Pete Greene

Words that need to retire

petegreene — Fri, 19 Oct 2012 20:13:40 GMT

Let's start with some acronyms...

Yolo = the heck does this even mean? Sick of seeing it all over facebook. Yeah I have facebook- blame my sons.
PC = To me if you need to try to make something 'pc', that means you're being prejudiced. Just treat people like people.
ASAP= especially when people pronounce it 'A sap'. Like my boss.

Then there's:

Like, you know? = No, I don't know. And like doesn't belong, like, in random points in your sentence.
Downsize = You're firing people. You're not 'downsizing the department'.
At this juncture = Try... now.
Bromance = When did hanging out with your buddies become something ladies coo about and try to sexualize?
Metrosexual = You're a guy who grooms too much.

But most of all...

Going Postal = C'mon, it gives us mail carriers a bad name.

Our Last Supper

petegreene — Sun, 15 Jul 2012 22:06:00 GMT

Tatja talking about her late husband

He asked me to pass the salt. A simple gesture, our hands crossing the table as they had in so many years of marriage. Comfortable, repetitive.

He had survived the cancer so far. Frail yes, but there was hope- he was in remission, the last of treatments. He shaked the salt onto his steak, little crystals standing out like snow on the gray backdrop of meat.

"I think tomorrow I will walk in the woods," he said, and I smiled. It is good, I thought, that he feels well enough to walk.

We chewed our steak in comfortable silence - this too from years of marriage, no need to fill those moments where we took pleasure in just being together.

He asked for dessert, but I had made none, so he said he would go to lie down a while.

Had I known he would not wake up from that lying down, I would have given him fruit. Cake. Cookies. A multitude of last sweet things.

But our last supper ended there, him wiping his mouth and smiling before standing from the table to head in to our bedroom. Me, smiling back as I gathered the dishes.

I should have said "I love you". I should have gone in to lie with him, when I heard his heavy sigh and the squeak of the mattress.

Should have held his hand as he slipped from this life into the next. But he alone lay there, as I washed each plate and cup. Dried them, stacked them away in the cabinets, unknowing.

Did he say any last words? Did he call for me, and the water overrode the sound? Or did he simply sleep, belly full of steak and heart full of hope at the thought of tomorrow's walk? Perhaps his body gave out while his mind dreamed.

This is what I hope for him. All we can any of us hope for, to slip peacefully from one world to the next, never knowing we have passed between.

Interview meme

petegreene — Wed, 20 Jun 2012 19:22:54 GMT

1. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Raising two great boys. They're amazing kids -- well, adults now, but they'll still always be my boys. I'm really proud of that.

2. What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Nothing's ever perfect, so I think to be happy you have to let go of that idea. But pretty much as good as it gets is spending a relaxing weekend, hanging out with my boys or my friends or Tatja. Not worrying about anything, just being in the moment.

3. What is your current state of mind?
Well, I've got say I'm feeling pretty optimistic. The boys are doing well. Work's work. I'm pursuing hobbies. I've got this... thing going on with Tatja. Yeah, I'm optimistic. Things are good.

4. What is your favorite occupation?
Well when I was a kid, I would've said astronaut here. But I've worked for the US postal service for over 20 years now, so I'm gonna go with that.

5. What is your most treasured possession?
I got a few, so it's hard to pick one here. I guess if we're going with the most sentimental value, it's my dad's baseball glove. He was a real good player. Me-- not so much. But we played some good games, me, him, and my brothers. Then I used it when I played with my kids. So there's a lot of memories in that glove.

6. What or who is the greatest love of your life?
My boys. They mean the world to me. Though well... if you mean romantically... I've got this thing going on with Tatja that I'm hoping turns into something like love. I mean... I'm not saying we're going to have whirlwind romance like in those chick novels or anything. But hey, at our age, love as a steady dependable thing can be a lot better.

7. What is your favorite journey?
When I was just out of high school me and my friends took a summer road trip. We were going to go all the way to California, but Jimmy's chevy broke down so we only got about halfway. Still we had a hell of a lot of fun.

8. What is your most marked characteristic?
I'm a nice guy. Sometimes too nice, I guess because I wind up helping to move a lot of furniture and getting friends out of scrapes, and taking on extra work at work. But what can you do? You got to be a good friend.

