The Wallace Drug Wars

Ha, got your attention, didn't it? No, I am not talking about that kind of drug war. I am talking about the three drug stores that Wallace had when I was growing up. There was  Lockhart's Pharmacy, Ramsier Pharmacy, and of course the classic Rexall Drug. I know, it is hard to believe that there were three nice pharmacies in Wallace when not even one exists now. There were also three dry cleaners but that is for another day.

Lockhart's Pharmacy was located between Morrow's and Fonks , and was by far my favorite drug store. Why you ask, was that my favorite one? Well, there were three reasons. They were Cathy, Kerry, and Christie Lockhart, the Lockhart sisters. They all worked in their dad's store at one time or another, and it was well worth the visit to just see one of the girls. ( come on, I was a teenager, give me a break)
Anyway, sadly the Lockhart Pharmacy became Modern Drug, and later Modern Drug moved to Tabors and later disappeared altogether..

Around the corner on 5th Street was Ramsier's Pharmacy. Now, no offense to this business, and Mr Ramsier was a very nice man, but  it was almost only a drug store. Wow, what a concept, Drug stores are anything but drug stores now days. In the very back of these so called pharmacies of today, there is a very small counter for prescriptions. Anyway, Ramsier's had very little for a young boy to want, and I seldom ventured in there.


The third and final player in the Wallace Drug Wars was am old fashioned Rexall Drug Store located right across the street from the Smokehouse. Now,I kind of liked this old drug store, No, there were no Lockhart girls to look at, but, there was a sense of history here. As one entered the store there was a hug scale that my brother and I would weigh on every time that we went in there. Back in those days I wanted to gain, and as I grew I became more and more excited as I hit 170, 180,190, and finally topped the magical 200 mark when I was a sophomore. Now, I would love to get below that magical mark again. I remember the mysterious and colorful bottles of medicines. The pharmacists actually mixed their the medicines back then. At one time, when I was very little, there was a soda fountain in this old store, bu that went by the wayside sometime when I was in early grade school.



And now, there are no pharmacies in Wallace. That is very sad. Ah yes, the drug wars of Wallace were during a very good time. Oh the good old days.

I Become A Special Forces Veteran

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Curits, My Man

As  you can imagine, hotels have lots of outside windows, and those same windows have an annoying habit of getting very dirty. Someone needs to clean those dirty windows, but not I said the housekeeper, nor I said the maintenance man, and not I said the desk clerk, and certainly not me, the GM. So, who wold clean those windows without breaking the budget that I had to work with? Well, Curtis, of course.

We are back on 85th and Aurora, Emerald Inn, Seattle, WA, my favorite place for my hotel stories,as those of you who read them several years ago recall. I really miss those days. There was never a dull moment.

OK, let's get back to those dirty windows. One day when I was working the front desk, a middle aged looking street person came into the office and asked if I needed the windows washed. Yes, I certainly did, but the questions running rapidly in my head as I looked at this man were:
1. Did I trust him


2. Did I trust him.

After all, my guest's safety and privacy were at stake here as well as the question of did this guy even know how to wash windows? And then back to the two previous questions. Did I trust him?I had to make a decision, and so I said yes to him. We set a price that was more than fair for doing the entire outside of the hotel. The man introduced himself to me as "Curtis", and then said that he was known on the street as " Detroit". I called him Curtis.


I watched with merriment and growing curiosity as Curtis gathered his bucket,brush, and squeegee,and started to work cleaning the windows. Honestly, I did not expect much in the way of him doing a good job, but I was soon proven wrong. Curtis was like an artist with the brush and squeegee. I have never seen windows washed quicker and cleaner . Curtis was the Picasso of the street window washing artists. When he was finished, I paid hm what we had agreed on plus a tip. He then shook my hand and said that if I ever needed help on the street with the gangs, just to mention that I was a friend of  "Detroit". Curtis was maybe 5 foot 7, maybe 135 pounds, so I thought ,sure, I just bet he strikes fear into some of the gangs that ran in the neighborhood .I was pleased though, that the windows were clean, at least for the time being.


