Category: The Widder Curry

“Expresso Pizza – Ristorante Italiano”
1776 Sunset Cliffs Blvd., San Diego, CA 92107

For the past twenty years, my husband and I – when he was alive – housed foreign language students in the United States to learn to speak English. Over those twenty years, more than 360 have lived with us in an “immersion” program. Currently I have two students – one from Korea and one from Switzerland. I was very surprised with my Swiss student told me tonight that he had never had Italian food in a restaurant in the United States. So…since it was Wednesday night – Farmer’s Market Night – I thought we would try Expresso Pizza on Sunset Cliffs because I didn’t want to fight the traffic from patrons leaving the OB area.

The restaurant is really two parts: one to place orders to go and the second adjoining part a dining-in establishment. Our waitress welcomed us and told us that we could sit anywhere we wanted to sit. After being seated she asked us if we wanted to start with water and bread. We did.

When a good friend of mine – a gourmet chef that teaches several culinary classes in the San Diego area – asked me to join her for lunch the other day, I was delighted to accept. I met her at her house in North Park about 11:15am so that we were one of the first patron’s at the restaurant when it opened at 11:30am.

The restaurant could easily be missed if you did not know where you were going. The name is on a sign high above eye level; and the entrance is very unpretentious. Upon entering into a darkened room, with the hostess desk and the bar on the left, I was immediately struck with how long and narrow the room was, and it reminded me of many of the restaurants in San Francisco. There was an outside eating area on the right, but because it was overcast and damp we elected to eat indoors.

We were seated at the farthest seat at the back of the dining room, up against the wall that obviously housed the kitchen. (I say “obviously” because we could feel the vibrations from the kitchen on the wall nearest to where we were seated.) It was not distracting; we just knew it was there.

Thirty-two months on the 21^st of May my husband of 44 years passed away from Lung Cancer. He began smoking while still in high school, and before he stopped smoking 34 years later, he admitted to smoking three packs of cigarettes a day. I always wondered that if he admitted to smoking 3 packs a day, how many packs did he really smoke.

He would say that if he had known the evils of tobacco he probably would never had had that first puff. That’s what he would say, but is it the truth? Who knows?

He was a charming blue-eyed Irishman that frequently had a twinkle in his eye. He was a leader, not a follower, and I suspect that if he thought it was “cool” to smoke, he would have smoked. But there was no research like there is today; when he finally did stop smoking – 31 years BEFORE he died – he stopped because he finally believed what research was telling him. He thought that by quitting smoking, he was prolonging his life, and the cause of death would never be “lung cancer.”

What a fun place to eat with friends, the Raglan Public House – at the corner of Bacon and Niagara. The ambiance is inviting; the beers are numerous – I counted over 81 on the menu; the food is wonderful and the waitstaff – Josie and Alex – were delightful. Josie is really from New Zealand, and her charming accent only added to the atmosphere of the place. Alex, for the women in the audience, was nice to look at; has a mean handshake – like he was really glad we were there – and charming as well. (Yes, I know it is a sexist comment, but let’s face it – I enjoyed watching him.)

Do I need to write more? For those of you that criticized me on my last Ocean Beach venture, I hope that this redeems my taste buds and you no longer come after me with a forked tongue or steak knife.

A friend and I went for lunch at what was formerly “The Vine.” I remember the same restaurant when it was an Italian Restaurant and, like “The Vine” was sorry to see them both close down. I hope that this eclectic place remains in Ocean Beach for a long time.

Having just attended a pagan ritualistic ceremony uniting two very special people, I am now more inspired to find a soulmate of my own that is willing to bind our hands together for life. What I witnessed was very inspiring.

Those of you that have been following my saga of “on-line” dating are probably not aware that even though I stopped my “subscriptions”, there was no refund and so I have been getting “winks” for what seems to be months, on a regular basis.

And…I have enlarged my groupings. My name is now listed as wanting to find a “companion” on the following websites: “SeniorPeopleMeet”; “BB (the Big and Beautiful Network)”; “Match.com”; “EHarmony”; “Speed Dating”; “Zoosk” and “Chemistry.com”.

After all, I don’t want to leave this great experiment to small chances. Of course, I am finding that I am not the only person that has signed up with more than one on-line service. No… so are the many of the men whose names keep popping up on my computer screen. That would not be a problem if they used the same name, for, believe it or not, I have an “a-z” spreadsheet (s) of 11 pages. I kid you not! Not all of the slots on all of the pages are filled in, but I have attempted to make contact with 344 (!) men since I began keeping the spread sheets.

Over the past year or so that I have been writing for the OB Rag I have mentioned one or two of my grandchildren in the course of discussion. I have three beautiful daughters, and they have gifted me with 9 grandchildren and some of those have given me 4 great-grandchildren. Out of those children that are eligible for college, all of them are currently enrolled in the California Higher Education programs.

