I have read two books this summer that are similar in their theme: memoirs of growing up in a planned community in America.

However, the communities probably couldn’t be more different! Levittown, (which are in several states), were post World War II suburban communities that forbid minorities. Co-op City is in Bronx, New York and was planned as a middle class utopia with socialist leanings that highly valued racial, ethnic and cultural diversity.

Both authors give an excellent, realistic, touching and sometimes funny account of growing up in these planned communities.

Author Michael Agovino delivers us directly into the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s to the Bronx in his book, The Bookmaker. Growing up on the 22nd floor, in a housing development that is called home by more than 50,000 people. You find out exactly what it was like to live there- you are hypnotized into the city experience. You learn the positives and negatives and have a truthful look into the lives of a bookmaker’s family.

Levittown, Pennsylvania is the stage for the next memoir. This story is profound in exposing America’s vulnerabilities- ethnocentrism, prejudice and power all wrapped up into one real estate tycoon family. Families line up to get their part of the American dream of home ownership and are faced with the isolation of suburbia. Then it comes to light that African-Americans are truly prevented from living there. It’s erie to think how recently in our history this happened.

Both stories are sure to transport you into another life- probably one that the average person would be familiar with. I recommend both of these books as a little vacation into time and circumstance.

A current photo of a typical home in Levittown, Pennsylvania.


A current photo of buildings in Co-op City, Bronx, New York.

Although quite different, do they not share similar impersonality and bleakness?

Sorry to report that the majority of posts I am writing are not appearing for some reason.

I am getting an Error Code 404.

It’s really bizarre because I do own my own site, yet use wordpress for publishing… hmmm…

Don’t know where to turn and I’m currently scanning forums.

Thanks for your patience.

Poppy

Okay, so you know how I feel about Dirty Tops on Portage Road in Niagara Falls. IF YOU HAVE ANY DIGNITY AT ALL YOU WILL NOT SHOP AT DIRTY TOPS.

I only shop there because as an adult child of an alcoholic, I lead a life filled with shame and lacked any dignity. Okay?

But listen, lately I’ve been spoiled by the opening of an Imperialist Big Box store, open 24 hours and clean, organized, friendly, with selection and some sense of decorum and public decency.

So I went to Dirty Tops this weekend and NO SHIT. They had one LANE open. ONE LANE. It had a line down to frozen foods for #@CKs sake. There was no express aisle open. Then it had the recently installed U SCANS.

BAHA HAHAHHA HAHAHAHA AHAHAHAH AHHAHA

Who was the #@CKING GENIUS that made that decision? Did they observe that store for even a workday? Listen: Dirty Tops cannot rely so heavily on U-Scan. Sure, there are some of us that can read, some of us even have an education and pay for our own groceries.

But the majority of Dirty TOPS shoppers are SCUMS. We are a SCUMMY SCUMMY LOT of people, okay? We cannot keep a tally of our groceries- therefore when the total comes up, we may have to put all or part of them back, give and take some here and there until the right total comes up because there is a limit to FOOD STAMPS, you know! In addition- we have a lot of shoplifters. I mean A LOT. I mean, I bet the majority of food is not paid for there.

Iris and I decided to take a few short stay-cations this summer instead of an actual long vacation. We were aiming for Presque Isle at Erie, Pennsylvania but we had one day to plan so we went hunting for a vintage motel online. That’s not easy. They all had lousy reviews and they were all sold out. By doing a “googlemaps” and zooming out, we were able to see all the little red dots on the map that symbolized hotels.

I randomly chose one closer to our home, because it was sitting on the edge of a lake. When we opened up the little red dot, we saw it was in a place called Bemus Point, NY. The Hotel Lenhart looked kind of cute. We found a website for Bemus Point and saw that the attractions we simply dining, shopping and the lake. Perfect.

We called up Hotel Lenhart and LUCKILY they had a room left. We were ALL SET.

We took off on Saturday early afternoon and pulled into this cute little town. The town is charming- very bucolic along Lake Chautauqua with rolling hills, little shops, cute cottages and boat docks. Bemus Point is named after a man who operated a ferry crossing Chautauqua Lake. The ferry is still in operation on weekends.

The hotel was surprising. I felt like I went back in time. Although the hotel was decorated turn of the century and the staff wore victorian clothes, I felt like I was in the 40’s upstate resort era. Screen doors and wood frames, porches, rocking chairs, vintage furnishings and floral wallpaper. The atmosphere was convivial and relaxed.

