboy’s in depth knowledge of geography could have been covered on one of those days when he was improving his cross-over or jump shot because when I asked him “What is the name of these mountains?” without taking a breath or any hesitation (and with conviction) he said "The HIMALAYAS!". It took a second to sink in (because he said it so convincingly) - then I just looked at him and rolled my eyes and we both bust out laughing.

Of course, we were in one of those long stretches of no data connection – so I’ll never know the name of those mountains. <sigh>

(to be continued…)

Flashback: Taxi Tales (My cab family)

I drove a cab on and off for 19 years. I saw a lot of faces come and go. We recently had a “Tommy’s Taxi Reunion”. The core group of us gathered at Tommy’s house and told stories about some of the greatest times (and memories) in our lives. It was great to see my cab family – we’ve all gotten a little older, but none of us have changed – at all.

While we were eating and revisiting the past, I asked Betty, “Did you post a ‘Help Wanted’ sign at Pilgrim?” Everyone bust out laughing.

For those of you that don’t know, Pilgrim is a State Hospital for the mentally unstable (it houses crazy people). I honestly felt like, when people were released from Pilgrim, they took a cab to Tommy’s, filled out an application and Betty hired them – on the spot. I’ll get into some of those stories as we get more into my Taxi Tales, and this is why I say – “I can’t make this stuff up!”

Me & Betty - July 16, 2011:

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So, let me introduce you to some of my cab family:

Tommy #25: The owner. It was a family business and everyone in Bay Shore knew Tommy. Tommy slept all day because he would sit in his Lincoln and listen to the dispatch radio (in his driveway) all night with a bottle of Korbel. He ran the business from the comfort of his Jacuzzi. He is a blood relative – I’m still not sure of the blood line and if I exchanged 250 words with him in the 19 years that I worked there – that was a lot.  I respected him – but in my mind, if it wasn’t for Betty – the place would fall apart.
*Tommy passed away, June 30^th, 2011.

Betty #96: The HBIC (Head Bitch in Charge)… or how I like to say; my Mother, my mentor, the woman I aspire to be like. Betty was Tommy’s girlfriend and had the (dis)pleasure of executing Tommy’s orders. She understood the business from the ground up (she started as a driver), handled all of the front end stuff (hiring/firing/scheduling) and also dispatched the cabs. Betty has the qualities that I am still trying to acquire: patience, understanding, and tact. As I tell my stories – it will become clear, how she set the stage for success and everyone understood their role in “the family”.

Jack #9: Night Dispatcher. Let me paint the picture for you. It’s 9pm… all the day drivers have “booked out” (left for the day) – Jack has the desk light lit and the little 13 inch TV on – tuned to the “ponies” (Jack was a big gambler) and all the other lights in the office are turned off. There’s cigar smoke throughout the entire office – even the foyer, where the customer’s come in and wait for their cab. He’s got a deep gruff voice and a no-nonsense demeanor (Jack took BLUNT to a new level). He knew his shit, he knew Long Island (specifically the tri-town area - Bay Shore, Brentwood & Central Islip) like the back of his hand (for the lack of a better cliché). Jack didn’t fuck around. His voice was actually kind of scary coming across the radio. He knew how long it took for you to get from the mall to the rail (so you couldn’t steal) and he knew every drunk in Bay Shore. He was also like a father to me. He never sent me on any questionable calls – and the drunks that I did have to pick up, he could intimidate them with the sound of his voice, over the radio.
*Jack passed away a few years ago. He had retired in North Carolina.

Jerry #41: Betty’s right hand. I loved working with Jerry. He was a southern transplant. Jerry was quick witted and thoughtful. He talked bunko shit but was one of the nicest men you could meet. He hated dispatching but he did it (because Betty needed him to). He had loyal customers that would request him to pick them up and Jerry was actually one of the drivers that convinced me to drive a cab. Jerry hated “the boat people” (the Manhattanites that came out for the ferry). They would jump in his car off the train and yell “I’M TRYING TO MAKE THE FERRY TO OCEAN BEACH!”… and Jerry would tell them “I don’t give a fuck about a fucking ferry”…. And drive just under the speed limit the whole way down Maple Ave. He was a southern gentleman with a New York attitude – go figure. Jerry was like my drunk uncle that everyone loved.

*Jerry passed away about 10 years ago. I still think about him (and his stories), all the time!

Kathy #16: The other female. I only say that because Kathy, like Jerry was a fixture at Tommy’s. She worked everyday, she had a following of customers (that would request her) and was very dependable. She was also one of the drivers that convinced me to drive a cab. In our core group – Kathy was the other female – in the male dominated industry of driving a cab. She was strong-willed, but no match for Betty. She knew the business – just as good as anyone, but was destined to be a driver. She used to butt heads with Betty from time to time – but understood, Betty was the boss and any complaining to Tommy – her cab life would be miserable. Kathy understood her role and didn’t cross Betty. Kathy was like my older step-sister, she kinda had my best interest at heart, but when it came down to it – she was out for herself.

Jeff & Ronnie: The mechanics. Jeff & Ronnie are going to have a few blog posts dedicated in their behalf. Ronnie was the older, sinister, “I don’t get mad, I get even” of the 2. Jeff is Betty’s son. He was Ronnie’s protégé. Let’s just say practical jokes and pranks were just as much a part of their daily duties as changing oil and tires. You really aren’t going to believe some of the shit they pulled. Just hold that thought….

This was the group that I started with. As I move through the years, we picked up some people and lost some people but this was my family. They watched me grow up. They watched my kids grow up. They saw the good and the bad. They laughed with me, they supported me and they appreciated me. They didn’t expect me to be someone I wasn’t and as dysfunctional as our group was – Betty held us together and appreciated all of us – faults and all.

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I know many of you think my Taxi Tales are going to be about the crazy people that I picked up in the cab and the different things I saw as a cab driver. Kinda, not really. My Taxi Tales are going to mostly be about my life at the cab, the crazy people that I worked with and the reality of working in an industry that you are dealing with some of the highs and lows of human existence and it is something different, everyday.

Yeah, we had some crazy/stupid/asshole customers – but the drivers… they are the true characters for a good Taxi Tale.