Author / Kelly Mattei

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Posts by Kelly Mattei

I grew up in Alabama but have lived in Charlotte, NC, for more than 25 years...longer than I've ever lived any other one place. Growing up, we moved a few times, so when people ask where I’m from, I just say Alabama, even though I have lived in three other states. I have been married for 25 years, and we have one daughter, who graduated from college and moved almost 600 miles north of us. We love being parents, but we also love empty-nesting. We enjoy traveling, star-gazing, walking, and sunshine. I worked in the travel business for 11 years, and I’m always looking for the next place to visit, but interestingly, I don’t like going where everyone else is going. If everyone else is going to Italy or Greece, no thanks. I’d rather go to Latin America or somewhere in the US I haven’t seen before. I’ve never liked doing what everyone else is doing! I have visited 40 states and would love to visit all 50. I also consider myself a “connector.” I like helping people know other people. No, not for money…for fun.
by Kelly Mattei

Cruisin’ The Highway With The 80s

I love Sirius XM Radio. And I especially love a channel called 80s on 8. It plays the music of my teenage years. Most of the time, when I’m in my car, I have a teenage daughter in the car with me, and she plays her music. Yeah…sometimes I pull rank and tell her she has to listen to my music in my car, but most of the time, I don’t care.

But when I’m in the car alone, it’s all 80s, all the time. Seriously…SiriusXM is one of my favorite things. If you don’t have Sirius XM Radio in your car or in your home, you’re missing out. You can see their website for more information here.

Last week, I drove to Duluth, Georgia, from Charlotte, NC, for a Harry Styles concert. Originally, my friend, Mary Ann, was taking her 8-yr-old daughter, but the daughter decided she had “outgrown” Harry Styles, so I went. I offered to purchase two extra tickets for my 14-yr-old daughter and a friend, but they didn’t want to go. (Now she wishes she had gone.)

That meant I got to drive to Duluth alone. It’s a 3 1/2 hour drive. I’m rarely alone for 3 1/2 hours. I left Charlotte around noon Monday. It took me about 20 minutes to get from my house to I-85 South, but when I hit the interstate, I was ready for some of my tunes…the tunes I never get to listen to in my own car.

I could say I listened calmly all the way to Georgia, but I’d be lying. I was so excited to get to listen to 80s music for a few hours. I pretended I was a teenager again. The songs on the 80s on 8 channel are introduced by the original MTV VJs, so it’s easy to feel like I’m reliving my youth. Nina Blackwood, Mark Goodman, and Alan Hunter introduced and gave me the background on songs on my whole drive. Martha Quinn chimed in every now and then with some trivia. I cranked up the tunes and opened the sunroof. In the first two hours, I was transported back in time with tunes from Loverboy, Van Halen, Rick Springfield, Madonna, Def Leppard, and J Geils Band, to name a few.

I’m sure a few truckers were entertained as this crazy 51-yr-old lady drove past with the radio blaring through the open sunroof. Maybe I shouldn’t mention I was singing along as much as I could. That means I was probably singing a lot of “misheard lyrics.” I’ve never been good with lyrics. I’m the person who, at the age of nine in 1976, thought the Eagles sang, “He was two-timing naked; she was too tired to fight about it,” in Life In The Fast Lane. How did a nine-yr-old come up with that?! The actual line is, “He was too tired to make it; she was too tired to fight about it.” Either way makes sense, though. Someone could have been two-timing naked.

There are some song lyrics I definitely know, but I’ve always had trouble with the lyrics to songs by the Gogos. Somehow, they just don’t enunciate clearly in their songs, so I end up making up a lot of lyrics…or humming along. I recently saw a book titled, “Hum If You Don’t Know The Words,” and I loved that title, because I do that a lot with songs. My daughter hates it.

But I knew the words to Lovin’ Every Minute of It (Loverboy), Material Girl (Madonna), Jesse’s Girl (Rick Springfield), Panama (Van Halen), and Love Stinks (J Geils Band), so I sang along, and I sang loudly.

When some of the songs came on, I laughed or smiled, because I remembered some story that went along with the song…something that had happened in high school or college. Any Duran Duran song makes me immediately think of my friend, Jill, from high school. The girl was obsessed with Duran Duran, and for good reason…they were an awesome band. Even my daughter and her friends like them now; in fact, tonight, one friend wanted to hear Union of the Snake while we were going to Target. Duran Duran videos were all the rage on MTV. I remember rushing home to watch the world premier of the video for The Reflex. Ooh…and Michael Jackson videos…we all went crazy over those too. Back in the 80s, Jill and I even had MTV t-shirts before everyone else. Her mother worked at the local cable company, and she had access to MTV paraphernalia when other people didn’t. I wore mine till it was threadbare. And don’t we all remember the slogan, “I want my MTV!” Lots of those t-shirts could be seen all over the US in the 80s.