Our room was so comfortable. Absolutely no tv, radio or telephone. No wi-fi. No air conditioning. BUT… lake breezes, lake views, lace curtains flowing on the wind, chenille bedspreads, quiet comfort. Our room did not have an en suite bathroom. We had a small sink with towels and used a shared bathroom down the hall. I think most rooms have bathrooms, but we were late in registering. We actually didn’t mind at all. There was a transom window above our door that still worked! A small writing desk was tucked into the window dormer. A quick call to the main desk and an ice bucket was promptly at our door.

We immediately fell asleep for an afternoon summer nap, listening to the lake water in the cool breeze. When we woke up, we dressed for dinner but had a stop on the front porch. The front porch is famous for it’s lake view, especially at sunset. Lined with rocking chairs, and the lawn lining with adirondack chairs, we took in the sunset over the lake with fellow travelers who toasted the evening and the fellowship.


No car is necessary as we walked around the block and went through all the shops. Local art was really nice- especially hand made jewelry and glassware. We strolled over to the Italian Fisherman for dinner. The staff was excellent and professional. The view was stunning. The food was absolutely divine! I felt we were treated to a chef’s quality dinner. Absolutely spoiled ourselves.

We walked around the town and watched the last ferry depart. We strolled by a nightspot for the young ground- with a great live band and a lot of dancing.

We would back up at the Hotel Lenhart and went into the small pub. Such friendly folks! We had a few drinks and listened to ghost stories about the hotel- mingled with folklore about the previous owners. We had several good laughs. Then we moved over to the sunporch and sat among the antique wicker furniture. People played scrabble and told stories.

Eventually a group of adults left the sunroom together and we walked to the parlor to take over the one and only hotel TV for the 11 o’clock news. After watching the news, we all dispersed and spent more time on the porch and in an out of the pub. Iris and I spent quiet conversation on the front porch, while watching the moonlight dance over the lake.

Fully satisfied from a great day, we retired up to our room and promptly slept like babies on the super comfortable bed. In fact- we overslept!

A full breakfast in the dining room is included with the room. And I mean FULL, hot breakfast of many many courses, including fruits, juices, cereal, meats, etc. I had the best pancakes, (vanilla and almond flavored I believe), and Iris had Eggs Benedict. A piano was playing jovial Sunday morning music- and the pianist was a friendly man taking requests.

Sadly- our time at Hotel came to an end. Just when I realized I could stay for a whole week. This hotel is a real FIND! Iris and I discussed that if we could ever marry in New York, we’d have our wedding there and have our families stay at the Lenhart Hotel.

I felt as if I was in heaven, enveloped by a slower, quieter, more secure time. I didn’t care less about the Chautauqua Institute, the cruise boat, the antiques, any of it… just plop me at that hotel. Heaven on Earth!

front desk of Hotel Lenhart

front lobby of hotel

grand staircase up four floors

our room


heading out the front door of Hotel Lenhart

front porch rockers Hotel Lenhart is famous for

view from front porch

sun porch

So, I have a question. Let’s say you were at Wal-Mart, and you were looking at electronics. You were really concentrating on finding the correct item and you heard a woman yelling violently at a child. You are familiar with the shame and horror of being abused so your sensitivities may be a little elevated.

Nonetheless, you tune into the yelling without being able to see who is on the receiving end. Then you start to hear counting. “One!” “Two!”, the bitch yells. Wait a minute- this one isn’t actually stopping at two like most teenage welfare mothers. This one sounds older and serious.

So, let’s say you slowly peer around your aisle to see what the commotion is. Let’s say you view a very angry woman, in fact a middle aged woman in a rage, with short blond hair and a red screaming face, and she is beating the ass of a small blond boy. Then, just then, when you are shocked and beginning to suffer from PTSD flashbacks, she picks the small boy up by one arm, violently swinging his shoulder backward, and flips him up and over the side of the cart, a good two or three feet off the ground and SLAMS him into the cart. Let’s say at this point she is yelling what you think are curse words at the boy. But you aren’t sure because you are sort of in a state of disassociation.

Hypothetically, let’s say you want to yell out- SCREAM in her FACE: “Do you feel BIG NOW? Huh? Do YOU? Does it make you feel good to humiliate and physically abuse your own small child?” But you aren’t saying anything. Then you do hear something she says. She says to Small Boy, “And you should be ASHAMED. SHAME on YOU. SHAME!”

