Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Two Brothers Pizza, NYC...


Recently I was in New York City for a long weekend. It was my first trip, but I have the feeling that it won't be my last. I was totally taken in by the charm and energy that this city is famous for. My daughter and I wandered down a side street and right into a Turkish festival- replete with Whirling Dervishes. We also wandered into the delightful Bryant Park, it was a beautiful and sunny day with New Yorkers out enjoying their Sunday morning the best way possible. That Sunday morning is going to be one of the most memorable I have ever spent.

We had to eat, and Katie knew exactly what she wanted; street food. She is passionate about New York pizza and we came across one of the best pizza places I have ever been to. There were no brick pizza ovens, no fancy wines, not even regular tables and chairs. That is what there was not; what was there was honesty, plain and simple. It was in the food, and it was in the people who ate there and were working there.

The pizza was memorable simply for being so simple- no fancy toppings, just wonderful crust, homemade tomato sauce, and cheese. Oregano was optional on the side. The menu said, 'a buck a slice or two slices and a can of soda for $2.50'. You can't beat that deal anywhere in the world. But that really wasn't the best part of Two Brothers; the best part was watching the people who were there. In the space of the 20 minutes that Katie and I were there I noted people from all over the world waiting in line- Nigeria, Japan, Central America, and America. Somehow they all gravitated there. However, the most amazing thing to me was the actual workers making the pizza.

I'm not sure there was anyone there who was one of the 'two brothers' . I only say this because I didn't see an italian person anywhere behind the counter; the guys I saw behind the counter were all Mexican guys. Five of them. And all working hard. They seemed happy to be where they were, but I don't think it has occurred to any one of them just exactly what it is that they are really doing there. Sure, they were making pizza nonstop but do they realize what they really do day in and day out? They are feeding a city- simply put they nourish a family of four for five dollars- that is real comfort when you don't speak the language and need to feed your wife and children. They also make a meal affordable to the homeless guy who is bumming change so he can have his daily meal and can't afford McDonalds.

These five Mexican guys think that they just have jobs. But in reality they are the cornerstone of this amazing city. And this entire country. They are the people that have successfully built our country for hundreds of years. They aren't from here, but they are of here, just like millions of other immigrants who came before them. And because of these people our country will continue to grow and prosper. Sure, they were all wearing Yankee hats but it wasn't out of love for Jeter or A-Rod, it was because they want to belong. And they certainly do.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

The true face of love...


I lost someone very dear to me yesterday. His name was Raider Harewood Dragonslayer Hunt Macdougall - Ray Macdougall, for short. To most people he looked like a Fox Terrier but to me he looked like love.

Raider isn't the first dog that I have had to say goodbye to. No, not by a long shot. Growing up my family had a penchant for wanting to have a dog in their lives, I think to my stepfather it seemed like the 'right' thing to do. But when it became inconvenient for us to actually have the little guy around then all of the sudden he was gone. I'm not sure why my stepfather couldn't see the responsibility that he was undertaking, but he just couldn't. So, I grew up not trying to get attached.

Then I moved away, eventually going to college and then getting married. My new husband was gone for long stretches of time, like a US Army Officer is wont to do, and I needed someone to keep me company. That is where Russell Sage came in. Russell was an American Wooly Cocker Spaniel. He was as good looking a guy as I had ever seen, shiny black coat and big brown eyes. He loved to stand on his hind legs and look out our dining room window, and when he did I swear he looked like a little person with fuzzy black pants on. He was the 'boy next door' to me- he lived next door to us in our first military home when we moved to Ft. Huachuca, Arizona. I have to say that when he and I saw each other the first time it was true love at first sight for us both. In due time Russell came to live with us, I felt I was the luckiest girl around. He was my constant companion and lived with my husband and I through many moves, including living in Germany for a good portion of his life. He was twelve when he passed away, I had innocently figured he would live with me forever.

We didn't have another dog in our life until the kids were around and actually were much older. We acquired Harry the Chihuahua on a whim, and he was eight pounds of raw fury. He had a Latino temper, and was prone to leaving a 'gift' wherever he felt like it, but he could be fun. We lost him to Addison's disease, his adrenal gland simply shut down and in the space of ten days he was gone. He wasn't even three years old and it was hard to deal with, I (uselessly) vowed 'never again'.