 

Listening to those VJs also reminded me of how much I wanted to be a VJ when I was a teenager…a funny thought, because I have limited music knowledge. I guess I thought I’d grow up, get an audition, and once I got the gig, I’d meet every rock star who came through the MTV studios. You have to admit, though, it would have been fun. Of course, MTV already had a southern VJ, as Alan Hunter is from Birmingham. But Martha Quinn had it going on…boys wanted to date her, and girls wanted to be her. She seemed like a nice girl who could actually be your friend, and she had the coolest job ever.

As I arrived at the hotel, Milli Vanilli came on. The song? Baby, Don’t Forget My Number. I love that song. In fact, I loved Milli Vanilli. Yes, there was the scandal. I guess those two guys were just pretty faces, but I sure liked watching those pretty faces on the video. Sadly, Milli Vanilli fell apart after the lip-sync scandal broke. I have no idea who was actually singing on those songs, but I like Baby, Don’t Forget My Number; Blame It On The Rain; and Girl You Know It’s True. When I think of Milli Vanilli, I think of my friends, Chris and Susan, from college. I introduced them to each other, and they later married. They really liked Milli Vanilli.

So I got to Duluth safe and sound that afternoon and met Mary Ann at the hotel. We met my other friend, Meredith, and her daughter at the arena, and a good time was had by all. I knew a few of the songs Harry Styles sang, and I faked it on the others. I have to admit it was a good show. It was pretty tame, aside from the screaming, but he is quite the entertainer, and he seems to enjoy what he’s doing. He was also grateful to the fans. I like performers who seem genuinely grateful. Plus, he’s kind of dreamy looking, even if I am old enough to be his mother.

 

After the concert, Mary Ann and I tried to go to Waffle House, but it was too crowded. We ended up, instead, at a place called Georgia Diner on Pleasant Hill Road. We weren’t expecting much, but we were pleasantly surprised. The service was outstanding, and the servers were very personable. The food was really good…Mary Ann had an omelet, and I had the Ste. Marie Chicken…delicious. I strolled over to look in the dessert case, and the cakes looked incredible, but swimsuit season is here, so I didn’t get any cake. You can see their website and menu here.

We went back to the hotel and slept a few hours before I headed back to Charlotte. It was time for some 80s tunes again, and I loved every minute of it. If only they had played some Bobby Brown; then, my 80s journey would have been complete for the day. And maybe some New Kids On The Block. I liked them too, back in the day, even though I was really too old to like them.

The 80s were a great decade. MTV actually played music. We made mix-tapes. We passed notes in class. The Rubix Cube came along. Arcades were awesome gathering places. John Hughes films echoed the lives of teens everywhere.

My daughter said to me the other day, “I wish I had lived in the 80s.” I told her it was certainly a great decade, but then said, “But you are living in a great time. We didn’t have cellphones or laptops back then, and you couldn’t rewind TV shows with the DVR. If you missed a line, you just missed it.” She nodded, but I could tell she still thought the 80s were great.

This decade is great too, but still…I WANT MY MTV!

by Kelly Mattei

Remembering Daddy

With Father’s Day approaching, I’m thinking about Daddy. His grandchildren called him Big Ken. He has been gone now for 12 years. Pancreatic cancer. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

We will order new flowers for my parents’ gravesite. I’m not big on visiting cemeteries. Never have been. Daddy was a good cemetery visitor. I don’t know if it made him feel closer to his parents, or if he did it as a sense of duty, but he was good about visiting cemeteries. My brother is good about it too.

It’s not that our family ever made a big deal about Father’s Day. My parents always said they should give us (children) gifts at Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. They didn’t give us gifts, but it was their way of saying they were happy to be our parents.

If Daddy were here now, he’d say the same thing again.

But he’s not here. I’ve said before Daddy was funny and charming. He could also read people very well. When we were in a group somewhere, he knew if someone looked uncomfortable, and he would try to bring them into the fold. He was good like that.

I got my love of sports from my parents. My daddy liked all kinds of competition, and he always believed second place was just the first loser. We spent a lot of time watching sports on television, and it wasn’t unusual for us to attend sporting events whether we knew participants or not. When I was a little girl, we would go to minor league baseball games, high school indoor track meets, football games…any sporting events. There were even times we would be driving down the road, and he would see information about a sporting event…and of course, we went. I sat outside at a lot of hot baseball games in Alabama.