And you scream in your head to Small Boy, “No, don’t you ever feel SHAME. You have nothing to be ashamed of! You are a boy! You are a person! You are a human being and you should not be ashamed!”

And then you think, “Bitch! Crew Cut bitch! You with the RAGE problem! Do you know what you are saying? You are really speaking to yourself you SHAMEFUL BITCH! Come on, try to twist my arm you BIG COW”

Just when these silent conversations are happening in your head, you realize your cellphone camera is out of your purse. And it’s turned on. And you are following her through the store. In fact, you abandoned your cart with your purse in it. And other people are staring at her in horror. In fact, one woman is covering her face. And you are chasing after her. Let’s just say this happens.

And she is with another child, a taller girl. Maybe ten years old. Walking a brand new bike. And they wind up going to the back of the store. Maybe to wait in some sort of layaway line or something.

And then, let’s say you find yourself taking her picture with your camera phone as she is trapped in line. You can’t speak up. You are the child. You feel that burn of the pulled rotator cuff. Wait, then you realize- that child never cried. He. Never. Cried.

Let’s say he knows not to cry. Let’s say he thinks it will bring more attention he desperately does not want. Because he feels ashamed. Because his mommy will take it out on him when they are alone. Maybe he has already been broken. Maybe he REFUSES TO CRY ANYMORE. Maybe he really isn’t in his body right now.

And maybe that lady is just standing in line, now smiling at the clerk. As if nothing happened. Not noticing you are taking her picture.

So, if that ever happened to you, and you went home, and put that camera-phone photo up on your blog- and said that in your opinion what you witnessed was abuse, would you be liable for slander?

This newspaper clipping was found in my Grandma Vicky’s collection of recipes. The newspaper isn’t identified, but I recognize this delicious dish, very similar to Kapusta. This makes an excellent side dish!

A suggested Polish American dinner may include fried breaded porkchops or smoked kielbasa as the main dish, with this being the side and perhaps rye bread and butter.

Ingredient List:
1 medium red cabbage
2 tbs. vinegar or lemon juice
4 slices bacon, diced
1/4 cup brown sugar, packed
2 tbs. flour
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup vinegar
1 tsp. salt
1/6 tsp. pepper
1 small onion, sliced

Directions:
Remove outside leaves from cabbage; wash cabbage. Shred to measure 5 cups. In saucepan, heat 1/2 inch salted water (1/2 teaspoon salt to 1 cup water) and 2 tablespoons vinegar to boiling. Add cabbage. Cover and heat to boiling; cook about 5 minutes or until crisp-tender. Drain. Fry bacon until crisp; drain. Pour off all but 1 tablespoon bacon drippings. Stir brown sugar and flour into drippings in skillet. Add water, 1/2 cup vinegar, the salt, pepper and onion. Cook stirring frequently, until mixture thickens, about 5 minutes. Add bacon and sauce mixture to cabbage; stir together and heat through. If you wish, garnish with additional crispy fried diced bacon. (Serves 6)

Submitted by Wiez Dance Ensemble

Well HELLO my fuzzies! If you came here today looking for a Bad Recipe Wednesday article, sorry to disappoint you. Iris and I have been so busy for four or five days with our house completely torn up. We are pulling out all of our carpeting, refinishing hardwood floors, repairing plaster sand painting the walls and ceilings.

Part of the project is that I am renovating a fireplace. Before you question it, I’ll admit it is a FAUX fireplace, okay? I’ll wait while you get done laughing.

Are you done? Great.


So this fireplace is beautiful but it is not a real working fireplace. In fact, it can be moved from place to place. Polish Americans such as I are probably very familiar with this. Ahem.


Anyway, to give you some idea of what I’ve been doing, I’m providing some photos of my fireplace project. Having already painted the mantle and surround, I am stained-glass mosaic tiling the inset of the fireplace.

Late last night, I applied the grout and did the first round of cleaning. Today I’ll finish polishing the tiles and cleaning the grout job.

Soon, we’ll show you pics of our walls. Maybe even put the webcam back up so you can watch Iris plastering the walls to really really loud 80’s music!


close up of the tiles


An adhesive eating bandit stole my gorilla glue but I got it back before he could hurt himself.