Category Archives: Edinboro

Post M’alone

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Here in Edinboro, Pa., when I was a kid, street signs were these four-foot-tall white concrete monoliths with the street names in black lettering. I reckon they thought that was a rustic little touch to Lakeside. At some point, though, this borough had to put up real street signs, probably at the behest of PENNDOT or some other crazy liberal big-government nonsense.

These days though when you’re walking around Lakeside, you notice that these posts seem a bit more colorful. It seems the fad now is to paint the things. Here’s one I made a picture of yesterday while Mom and I were out for a typical lake walk.

Of course it is dog-themed. I think Edinboro has more dogs than people.

Anyway, here’s the scoop on all the post painting. Edinboro is like that, community-minded and crafty. I noticed as we walked yesterday that it’s also a good excuse for neighbors to have some new conversations.

This, of course, while maintaining a healthy six-foot distance.

It feels pretty good after six months in maintaining a comfort bubble within Monroe County, New York, to bust out and finally send a little time at my lake. I am right now this morning watching the most screamy children I’ve ever witnessed play at the playground across the street. Beyond that in my eyeshot is the pretty, spring-fed lake that draws people here, a little choppy this morning. Mom and I are having a nice, albeit socially distanced, visit. I had to have her watch my favorite new whodunnit Knives Out last night, and I think it was a hit. I liked it better the second time around; that is a good movie.

There is even less to do here than usual. Many antique shops are open by appointment only, the campus is sparsely populated, and we are still not as lulled as a Trump fan that sidling up to the bar at the Edinboro Hotel is a great idea. But it sure is pretty. And we have these new decorated posts to look at.

V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N

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This is day six of an actual vacation. I recommend them. But I Must be feeling the pull back because work dream this morning. It was not a nice audit.

There was a nice, brief walk by the lake at about 7:30 a.m., mainly to get the cricks out of my back. Maybe back to sleeping on the sofa tonight.

My biggest plan today is a haircut. I’ve gone to SportClips for years, and the last one did not really take. It still feels thick on the sides. I need a good cut for a summer. So today I will try the local guy. And maybe some lunch. I can’t decide between Mexican or regular bar fare. I’ll decide then and there and that will be wonderful.

I haven’t really done the antique row yet. Not that I need to buy anything, although, due to my latest interest in cast iron pizza, the right 14-inch piece might just come home with me.

I did get to visit the new market previously and will return today. I’m thinking burgers.

I’ve been watering grass all week, three times a day. There was some damage to the land on either side of the driveway. When I arrived, I saw the straw and reckoned I was here just in time to help the new grass along. Won’t need to do it today as it rained last night and looks like it’s fixing to pour some more. But I’ve enjoyed doing it.

I’ve reviewed receipts from five months. I’ve cleaned my car’s interior. I’ve cooked two pizzas from scratch store-bought, had a nice steak meal and watched a pretty funny movie (Game Night). I have started this spreadsheet to keep track of some of the most important music in the world:

So yes. I recommend vacations. I’m all for them.

I was nominated a third time to do the album list thing on Facebook. Ahem:

I was nominated…to list my 10 all-time favorite albums, ones that have really made an impact and are still on my rotation list, even if only now and then. In accordance with directions, I’ll do my best to post an album cover each day for 10 days. No Particular order, No explanations, just the cover.

#1:

Edinboro December 2016

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I am learning how to do Edinboro.

Please understand that Edinboro, Pa. is a rather special place for my family and I. I myself have 48 years of memories here, of some of the happiest times I ever knew. But in 1986, when my Grandpa died, Edinboro changed for everyone because his widow, my dear Granny G, made it her home, which it was from then until she died in May 2016.

So I no longer come here to visit my Granny G (except in spirit of course, which I will discuss in a bit). So this place which once held my childhood wonder with elements such as The Penny Candy Store, bike rides, sandy flip-flops, canoe excursions, and the like, is now… well…

Radiolab recently ran a story about a woman with an odd neurological condition she first noticed when she was a child. From time to time, her sense of place shifted by about 45 degrees. So for her, when this happened, nothing seemed to be in the right place. Wait, let me see if I can find it for ya.

So it feels kind of like that.

Now my theory has been that you leave Rochester Friday night after your shift. But I tried this last night, and it was no fun. First the snow made the road feel like a pool full of ball bearings. So I chickened out and left the thruway at the next exit. And promptly was met with completely stopped traffic.