9. When and where were you the happiest?
I think I'm at my happiest now, to be honest. All that hormonal crap of youth is over. I didn't think I'd be happy after my boys left for collage because I was feeling kind of ~~empty~~ bored with all that free time, but now that I'm taking all these classes I'm having the time of my life. I'm learning all kinds of new things. Meeting great people. It's a good time

10. What is it that you most dislike?
Well. I know we got to change with the times and all that, but I kinda dislike how the post office is going downhill in this age of instant emails. Nobody's sending letters anymore, and even postcards from tourists are less than they used to be. They're closing offices down and letting good folks go because they don't have the work for them and they're in real financial trouble. It's sad.

11. What is your greatest fear?
I guess I'm kind of afraid the boys won't come home one weekend, and one weekend will turn into two, and three, and-- next thing you know we'll be that kind of family who calls on holidays and doesn't ever see each other anymore.

12. What is your greatest extravagance?
All these classes. A lot of them are low cost or even free in some cases, but then you got the supplies for them and all the time you spend practicing and making things and studying. But it's a good extravagance.

13. Which living person do you most despise?
Well I ain't real fond of Mitt Romney and I hope he doesn't get elected our next president, if you know what I mean. But despise is a strong word. Eh. I'll go with him though.

14. What is your greatest regret?
That I didn't end my marriage sooner. We kind of tried to keep things together longer than we should have, especially since she was clearly really unhappy. And a lot of that put unnecessary strain on the kids, and us too. It was just hard to let twelve years go.

15. Which talent would you most like to have?
I'd like to be one of those guys who seems to pick something up really easily. For all that I'm learning a whole lot of new things, it involves a lot of studying and hard work. Some guys just seem to be like oh I've never tried this before -- and now I'm a master six weeks later.

16. Where would you like to live?
I like where I live. It's a quiet little beach town, at least in the off season. It gets a little crazy come tourist time.

17. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
When my back's flaring up and I can't get around so well. The chiropractor helps keep it in line as long as I don't overdo things, but sometimes it still seizes up. I feel like an old man.

18. What is the quality you most like in a man?
A good sense of humor. A lot of my friends are my friends because they don't take themselves or life too seriously. Don't get me wrong, they're not going to laugh at a funeral or anything - but they're fun to be around and they keep a positive, upbeat sort of attitude even when life gets rough.

19. What is the quality you most like in a woman?
I like a woman who isn't afraid to be herself. One that doesn't need to wear the latest trends and gunk herself up with makeup and all that. ~~A woman like Tatja~~. I admire the courage it takes to go your own way - women can be kinda mean to each other when it comes to that sort of thing.

20. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
I don't like that it's sometimes hard for me to take a big step. I have my comfortable job and my comfortable house and all that. Everyone knows me here. It was hard to walk into take classes the first time, in a place were everyone wouldn't know me as Pete the Mailman. It's hard for me to take the next step with Tatja, too.

21. What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Cruelty. Some people can just be downright nasty, for no reason other than to hurt people or to further their own agenda. That's just crap to go through life being like that. There's no call for it.

22. What do you most value in your friends?
I like that they're always there when you need them. They're really dependable. We've been friends a long time, me and most of them. Like my friends I met at work - Randy Brown and Jack Goldberg. They call us 'The Colored Boys' (though we're not boys anymore, and two of us are white and it's not pc but yeah, it's stuck. Because get it-- I'm a Greene--).

23. Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
Ah, I'm gonna take a literature course one of these days. But I guess I'll go with Don Quixote from what I remember from college. Tilting at windmills and all that, but you know he had some heart. He was doing what he loved to do and being the big hero, if only in his own head. I really should read more though.

24. Whose are your heroes in real life?
Well my dad and my grandpa were heroes to me. My grandpa fought in the second world war when he was a young guy- that takes real guts. And he was a hard working man. My dad too, with the hard working. He always had time for his family though. He helped put us through college, even though he hadn't finished himself. He valued education. They're gone now but I still consider them my heroes.

25. Which living person do you most admire?
I'm going to go with Obama here. There's a guy that's got real charisma. And being our first black president and all, that's something. And I think he's doing a hell of a job with the mess he got left with from Bush. If congress wouldn't cockblock him on so may issues, he'd do even more. But he's trying. And that says something.

26. What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Uh, I don't know if it's a virtue really but there's that whole thing our culture has about how being skinny or built in a guy's case is so in, but then there's all this good food out there and all this junk food and yet you're supposed to not get fat. I've got a pretty average body-- bit of a paunch now that I'm getting older, ad I'm okay with that. And I like ladies with curves.

27. On what occasions do you lie?
On occasions where telling the truth would be more trouble than it's worth. Just little white lies- I try not to tell any big whoppers. But if you're late getting back to work from your lunch break, say - it's better to tell your boss that you got stuck in summer traffic then that you and Randy were playing Angry Birds on his new smartphone (That damn game is addictive!) and lost track of time.

28. Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
'You know' seems to slip its way into my speech more than it should. So does 'Ah' or 'uh' when I can't think of what to say next. But what can you do? Ah, there's another one.

29. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
My back would stop being so damn irritating and function again like it did when I was a young guy. And all those little aches and pains would be gone, too.

30. What are your favorite names?
Joshua, James, Tatja - what, I'm biased.

31. How would you like to die?
I want to go in my sleep, preferably while having some really nice dream. Just not wake up from it. When I'm old, provided I still have all my functions. I don't want to be shitting myself and drooling and unable to remember my name - I'd rather die before that point.

32. If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?
A dog. Ol' Archie's got it pretty good. People feed him, provide him with shelter and toys he doesn't have to work for, pet him and talk to him and praise him. And he can crap and pee wherever he wants to-- and we've got to pick up the end result. Pretty easy life.

33. What is your motto?
Be good to folks, and they'll usually be good to you in return.

A Picture Together

petegreene — Sat, 09 Jun 2012 23:19:05 GMT

There's a picture of Pete and Tatja together. Sitting in their folk art class, sharing a paint pot. It's a shade Tatja told him was teal. They've got aprons on. Hers is frilly (it smelled like baked goods); his reads Kiss the Chef (she didn't). They're both smiling, their shoulders in comfortable proximity.

"You folks look good," the art teacher said when she snapped it. Tatja'd blushed, Pete'd stammered a thank you. She emailed it to them.

Pete printed, framed, and hung it.

When visiting Tatja's house, he discovers she's done the same.

That's when he knows she likes him too.

Father's Day 2012

petegreene — Thu, 07 Jun 2012 19:38:30 GMT

Pete's boys are home for the weekend, but this time they haven't brought their laundry.

They've got a big box between them - heavy from the way they're carrying it. Archie barks and lets Pete know they're coming up the drive in time for him to open the door. He's a bit bemused as they set it down on the deck with a look of triumph. "What's in that?" he asks, one brow arching.

"It's your gift, dad." Josh says, his eyes bright.

"Happy Father's Day!" James says, beaming.

"Aw boys. You didn't have to bring me anything. I thought we were just going to grab some burgers. Wasn't that the plan?" He knows his boys are college students, just doing some summer work now that the semester's out. They don't have a lot of money. In fact, Pete was going to pick up the check on their burger dinner.

"Sure we're gonna have burgers, dad." Josh smiles. "But you got to open it up first."

Pete's grinning now. He ducks back in to get his X-acto knife to score the tape that's holding the cardboard together. Archie slips out, tail wagging, happy as Pete is to see the boys home.

"Hey Archie. Hey fella." James and Josh pet and play with their old spaniel while Pete sets to work on the box.

Packing peanuts leak out when he opens it up, snowing artificial pink all over the deck. But Pete only has eyes for what's inside. "Aw-- aw really? You got this for me? You shouldn't have--"

It's a new gas grill. All shiny and ready to be assembled.

"Propane's in the car," James says. "And we've got burgers too- in a cooler."

Pete turns away so the boys don't see him tearing up. He's needed a new grill for a while-- the old one has a valve that's hard to turn, and rust on the grill plates. It's temperamental as hell. Every year he threatens to replace it, and never quite gets around to it. But now the boys have. His boys.

"Don't you like it, Dad?" Josh asks, uncertain.

"I love it," Pete manages, through the lump in his throat. "I love you. Love you both. C'mere."

The boys head over and he pulls them into an embrace. Any other day of the year, it might've been awkward-- lots of we're-too-manly and we're-grown-up. But it's Father's Day, and they allow it. Hug him back, while Archie wags his tail and circles them, adding his doggie love to the equation.

"I've got the best sons," Pete says. "And I'm going to make you both some amazing burgers."

Phone call

petegreene — Thu, 17 May 2012 19:17:20 GMT

"Hello?"

"Hey Dad! How's it going?"

"Hey Josh-- eh, it's going, it's going. How bout you? How's college?"

"Pretty good! Busy though. Finals coming up and all. Professor Adams is sneaking in a last minute paper. I hate when they do that. You think you're done working for the semester, then BAM."

"Hah.. Yeah, I remember that. There was always one bastard had to get his last oomph in."

"Yeah. So... I got a lot going on..."

"... yeah. It sounds like..."

"I mean... it'd probably be best if I stayed on campus this weekend."

"Oh. This weekend? But the game---"

"But you've got season tickets. We can go another time. If I didn't have finals---"

"...is it a girl?"