I didn't know if I would ever see Curtis again. He lived on the street at the time, and those who lived on the street had a way of not being seen or heard from again.  I would, however, see Curtis many more times, and sometimes it was to wash the windows, and other times, well, they were not so pleasant encounters. There would come a time in the not too distant future when knowing Curtis could very possibly have saved my life.




Stay tuned.

Happy Anniversary, Baby

Tomorrow is our 5th wedding anniversary. I am re posting a blog that I did several years ago about how we met. Love is in the air.

Originally posted in 2008

Yes, my hotel days were filled with some of the weirdest characters on the face of the earth, and I cherish those memories. However, I met some of the greatest people I have ever known in the hotels,too. I met US Senators, sports stars, Las Vegas show people, Jose Feliciono,Ray Charles,(I have a story about the late, great Ray Charles that I will share later) Mickey Finn, Rickey Nelson, Lawrence Welk orchestra, and many,many others that I have stories about. But,today I am going to take a break from the seedy and the glamor to tell you a true love story that happened at my last General Manager's job before my illness got me.





Love comes as a surprise when it does come, and it often sends it's sweet arrows when you are not even looking.I had been divorced from my first wife for twenty-three years, and quite frankly, I did not know if I would ever tie the knot again. The older I got, the more set in my bachelor ways I became, and I didn't even know if I wanted to leave the comfort zone, Yes, I was lonely at times, but my job allowed me to go from place to place, and added a degree of excitement to my life. My two children were grown and doing very well, and I had the love of my life,my grandson in Seattle. So, I was content,although sometimes longing for that special someone again.





I was always looking for good employees, especially housekeepers. At the time I was seeking a housekeeping manager to shape up my ragged staff. Believe me, they are very, very hard to find.The one day in late March of 2006, a lady came in to apply for the job in housekeeping. She was also looking for a place to live as she had just moved here from back East. We did weekly rentals of a few rooms for construction workers, and folks looking for housing as they moved into the city, so I not only hired here for the housekeeping position, I also rented her a room by the week. I was pleased becasue I had found an excellent housekeeping manager, and also made money for the hotel. I just did not just how well I had really done, yet.



Lifetimes and events are defined by moments that we might not even be cognizent of.They transpire like the rapid wing flutter of a hummingbird, and yet they change our lives for ever.Such was the afternoon of April 20,2006, and I was not even aware that it was happening. I was at the Front Desk dealing with a very disgruntled female guest. I cannot even tell you the details of the confrontation because quite frankly, it was just another day for me. Candy, my new housekeeping manager had come down to the front desk, and from what I was later told, I looked over at her in a way that"melted her heart" I didn't even know I had done that.



Apparently, from what she later told me, she went back to her room and wrote in her journal"Oh my God" I swear I have no idea what kind of look that I gave her, but, that look changed both of

our lives forever.Candy kept her new found feelings for me to herself for months. After all, I was her boss,, and she thought that I had relationship in Los Angeles that I was serious about.Through a hotel guest problem that involved Candy and I , we began to talk, and even though I felt no romantic interest on the surface, I found myself seeking her out, making excuses to go up to the floor that she was working just to chat. I even asked her out for a casual dinner and we went for a drive, but I still didn't know where this was all going.We were, though, becoming good friends rapidly. I was blind to her real feelings, typical male that I am.



It was now late July and the heat was getting unbearable tourists were flooding the hotel, tempers were getting short, and my staff was way over worked. It was about two in the afternoon when I got a call from Candy asking me to come up to the third floor becasue she needed to talk to me. I assumed she wanted to talk about the problem with a guest. I went up there and she asked me if I was serious about my relationship with this lady from L.A. I told her I probably was, and then she dropped the bomb. She wanted me to know that if it didn't work out that I would never be alone. It took a few minutes for what she was saying to sink in through my thick brain, and then it hit me. I told her I needed to go, and I went down to my living quarters, I lived in the hotel, and lay down on my bed.