Then Sage came into our lives. My husband was convinced that our son needed a canine friend to tell his troubles to, and no amount of protestation from me could change his mind. Before I knew what was happening we were coming home from the breeder with an eleven week old Newfoundland puppy that was bigger than most full grown dogs nestled quite contently between Alex and Katie in the back seat of our car. She fit right in with us, and even though she loves all of us she really does love 'her boy' best. She is true blue.

This is where Raider comes into the picture. He came into my life by accident- he was a 'gift of a gift', if you will. My friend had acquired him as part of a real estate transaction, he had accepted Raider as a gift. Within six weeks of Raider going home with Kevin it was clear that he wasn't suited to that household.

The good thing was that Kevin would bring him to the office with him, so I could see Raider almost every single day I was at work. My heart would really leap when I saw him coming across the parking lot with Kevin in the morning. Raider and I hit it off from the beginning; the first day at the office he came to sit next to me while I was at my desk. He looked up at me with his 'worry' expression and I melted. Before long Raider was helping himself to my lap while I was attempting to work at my desk. I couldn't help but fall in love with him.

So, when Kevin decided that his carpets at home weren't worth getting messed up- Raider hadn't been housebroken yet, he passed Raider on to me. I asked Kevin if we could have a 'trial run' for a weekend, Sage had to approve after all, and Raider and I never looked back. After that first weekend my husband even agreed that Raider was the perfect size for a dog.

Raider had a penchant for fun, that was obvious from the beginning. When he and Sage were introduced Sage barked at him and he was startled. See, his breeder was in the habit of cutting her dogs vocal chords so they wouldn't bark, so Raider had never heard a dog bark. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but he didn't let the boom that he heard from Sage deter him. Within 24 hours of coming to live with us he had Sage rolling over on her back in submission- he was the tiny Alpha Male in this household. I was startled the first time I ever heard Raider 'bark'- it was more of a whiney yelp than anything, but in due time he produced exceptional barks that rivaled Sage in annoyance. He had learned from a true master.

A terrier's composition is one of determination, and Raider was no different. Whatever he did he wanted to give his all; he could leap four feet in the air from a dead standstill. He loved to 'play chase' with me chasing him through the downstairs- he would tuck his tail under his backside and take off. The joy in his running was obvious- he loved nothing more than to escape out the front door and take off down the street. We would eventually catch him, but he always loved the adventure of getting out and running free. His favorite words were 'walk', 'dinner' and 'cookie'. But he also loved to just climb on top of me and lay down on me. As much as Sage was Alex's dog, Raider was mine. He would absolutely wiggle with joy when I would come home, and I would feel the same way when I saw him after a long day.

One thing that I wasn't prepared for was the empathy that seemed to be Raider's best quality. One time, after a particularly angry fight with my husband, I sat outside and cried my heart out. The pain I was feeling was quickly gone when Raider came to my side and put his paw on my arm. He wanted me to know that he didn't want me to hurt; he couldn't verbalize it in human terms, but he sure knew how to let me know in his own way. I have never had a better friend.

This past year has been one of upheaval for me. My husband of 29 years has moved on, and I have had to reconfigure my future. The one thing that I had planned and assumed was that Raider would be by my side for the next few years; that included sitting in the front seat of my car while we headed out for our new life in Arizona... Fast forward to yesterday. We found out that Raider had prostate cancer about a month ago. The vet was honest, but he wasn't accurate. He told us that Raider had three to six months, but in reality it was less than a month. For the past few weeks I could see him getting weaker and slower. The determination was still there, but the physical capabilities just were not.

I took Raider to the vet yesterday morning merely for an assessment, but the vet told me he had three to four days before his kidneys shut down. I was afraid of the news I would receive but I also knew that I had to show the same kind of love and compassion for Raider that he had given to me over the years.

I held onto him while he was on the exam table, my arms were around him and he had his left paw draped over my arm. As I held him I kept telling him how I loved him- the pain I experienced yesterday is the kind of pain born of true love; it is a bond that can't be adequately explained if you have never loved someone like Raider, or been loved by someone like him. I am lucky- I have, and I am all the better for it. Thank you, Ray, you mean everything to me. But you know that.