"Dad!"

"What? You've never been that keen on studying before."

"I am studying..."

"Uh-hmn."

"...okay I've got a study date. But it's for finals!"

"Hah! I knew it. Alright, you have fun then. And be sure to get some actual studying done."

"---I will. I mean. She's a nice girl. We won't be-- I mean, there'll be studying going on. Lots of studying."

"Just don't do anything your old man wouldn't do."

"Daddd-"

"Hah. Just be good, alright? And if you can't be good, be careful."

"I will, I will ...look, anyhow... I'm sorry I won't make the game."

"Yeah... me too. But it's alright. There'll be other games. Girls and finals are much more important than hanging out with your old man. I was young once too, remember. Just do me a favor..."

"Sure Dad, what's that?"

"Ace those finals."

"You got it! Love you."

"Love you too, son."

Lateness.

petegreene — Mon, 14 May 2012 06:09:39 GMT

I pride myself with being on time, but there have been some occasions I've had to tell a little white lie about not getting it done.

1. Stuck in traffic.
This only really works during the tourist season, as the rest of the year our tiny island community has no traffic to speak of. But during the season it's a great all purpose lateness excuse.

2. Had to work extra hours and didn't have time to finish.
This is an excuse I used for not having a project done for one of my classes. The truth was I was a little intimidated getting started. The teacher was nice enough to give me some extra time and I buckled down and got it done.

3. Eight o'clock? I thought you said nine. Sorry bud.
Said to my buddy Andy when I was supposed to meet him for beers and watching the game down at the pub. I'd been talking to Tatja on the phone and lost track of time. I would've told him that, but then he'd be all oooh and ahhh and what did you talk about? Yeah.

4. My alarm clock didn't go off. Must need a new one.
Really, I forgot to set it. I can count the times on one hand I've been super late to work in my twenty some years of working at the post office, but yeah, this happened.

5. I couldn't find the address.
Does not work in town- I know the entire town like the back of the hand from my mail route. But works when you're going to meet someone somewhere and you were screwing around and lost track of the time and left too late to get there promptly.

Come Rain, Shine, or Canine

petegreene — Sat, 21 Apr 2012 01:31:09 GMT

Pete trudged through the snow, sludged through the mud and rain. He didn't mind the occasional bit of inclement weather that hindered him along his route. What bothered him more than any of that were the dogs. Some dogs were great-- labs and shepherds came running up, tails wagging. Big dogs were no problem.

But there was nothing quite like having to deliver a certified letter to Mrs. Kellerman while her four pound teacup chihuahua tried to chew his ankle off.

"Don't mind my ChiChi, she's a little feisty!"

Give Pete a bout of rain over tiny dogs any day.

Collage thing

petegreene — Fri, 13 Apr 2012 02:26:11 GMT

One of the classes I'm taking is a computer class, and they were showing us some of the things you can do on the internet - including uploading photos of yourself and making these collage type things. Our teacher suggested for the assignment that we use some photos that illustrate important things in our lives, and play around with the effects and all. Well, I don't know how well I did with the graphics stuff- it's still a bit beyond me. But these are some things that are important to me. Ah, not necessarily in the order they're located -- like my boys aren't any less important than my job, and sports doesn't come before friends. It's just where I thought the pictures looked best.

Flow

petegreene — Tue, 03 Apr 2012 02:16:26 GMT

Deep in the pines, the iced tea colored river flowed and ebbed with the seasons. The unique coloration came from bog ore that lined the bottom, and released a bacteria into the water. In past centuries, men trolled the ore and smelted it in furnaces that made fireplace backs and canon balls. Ruins of the old iron furnaces could still be found among the trees; here a brick, there a rusted metal skeleton.

Tatja's property included three-fourths of an acre that was buildable land - there her house sat, and the brick outbuilding that had been Alexi's workshop. The property itself went three acres deep - most of that zoned for preservation by the Pinelands Commission. Dirt trails--some mostly overgrown, but many intact enough to traverse-- lead to the riverbank.

In a small clearing there, Alexi had built a picnic table out of old planks and fallen trees. Though he'd originally stained it, the elements had long since weathered it gray and bowed the benches. Tatja once thought it looked as if Bolotnyi* rose up from the swampy marsh around the river and sat there whenever her and Alexi weren't present.

Spring usually meant a rise in the river, the groundwater from all the melting snow turning the sluggish winter flow more lively. This year though, winter had been mild. This year Tatja sat alone in the bow of her bench, straining to see the river over the cattail reeds. A little brown trickle struggling through muddy banks made her wonder if the river too, would die. If it would leave the trees as lonely as Alexi had left her.