Hm,this was an interesting turn of events. What did I really feel for her? Several times in my life I had passed on possible relationships, but this time I decided to check this one out. About seven P.M. I called Candy and asked her if she wanted to go for a ride. I found out later that she was really scared that I was going to fire her. We drove into the City, and walked down the streets.It was then that I made a small gesture that would change everything. I reached over and took her hand. When we drove back to the hotel, we stopped at the city park, and I asked her if she was serious about her feelings, and please not to start something that she could not finish. I then put my arms around her and kissed her.



That was July of 2006, and on Feb,12,2007, after twenty three years of living alone, we became husband and wife. Candy is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, and not only are we married, we are best friends, lovers, and buddies. I have never looked back, and everyday I thank God for whatever look I gave her back on that spring day in April.

I Am Getting A Liltte Bit Ornery

Well, I guess I am getting a little more ornery as I plug along. Funny thing is that when I looked up the word ornery on the online dictionary, it used the word "old" in conjunction with ornery. 




http://www.merriam-webster.com/ornery

An ornery old man yelling to keep off his lawn
An old man getting more ornery has he gets older




Can't kids be ornery, too? How about middle aged folks? Can they be ornery?
The  definition of ornery is "having an irritable disposition"Sounds nasty, doesn't it? Sounds like something that one should see a doctor for. But, none the less, I AM getting more ornery as I get older. Do they have a pill for it?  Actually, I am too ornery to care.

Imagine That

Sometimes I feel like a figment of my own imagination.
Lily Tomlin

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

Wow, it sounds so strange. I remember when we were the young ones. I remember when everyone said that I did not look my age. I even remember when the waitress in Spokane thought that my son was my little brother. Well something must have changed. 


My oxygen guy was here today replenishing my stash and told me about a  guy" about your age, or maybe a little younger." What was he implying, anyway? Then there was the lady who cuts my hair. I was there on Monday, and she asked me if I ask for senior discounts at a local grocery store that offers them one day each week. But, the topper of all toppers was when a waitress asked me if  she could give me a senior discount on my lunch. I put on my best indignant grimace, and snapped at her" I am not even close to that age". to which she replied without missing a beat "You sure could have fooled me."

Getting Older and Wiser?

I like part of getting older because I am much more relaxed than when I was younger. I used to be a bundle of nerves, hurrying here, worrying about this and that, and trying to validate my existence.
Now, I know that  my existence is validated by my existence. Think about it.


Of course there are some parts of getting older that I don't like. The parts that used to be stiff are no longer stiff, and the parts that used to be limber are now stiff. A lot of the hair that used to be on top of my head seems to have migrated south a bit, and is showing up in some very peculiar places.


But some things don't change. I used to fantasize about what I would be when I grew up. Well, I still fantasize about what I will be when I grow up, if I ever grow up. I was looking at a picture yesterday of my new grandson experiencing grass for the first time. (No not that kind). He was so enthralled by a simple blade of grass, and his little fist was holding the blade as if it held the key to all mysteries of life. Heck, maybe it does.


So, I think that I have it all figured out. Aging is not about getting older, It is about letting our minds get younger,and going back to the days when we were so delighted to hold a blade of grass, or play in the dirt, and, oh , why not? Jump into a mud puddle.

Monsters That We Draw

When my daughter was very young, she was busy coloring and drawing  when all of a sudden she started  crying and screaming as if she was terrified. Her mother went running over to her and asked her what was wrong. My daughter answered, " I drew a picture of a monster, and that monster scared me, Mommy"

Her mother and I laughed and laughed about that later that night, and I still laugh when I think of that story . We so often draw, or invent our own monsters in our lives, and then scream in terror because we are scared of a monster that we made up. The world that we see is the world that we draw in our minds.