Last week I posted an article written by my oldest grandson, Josh, as to why he was proud to be an American, and why he feels somewhat “tarnished” today. I have always known that he was very bright, yet if you look at his past his actions sometimes belied that intelligence. I think it is fair to say that he is growing up, and the beautiful creative mind that has been stifled is being unleashed.

Josh has had a relationship with his girlfriend Cherie for close to seven years. When she came into their relationship she had a very young daughter and Josh treated her as if she was his. (I have to admit that for a time I wondered if she was his child. She wasn’t.) Two years after they got together they had a child together and people, including this grandmother, asked if they were going to get married. The answer was “no” and has continued to be “no”. But something happened last week that has Josh thinking – and writing – again.

I am always amazed that someone as young as me can have so many grandchildren to be proud of. At last count I have 9 grandchildren and 4 great grandchildren. I am proud of each of them for a variety of reasons.

Today, in talking to my oldest grandchild – Josh – I told him how much I missed his grandfather, particularly during this voting season. Bob was an activist and very involved in all political functions. Josh blew me away when he told me that, “Grandpa is living through me. I am doing what I know he would do, and am actively working on Obama’s reelection.”

He sent me an article that I would like to share with you, because Josh, at the age of 28, is becoming aware of the strength and failure of politicians today. In his own words:

When America made me proud.

Near the end of George W. Bush’s 2nd term I became a “Proud American”. I felt the passion that our ancestors must have felt when they learned of a country where their vote counted. People were talking politics everywhere, Republican and Democrat.

Life has been fairly dull for me the past few months – at least as it pertains to cultural events. I had a perfectly delightful evening Friday night when a friend – no, not that friend – and I went to the North Park Vaudeville and Candy Shoppe at 2031 El Cajon Blvd., in San Diego. My friend had read about this little – and I do mean little – theater where plays were being written by unknowns, directed by unknowns, and acted by unknowns. The purpose is to give “would be” playwrights an opportunity to see their play put into production.

Who would have thought that a mature babe like me would fall “head over heels in love” with a man much younger than me? A man, by most standards, that fits the ”tall, dark and handsome” description. A man that is polite; humorous, amorous, concerned about the welfare of people he knows, and would willingly do anything for someone that needed help.

He sounds ideal so what’s the problem? Simply put, he is not interested in me; not because of the age difference because that doesn’t seem to matter. Not because we are not compatible, because we have a great time together; not because our sex life is bad, because it is great, but because he has been burned before and is afraid it will happen again. He promised himself that he would never, ever, make another commitment to a woman, and he wants to stick to that promise. It became such an issue that he decided not to see me again. Ever. He felt that I was becoming too attached – I was – and he was afraid of that attachment. And, although he has sort of admitted it – he, too, was becoming attached.

Oh Boy! There are several new restaurants that have opened in Ocean Beach that I want to try. The first one I watched getting ready for opening day was quite a surprise. I thought it was going to be an extension of the Italian restaurant next door. Imagine my surprise – and I would venture to guess that many others were surprised also – when a “Northern Mediterranean” restaurant by the name of Kecho’s Cafe opened up at 1774 Sunset Cliffs Blvd. It is just a few steps away from the “Olive Tree Market”, and is owned by the same people.

It is very small, with limited seating in the front of the building and a long hallway opens into a patio where there is also limited seating. When we arrived at 5:15pm, there was a large party in the patio area, and only two tables available in the front part of the restaurant. We chose to eat in the patio.

Many months ago I wrote an article that caused a huge rift in my family; many responses from Rag readers to the point that we needed to shut down the article because of the intensity of the comments from the readers. Because I do not want to rekindle that discussion again, I am asking my daughter to read this article over before I sent it on to be published.

The first article spoke of a granddaughter of mine, age 15, that was going to be retained in her high school for not completing her assignments in any of her classes. As an educator myself, I was appalled to think that in today’s society a young student would be forced to repeat all the classes of a particular grade because work was not turned in. To make matters worse, my field of expertise was teaching teachers how to “Individualize the Curriculum” and how to teach to the needs of the student. I felt that this was not being done in the case of my granddaughter.

He’s sitting at the bar, nursing a drink when an attractive lady sits down next to him.
“Do you come here often?” she asks.
“No, this is my first time here.”
“Where have you been?”
“In prison.”
“Why? What did you do?”
“I killed my wife.”
“Oh! That means you’re single?”

After almost two months of on-line dating, my research is over. Although it was an interesting experience, it bore little, if any fruit, and was an expensive project. A little background:

I am a widow of almost three years. I am reasonably attractive – for an old broad -; have not yet begun to show that Alzheimer’s runs in my family; like to cook; like to read; like to write. Still physically active – walk my 11 year old Golden Retriever 1-2 miles a day; like the human touch and miss the hugs and comfort that a man can give me. I am a retired educator – public as well as governmental; have 3 grown daughters and a passel of grandchildren. With all that in mind, I signed up with 3 “on-line dating services” : “Senior People Meet”; “BB People Meet” – Big and Beautiful – and Match.com. I originally signed up for EHarmony.com, but it was too costly and I did not complete the application.