* Russian, a 'swamp spirit'

Laundry Day

petegreene — Sun, 01 Apr 2012 02:47:01 GMT

It was with some consternation that Pete discovered the lack of clean clothes after his shower. He'd meant to do laundry earlier in the week, but he'd had a full week. In what spare time he'd had after work, he'd been working on a painting for his landscape class. It wasn't any great masterpiece, but Pete wanted to capture the beauty of the ocean at 35th Street Beach, where the long jetty plunged a rocky path out into the surf.

He wanted to give the painting to his oldest son as an apartment-warming gift. Josh was moving out of the dorms and into a proper apartment. Only James would be coming home this summer when classes ended - and only if he didn't go off renting a summer place in Wildwood with half a dozen friends as he'd done the previous year. He wondered how so many boys managed to live together in a sort of brotherhood, or at least without killing each other. Lord knows he couldn't have lived with his buddies at that age.

Pete finished drying himself off, then wrapped the towel around his waist. He passed the painting, near completed now- he'd get back to work on it after laundry. For now, he gave the seascape such a look for being the cause of his lack of clean clothing. Well, he'd worry about laundry after grabbing something to eat. A near naked breakfast, but it wasn't like there was anyone to complain. Archie thrummed his tail happily as Pete walked past him on the way to the kitchen. He stopped and petted his dog's furry head. "You don't mind, do you boy? I don't suppose you do-- you're naked all the time, after all. Twenty four seven, letting it all hang out."

Not that Archie had anything to 'hang out' these days. He'd been neutered when he was just a puppy, some six years ago now. Even the dog was getting old, Pete mused as he headed into the kitchen to fry up some egg beaters and turkey bacon. Tatja had told him recently about how they were lower in cholesterol - and Pete had supposed he'd better do something for the old ticker before it gave out like his old man's had. They actually tasted pretty good, too. Wasn't like he missed the yolks, and turkey tasted just as good as pork.

Archie begged for a strip of bacon, and Pete set one aside to cool enough for the dog to eat. "Alright, but you have to promise me something first--"

Archie tilted his head.

"Promise me boy-- your old Daddy making breakfast in his all together is on a need to know basis--"

The spaniel woofed as if he understood, which made Pete smile. He fed Archie the strip of bacon.

"And no one needs to know about this but you and me."

Archie wagged his tail.

Family Time

petegreene — Sun, 25 Mar 2012 02:14:11 GMT

"Stay by my side," Pete cautioned his boys as they got out of the Chevy. At 11 and 9, they were too old for such things as holding hands while crossing the mall parking lot. Josh rolled his eyes, and James followed suit. Still, they stuck close to their dad as the trio headed for the entrance. Storm clouds hung overhead, and Pete hoped they wouldn't get caught in the rain on their way back out later.

"I want to be a pirate this year," James announced.

Pete chuckled and ruffled his hair. "You know what a pirate's favorite subject is in school?"

"Pirates don't go to school," Josh said, with another eye-roll. But James didn't join him this time. He tried to puzzle it out as they walked in. Seaside Vista Mall was teaming with shoppers, many of them heading in the same direction Pete and his sons were - the party supply store which turned into a costume shop every fall.

"What Dad?" James asked. "What's his favorite subject?"

"Arrrrrrrithmatic," Pete said, in his best pirate voice.

Even Josh laughed. "That's so bad," he said, but all three were smiling as they headed into the store.

Half an hour later, James had his costume picked out - complete with with plastic sword and a stuffed parrot to sit on his shoulder. Josh still couldn't make up his mind.

"How about Batman?" his father said, trying hard to be patient.

"No, everyone's Batman."

"I'm not Batman!" James said, waving the plastic sword at his brother.

"Shut up, goober."

"Hey, no name calling," Pete cautioned. That earned him another eye roll, and he began to wonder if Josh was hitting puberty already. Pete and his own brothers had certainly done their fair share of rolling the eyes, shrugging, and the infamous what-ever during their teen years. But eleven seemed kind of young to start on this already.

"You could be a unicorn!" James said, giggling as he held up a girly pink costume with fluffy fur. "Neigggggh."

Josh pushed past his brother and for the exit, scowling. "Halloween's for babies anyway. I don't want a stupid costume."

"Hey-- hey get back here," Pete called, not wanting them to get separated. He grabbed Josh by the parrot-holding hand and tugged him along as far as they could get without actually leaving the store with unpaid items. Mercifully, Josh stopped by the exit. Pete considered his options here. He could see the register from the door, and the line was long.