I do not do well in stopped traffic.

It cleared, and then my GPS got me lost by mistaking Avenue for Road.

I finally got home and had cancelled this trip in my head before I slept. But I woke up this morning and was gung-ho.

Via this, I have concluded the move is to get home from work, go to bed, then get up early and beat feet.

Still learning.

So anyway, I am here, in our quiet lake house. I have some writing to do (Zappadan, don’tcha know). And I brought laundry. And I had a nice lunch and did some antique looking. Picked up some toiletries I had forgotten at the CVS.

Then I went to see the other piece of real estate my family owns here.

I told my Granny G about President-Elect Trump.

I told her I was sorry.

I told her we had tried.

It did not have the necromancing quality I had expected. She did not come to life and claw her way up to demand answers.

I really sort of expected her to. I mean, I even told her Trump had talked to Taiwan.

What a nitwit.

Anyway. Look out, folks. Zappadan is coming!

Grandma G’s Trademark Laugh

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My Grandma G laughed a certain laugh, one without abandon and with her whole entire body, not at jokes or at funny or ironic situations, but when she was excited for you and your good news, or when she was excited to see you.

It was a laugh unique to her and I never realized while she was living how generous it was. She gave me that laugh again while she was on her second-to-last bed with a mask strapped to her face offering her body 100 percent oxygen, which her body was likely using only a fraction thereof, due to her heart not working much at all at the time.

It was about the new apartment. I had not yet moved in but the move was finally on the calendar. And she wanted every shred of news she could get out of me. And we talked about the new apartment, and she gave me that laugh and told me how excited she was about it.

I think the oxygen, while it was not actually contributing to her respiration, I think it was somehow energizing her. The nurses had to remind her not to talk too much, not to get too excited, because, you know, all that stuff uses more oxygen.

That was the last time I saw her fully cognizant. The last time, and she gave me that generous, excited-for-you laugh. I am at her house tonight, and when I walked through the door, I heard that laugh, though now only in my head.

But I heard it. I reckon I always will. I just wish I’d recognized it for what it was when she was here. That woman had pure joy for everyone in her life and was so excited about good news from them that it made her laugh better than she laughed about anything else.

Gosh she was something.

The Little House I Used To Live In

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the cottage

Well, periodically.

Flip Cafe would indeed be the best cuisine in town if its chefs weren’t so darned scared of NaCl.

I ordered and omelet with something called “flip potatoes,” which is just hash browns, but they partially steam them somehow so they come out downright fluffy. Or maybe they rice them. I don’t know; there is a quality to these potatoes that are just a bit more luxurious than an eater is accustomed.

The omelet was a spinach and tomato affair topped with pepper jack cheese. It was technically excellent; fluffy, well-folded, the spinach still retained a nice bite. Not to mention: The toast is sliced from a homemade loaf.

The only thing missing was seasoning. Until I picked up the shaker, no sodium had touched my plate.

This might (and that’s a BIG might) be okay for my Mom’s dish, a little dish we like to call “Egg.” I mean, someone who orders scrambled may not be looking for a more seasoned dish and may not mind adjusting with the salt shaker if needed.

An omelet, however, sigh. A little snowing of kosher salt sometime during the cooking would have been helpful.

Despite this overlooked detail, it is safe to say the best plate in the ‘boro these days is Flip. My new goal is to try its lunch offerings.

It was a nice visit, a fine way to cap off my summer. I got to see Auntie and Uncle from Big Bear and got marched all around and up and down the Lake by my Mom. Got to see my Gramma to boot, and I finally got the friggin’ Roku set up for her. Now she can watch Frasier to her heart’s content.

We also took part in the human tradition of driving up to a rock in the ground with a person’s name on it and saying nice things about that person.

the cottage

Yeah, that was a pretty nice week.

The Little House I Used To Live In

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the cottage

Well, periodically.

Flip Cafe would indeed be the best cuisine in town if its chefs weren’t so darned scared of NaCl.

I ordered and omelet with something called “flip potatoes,” which is just hash browns, but they partially steam them somehow so they come out downright fluffy. Or maybe they rice them. I don’t know; there is a quality to these potatoes that are just a bit more luxurious than an eater is accustomed.

The omelet was a spinach and tomato affair topped with pepper jack cheese. It was technically excellent; fluffy, well-folded, the spinach still retained a nice bite. Not to mention: The toast is sliced from a homemade loaf.

The only thing missing was seasoning. Until I picked up the shaker, no sodium had touched my plate.

This might (and that’s a BIG might) be okay for my Mom’s dish, a little dish we like to call “Egg.” I mean, someone who orders scrambled may not be looking for a more seasoned dish and may not mind adjusting with the salt shaker if needed.

An omelet, however, sigh. A little snowing of kosher salt sometime during the cooking would have been helpful.

Despite this overlooked detail, it is safe to say the best plate in the ‘boro these days is Flip. My new goal is to try its lunch offerings.

It was a nice visit, a fine way to cap off my summer. I got to see Auntie and Uncle from Big Bear and got marched all around and up and down the Lake by my Mom. Got to see my Gramma to boot, and I finally got the friggin’ Roku set up for her. Now she can watch Frasier to her heart’s content.

We also took part in the human tradition of driving up to a rock in the ground with a person’s name on it and saying nice things about that person.

the cottage

Yeah, that was a pretty nice week.

I’m So Glad We Had This Time Together

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(I thought before that I knew how to use the iPhone’s panoramic lens. I didn’t. Until today. I was holding the phone incorrectly! This is pretty much the full view from the back deck of where I get to stay in Edinboro. This image is clickable to a larger view. Just click on it!)

The great musical movement that partially was born in my high school a generation behind me was called Devo.

That of my era was called The Twist-Offs.

It was fun to go to a Twist-Offs show and jump up and down a lot. They made music that was excellent for jumping up and down. But not only was it good for jumping up and down. It was good music. Well-considered arrangements. Horns. And actually thoughtful, imaginative lyrics. I am a Twist-Offs EVANGELIST. And if I still lived in Kent those boys would have had to put up with my funny face and my set list thefts now for decades. I think they play periodically in Northeast Ohio, but these guys had a real live indie record deal. I even heard one of their songs played as background during MTV’s The Real World once.

Anyway, I think they were playing KentFest once or something, and they were handing out some tchotchkes. These:

Get it?

I owned two of these. One was orange, and that one I made the mistake of using as a keychain. The band’s logo wore off. Luckily, my Dear Mother was in possession of this one all these years, and it has remained unblemished. She released it into my possession today, along with a boss collection of 45s (including some old joints from Illinois Jaquet and other Apollo artists, records I’ve been hunting down for years) and a rather interesting edition of the Akron-Beacon Journal from May 24, 1970 that I may mine for blog entries later.

So Mama brought me a treasure chest to Edinboro. Thanks Mama.

Speaking of legends who attended the same high school as did I, John Uhrich was and is one of the best drawers with whom I have shaken hands. You should visit his blog, Duck-Duck-Gorilla. The guy has apparently just started drawing comic strips to “brush up on [his] digital inking skills.” (Cough HUMBLEBRAG) Watch out, Pastis!

Edinboro needs cuisine. Badly.

This is the Sunset Grill at the Edinboro Lake Resort. As you can see, it does what it says on the tin.

Serves sammiches in baskets with chips. Which is fine, and the sammiches are good, but one would think the food could match the stellar ambiance. Still. I love this place.

The Crossroads Dinor has dropped the “Dinor” and seems to do everything it can to shy away from being a diner although it has the diner car. Oh to walk in there and be able to order an open faced roast beef sammich with fries flooded with gravy. But that ain’t on the menu.

No shit on a shingle for you.

And you don’t want these fries. The place prides itself on fresh-cut fries, but they don’t really know how to cook them.

My suspicion is that they’re circumventing the step of soaking the taters first to leech out some of the starch. These fries are rubbery and weird.

Get the applesauce instead.

The best meal out of the week so far has been at the Empty Keg. Burger. Steak fries, probably from Ore-Ida. Which were delicious.

And, where they served me a true Iron City beer:

Okay, it was a Sierra Nevada. But I have to wonder how many of these glasses walk out of the place under somebody’s jacket.

I said best meal “so far.” We have yet to enjoy my departure breakfast at Flip. That my friends is the finest food in town. Can’t wait.

(When Flip Cafe was opening, my then nearly 90-year-old Grandma DID A SOMERSAULT IN THE AIR in the middle of the sidewalk when we discovered it. She really did. I watched her do it. She jumped up in the air, kicked her legs around, and landed on her feet, and then she gave out this sort of guttural “WHOOP!” Because, you see, her Dad’s nickname all his life, or at least as long as I knew him, was “Flip.”