"Jamie, go stand in line will you? Hold our place-- I need to talk to Josh."

James eyed his dad and brother. "Are you going to yell at him?" he asked, halfway between reproachful and hopeful.

"We're going to have a talk, that's all. Hey, after this we'll get some ice cream, alright? Just wait in line so we can get your stuff paid for and get out here."

"Okay, but I want a sundae," James said, because if he was going to miss his brother getting in trouble to stand in a boring line, it was going to be worth his while. He took off for the back of the line, and Pete watched to make sure he wasn't going to poke the people in front of him with the plastic pirate sword. But other than a few practice 'arrrs', he seemed alright.

Josh leaned up against the door frame, scowling down at the floor. He waited in uncomfortable silence for his father to say something, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.

"What's the matter? Did you have a bad day in school?" Pete asked.

"No."

"Don't you want to go trick-or-treating this year?"

Josh shrugged.

Pete rubbed the back of his neck, where he could feel tension building. "Couldn't find a costume you liked?"

"They're stupid," Josh said, still glaring at the floor like he might burn a hole in it.

"All of them?"

"Yeah. Everyone's going to be something from this store, Dad. This is where everyone shops." Josh scuffed the floor with his sneaker.

Pete took a deep breath and thought about that. "Is it because of that Halloween party you got invited to? At Sarah's?"

Josh turned an interesting shade of red. "No!"

"Well, you know you don' have to go--"

"I want to go," Josh mumbled. "I just don't want to be wearing the same stupid costume everyone else is." He wanted to look cool in front of Sarah, and that'd be kind of hard to do wearing a costume from the only shop in town. "Everyone's gonna already know all the stuff from here, dad. It sucks."

Pete glanced back at his younger son. James was waiting in line behind a mother and her son. The two boys were chatting about a ghost story one of them had heard at school. It was something Josh would've done, at that age. Christ, what a difference two years made. And it was likely only to get harder from here. "Look, how about we go to Philly next weekend?" he said to Josh. "We'll go look around some shops there, see if you can find something you like better."

"For real?" Josh's expression brightened. He seemed younger then, less pre-teen arrogance than Pete had seen in a long while.

"Yeah, I'll take you boys up there Saturday. Maybe we'll hit Dave and Buster's, too- while we're in the city anyhow." The boys were too old for Chuck E Cheese these days, but Dave and Buster's would make for a fun afternoon stop after shopping.

"Thanks, Dad! I'm gonna go tell James." He bounded off to join his brother in line.

Pete smiled, glad to have his son back to 'normal', if only for a short while.

"Hey dork-face, guess where we're going next week?" Josh said to his brother.

A very short while, apparently. Pete sighed, then joined them to pay for Jamie's pirate attire.

Couples Ballroom Dancing

petegreene — Tue, 20 Mar 2012 20:16:02 GMT

One of the perks of being a mailman was that Pete got to see the bulk mail before anyone else in town. Usually it didn't make that much of a difference, being the first to know what meat Acme had on sale, or what the Home and Garden Association had planned for their Welcome to Spring weekend. But when Seaside Vista's Continuing Education Center put out their quarterly course catalog, Pete felt like he had secret knowledge.

At least until they were all sorted and delivered, which usually took about two days tops.

Still, he snagged one of the catalogs to read on his lunch break. He loved the newsprint it was printed on, the picture of happy adult students on the front cover.He flipped through the pages, perusing his options. A good selection of language courses this time - but after his bout with Conversational Italian, he wasn't ready to try again just yet. Too bad they weren't offering any Russian courses in the language section-- wouldn't Tatja be surprised if he took one of those?

He grinned just thinking about her. Tatja, with her bright eyes and ready smile, who would certainly be taking another ESL course this time around. She wanted to improve her command of the language, and Pete thought that a fine goal. He helped to explain idioms to her when they got together - those colorful expressions that didn't seem to make much sense if you took them in a literal way. Tatja had a mind as a quick as her smile- she remembered everything he ever told her about the language, even if he'd only told her the once.

Last quarter, they'd both taken a painting class. That's how they'd met. She'd been sitting next to him, and the puzzled expression on her face when she looked over the syllabus told him that there was something she didn't understand. He'd made small talk until she'd opened up that she didn't know where she'd get some of the items on the supply list. He told her about a local craft store, and then she'd smiled at him. Her smile made butterflies bloom in his stomach, made him feel like an awkward teenager all over again.

They'd since become friends. Met for coffee. He'd been over her house once, to unclog a toilet for her. Not the most romantic of meetings, but they'd done a lot of talking that night.