Okay, she didn’t really do that. But she sure was excited about that particular serendipity.)

The evening ended for some reason with me describing to my Mom and Grandma the famous incident on The Carol Burnett Show with Tim Conway and the elephant story. I can’t do it justice, so here, go see for yourself.

Thus, the title of this blog entry.

I’m sure I’m not done documenting my last summer trek to Lakeside of the year.

Gosh I need to moisturize.

I’m So Glad We Had This Time Together

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(I thought before that I knew how to use the iPhone’s panoramic lens. I didn’t. Until today. I was holding the phone incorrectly! This is pretty much the full view from the back deck of where I get to stay in Edinboro. This image is clickable to a larger view. Just click on it!)

The great musical movement that partially was born in my high school a generation behind me was called Devo.

That of my era was called The Twist-Offs.

It was fun to go to a Twist-Offs show and jump up and down a lot. They made music that was excellent for jumping up and down. But not only was it good for jumping up and down. It was good music. Well-considered arrangements. Horns. And actually thoughtful, imaginative lyrics. I am a Twist-Offs EVANGELIST. And if I still lived in Kent those boys would have had to put up with my funny face and my set list thefts now for decades. I think they play periodically in Northeast Ohio, but these guys had a real live indie record deal. I even heard one of their songs played as background during MTV’s The Real World once.

Anyway, I think they were playing KentFest once or something, and they were handing out some tchotchkes. These:

Get it?

I owned two of these. One was orange, and that one I made the mistake of using as a keychain. The band’s logo wore off. Luckily, my Dear Mother was in possession of this one all these years, and it has remained unblemished. She released it into my possession today, along with a boss collection of 45s (including some old joints from Illinois Jaquet and other Apollo artists, records I’ve been hunting down for years) and a rather interesting edition of the Akron-Beacon Journal from May 24, 1970 that I may mine for blog entries later.

So Mama brought me a treasure chest to Edinboro. Thanks Mama.

Speaking of legends who attended the same high school as did I, John Uhrich was and is one of the best drawers with whom I have shaken hands. You should visit his blog, Duck-Duck-Gorilla. The guy has apparently just started drawing comic strips to “brush up on [his] digital inking skills.” (Cough HUMBLEBRAG) Watch out, Pastis!

Edinboro needs cuisine. Badly.

This is the Sunset Grill at the Edinboro Lake Resort. As you can see, it does what it says on the tin.

Serves sammiches in baskets with chips. Which is fine, and the sammiches are good, but one would think the food could match the stellar ambiance. Still. I love this place.

The Crossroads Dinor has dropped the “Dinor” and seems to do everything it can to shy away from being a diner although it has the diner car. Oh to walk in there and be able to order an open faced roast beef sammich with fries flooded with gravy. But that ain’t on the menu.

No shit on a shingle for you.

And you don’t want these fries. The place prides itself on fresh-cut fries, but they don’t really know how to cook them.

My suspicion is that they’re circumventing the step of soaking the taters first to leech out some of the starch. These fries are rubbery and weird.

Get the applesauce instead.

The best meal out of the week so far has been at the Empty Keg. Burger. Steak fries, probably from Ore-Ida. Which were delicious.

And, where they served me a true Iron City beer:

Okay, it was a Sierra Nevada. But I have to wonder how many of these glasses walk out of the place under somebody’s jacket.

I said best meal “so far.” We have yet to enjoy my departure breakfast at Flip. That my friends is the finest food in town. Can’t wait.

(When Flip Cafe was opening, my then nearly 90-year-old Grandma DID A SOMERSAULT IN THE AIR in the middle of the sidewalk when we discovered it. She really did. I watched her do it. She jumped up in the air, kicked her legs around, and landed on her feet, and then she gave out this sort of guttural “WHOOP!” Because, you see, her Dad’s nickname all his life, or at least as long as I knew him, was “Flip.”

Okay, she didn’t really do that. But she sure was excited about that particular serendipity.)

The evening ended for some reason with me describing to my Mom and Grandma the famous incident on The Carol Burnett Show with Tim Conway and the elephant story. I can’t do it justice, so here, go see for yourself.

Thus, the title of this blog entry.

I’m sure I’m not done documenting my last summer trek to Lakeside of the year.

Gosh I need to moisturize.