As Pete flipped through the catalog, he tried to think of what other courses Tatja might take. Would she like Floral Arranging? Art Journaling? Reiki Healing and Holistic Health? Maybe not that last one, but either of the other two were a possibility. Pete wasn't sure his masculinity could stand learning how to arrange flowers, even for a chance to be near Tatja. But art journaling he could maybe do. His paintings had been passable, after all - and what's more he'd enjoyed making art. That wouldn't be the worst outcome.

On the next page, a selection of dance classes caught Pete's attention. Jitterbug and Swing. Country Line Dancing. And there, at the bottom of the page - Couples Ballroom. Pete wasn't too bad of a dancer, though he had limited experience. Mostly waltzing with his ex-wife at weddings, years ago. Doing the hokey-pokey at the roller rink with his kids when they were little. Enough to know he didn't have two left feet, at least, and he wasn't likely to step on a lady's foot either.

A daring plan came to mind. He'd call Tatja, to let her know what courses the center was offering. Share his insider knowledge. And during that call, he'd just casually happen to mention Couples Ballroom Dancing. And wouldn't that be fun, if either of them had someone to go with. Well-- maybe they could... .go together. Since it would be fun. And educational. And such.

Pete tucked the catalog into his mailbag. Time to get back to work. He'd have all day to work up the nerve to call Tatja and ask her, in that roundabout way, whether she'd want to take the dance course with him.

And to get the butterflies in his stomach under control.

Living it Up

petegreene — Thu, 15 Mar 2012 18:05:58 GMT

The night was deep and dark as Pete drove through the pine barrens toward Tatja's house. Love in an Elevator played on the Chevy's radio- on the oldies station he habitually tuned to-- and he wondered just when the Aerosmith song had gotten to be an oldie. He could remember when that song came out, and it didn't seem like so very long ago.

Hell, he was an oldie now himself. An old man, middle-aged and well on his way to getting that senior discount at the Golden Corral. AARP had already started sending him offers to sign up for their magazine.

"I shouldn't want this," he said aloud. It felt foolish at his age to be starting again. A man with grown kids, with a respectable job, with an established life shouldn't be driving twenty miles to see some girl he liked. He consoled himself in the fact it wasn't a date. She'd called him because her toilet had stopped up, and she didn't have anyone else to call.

Living it up while I'm going down , Aerosmith sang, but the only thing that would be going down tonight would be whatever was blocking Tatja's toilet. If there was a silver lining in tonight's unexpected plumbing errand, it'd just be that he'd get to see her outside of class and their occasional coffee meeting. It was nice just to see her. Just to be near her, and listen to her speak in her Slavic accent which he thought rather beautiful - though she herself was sometimes embarrassed by her less than perfect command of the language.

Lets Spend the Night Together came on after Love in an Elevator, and that was too much for Pete. He hit the pre-set button to one of the other stations he liked to listen to. Some night talk show going on there, a DJ taking callers who were going on about the hypocrisy of GOP candidates. He listened for a while, but politics tended to put him in a mood and he didn't want to be out of sorts when he got to Tatja's. He turned the radio off, rolled the window down, and listened instead to the rush of wind and the sounds of the night.

He drove the backroads, so there wasn't a lot of traffic coming either way. He wouldn't be surprised if the Jersey Devil himself lurked somewhere out in those woods, waiting for the unwary traveler.

Tatja's street - and he could only call it that if he was being charitable - was a dirt drive, with houses spaced out by thick woods between. Years of being a mailman had given him some experience in finding difficult addresses though, and her directions had been clear enough. Three driveways down, a mailbox shaped like a barn. There it was.

He drove up the long driveway, then parked in front of her house. It loomed, two stories and a large sun porch, in a cleared patch, with the woods surrounding on all sides. It was a far cry from his little one-story in the beach town of Seaside Vista. And it seemed out of sync with Tatja herself, with how bright and cheerful she was. Maybe it'd been her husband's decision, Pete thought. She didn't talk much about him, and all Pete knew was that he died several years ago. How and of what had never come up.

He got out of the car and approached the door, running a hand through his hair to straighten it as he walked. Not that he had much hair to worry about these days, but still he wanted to make a good impression. He knocked before spotting the doorbell. Just for good measure, he rung that too.

Tatja answered a scant moment later. Her face lit up like she was receiving a visit from the president. "Pete! Thank you for come, is so good of you."

He smiled like a schoolboy, ducked his head down as he walked inside. "Isn't any trouble," he said.

And he meant it.

Foolish or not at his age, Pete was just pleased to be around her. To talk to her more.

And if that involved plunging her shitter, well.

He'd be there.

Good at , bad at...

petegreene — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 07:15:16 GMT

Tell us ten things which you are good at, and two that you could use some work on.

I'm good at...
1. Delivering the US Mail. - Been doing it for twenty years, I've got it down.
2. Being a Dad. - Been doing that for twenty-two years. Also got it down.
3. Bowling. - I started bowling in a kid's league back in junior high. Been doing this all my life.
4. Taking care of my dog. - Archie's a good dog, he deserves good care.
5. Laundry. - Raising two boys, it's a skill I had to learn.
6. Driving.- You can't exactly boogie in the mail truck, but you learn to maneuver around things.
7. Trying new things.- What can I say? I'm willing to give most things a go.
8. Being open-minded. -Yeah, I'm for gays getting married and women having rights to their own uterus. Problem?
9. Making friends. - I like most people until they give me a reason not to like them.
10. Fixing things around the house. - I actually kinda enjoy home repair.

I'm not so good at...
1. Cooking for myself. - Now that the boys are gone off to college, I mostly just pop in a frozen meal. Bad, I know.
2. Knowing when to take a breather. - With the back problems I've been having lately, doc says to take it easy when I start feeling pain. Stop pushing myself so hard. Easier said than done.

Fresh Fallen

petegreene — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 06:49:49 GMT

A crisp snow had fallen the night before Pete returned to his hometown. He'd thought coming home would be like one of those Hallmark moments. The houses would be blanketed in white, ice hanging like lace from rooftops. The streets would be filled with children, giddy with snowday madness, having snowball wars.

That's how he remembered it. His sled had been a Radio Flyer, fastest on his block. His father'd hammered a special hook in the shed just to hang it. Pete would make up reasons to go into that backyard shed, just to run his fingers down the smooth wood and slick metal runners of his sled. Just to dream about that first real snowfall, when the snow would finally be deep enough to cover the hills and make for perfect sledding.

This snow turned out to be a disappointment. There'd been just enough to coat the streets in slush. Car traffic rendered it a murky gray by the time Pete arrived. The houses he remembered from his childhood had aged without much grace. They were graying just like he was, suffering the aches and pains of being past their prime.

Most were still standing, though- and there was something to be said for that. Pete trudged through the slush, glad that his boots were insulated. Not a proper snow, but still damn cold. He felt it more than he had in his youth- back then they could play outside for hours, only returning when mothers tempted them back in with hot chocolate or warm dinner.

No mother waited for him now. His parents had died decades ago. The house had been sold before the market'd gone bad, fetched Pete and his brothers a tidy sum. The past had gone to settlement too. Pete had grown up, gotten married. He'd raised two boys of his own - both off at college now. He'd been divorced seven years. Pete didn't feel connected to much of anything these days.

Maybe that was what had him walking down this familiar street toward his old backyard. Pete rubbed his eyes, and squinted against the sun. He couldn't believe what he saw in the distance. The shed still stood - well, for a given value of standing. A ramshackle structure, a relic from times gone by, leaning precariously. The door hung near off its hinges.

Pete couldn't resist a glimpse inside through the door crack. Maybe by some miracle that Radio Flyer would still be hanging there, just waiting him to reclaim it.

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. There were some pots, and a bag of soil stacked up against one wall. A rake leaned in the corner. No toys. No remains of his father's tools. No sled. But there, on the wall - there was the hook that his father had hung. The hook that had once held his sled.

Never mind that a trowel dangled from it now, and that the hook itself had clearly gone to rust. There it was.

Pete smiled then, because he knew that much like that hook and that shed - pieces of the past still remained inside him. They formed a foundation for his present, a scaffold that he could climb to reach his future.

He felt hopeful for the first time in a long time that even at his age there could still be a future worth having.

Frozen

petegreene — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 06:47:30 GMT

There's a lot of frozen meals in Pete's freezer these days. He's well acquainted with Hungry Man, and Marie Callender's his honorary girlfriend. Sometimes he splits a meal with Archie, but he's pretty sure that processed people food isn't good for dogs. It's certainly not all that good for him. He really should make some time after work to cook something fresh. But it seems a waste when it's just him and the dog now that the boys have gone off to college.

Living without them at home is a big adjustment. Sure they come home sometimes, bearing huge bags of laundry and stories of how their classes are going and what girls they've met. But they're all too soon gone again, and the house feels extra empty in their wake.

"Should we go Italian or Fried Chicken tonight?" Pete asks as he opens the freezer.

Archie whines, missing the sights and smells and sounds of life.