I really think basketball was his favorite, though. He was tall, and he had played basketball in high school. He understood the game, and he loved watching college basketball. I don’t remember watching a lot of professional basketball, but we watched a lot of college games on television. In a state devoted to football, my daddy loved NCAA Tournament time.

We also watched a lot of Atlanta Braves games and Chicago Cubs games. WTBS, also known as Superstation TBS, at the time was owned by Ted Turner, who also owned the Braves, so they broadcast their games. In fact, we knew a lot about the players, coaches, the announcer, and the team, because they were on television all the time.  While I enjoy baseball, as a teen, I mostly enjoyed looking at some of the cute players. When the Braves played the Dodgers, I tuned in to watch Steve Sax, who was quite the looker, but Daddy thought he was a terrible second baseman. He might even be the player about whom Daddy once said, “He has messed up second base so badly that no one will ever be able to play it.” Cubs games were broadcast on WGN, so we knew all the Cubs too. This was before Wrigley Field had lights, so all their games were day games. Often, there would be a Cubs game on our TV in the afternoon, followed by a Braves game in the evening.Good times. Daddy loved it. Our summer is all planned out, but next year, I’m taking my daughter to a Braves or Cubs game.

Daddy also loved wordplay and trivia. He was a walking wealth of useless knowledge like me and my brother. We know all kinds of stuff that doesn’t matter one bit, till someone asks a question like, “On The Andy Griffith Show, who took care of Opie before Aunt Bee moved in?” The answer there is Rose. All that trivial knowledge comes in handy sometimes, though…I’ve bonded with lots of good folks over trivial information.

In the early days of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, when Regis Philbin hosted it, Daddy and I loved watching it when I visited. We were watching together when the first big winner answered the winning question: Which of these US Presidents appeared on the television series “Laugh-In”? The answer, of course, was Nixon, and Daddy and I both knew it…because, well…useless trivial knowledge.

There was always a dictionary around, because we loved talking about words. I remember quizzing each other on the meanings of prefixes, suffixes, and root words when I was growing up. We were weird, but honestly, that silly game we played probably helped me on standardized tests.

Daddy was a good storyteller too. We loved hearing stories of his childhood, because he was born in the 1930s, and the world made some huge leaps in technology and everyday life between the 1930s and the 2000s. He grew up in the Florida panhandle, a rural area, so his childhood had been very different from ours. He told stories of telephone numbers that started with community names…like “Greenwood 368,” and having to ask the operator to connect them instad of dialing the number.

And there were always stories of “ice cream on a stick,” Eskimo Pie to you and me. When he was a little boy, you could buy “ice cream on a stick” for a nickel at the local store. Often, Daddy didn’t have a nickel, so he was out of luck. As an adult, any time he found a nickel on the ground, he would comment on how that would have bought an ice cream on a stick when he was a child. He remembered where he came from. Therefore, when his grandchildren visited, he always shared ice cream on a stick or popsicles with them. It would have brought him great joy as a child to have it, and as an adult, it brought him great joy to watch his grandchildren enjoy it.

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At some point in his youth…I’m not sure of the age…maybe in high school…he worked at a full-service gas station, so he made sure I knew to tip the attendants when I stopped at one. He also made sure I knew about cars…how to check the oil, tire pressure, water levels, and how to correct all that if needed.

When I lived near my parents, I tried to visit them every Sunday evening. We would have dinner, and before I would go back to Mobile, Daddy would have to check my car. Interestingly, he seemed to always wait till I was walking out the door to leave. He would grab his tire gauge and a paper towel and walk out to my car. He had to check the tire pressure, and he always had to check the oil and water levels. Back then, I would get aggravated that he was slowing down my departure. I would wonder aloud to Mother, “Why does he always wait till I’m ready to go?” Now, though, I look at it differently. He was in no hurry to see me drive away. I smile thinking about it now.

And before I drove away, he always made sure to take my hand and press some money into it. Sometimes it was a $20 bill…sometimes more, but he always wanted to make sure I had “WAM”…walking around money. He continued that tradition with my nephews as well, and when they were really little, they knew he always had toys in the trunk of his car. Of course, Mother had helped him pick them out, but Big Ken got all the credit. He found so much joy in seeing them run to the trunk of the car, and then watching their little faces light up.

I also smile thinking about how he would love that I am growing tomatoes this year. He loved a tomato sandwich as much as anybody does. There are quite a few on my tomato plants now…they should ripen next month, “good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise.” And if I get the opportunity to cut a giant red tomato off the vine, when I cut into it, I will think of my daddy and smile.

My daughter would have enjoyed being around my daddy. He died just before her third birthday, so she doesn’t really remember him. She was crazy about him, and he was crazy about her. He always had a way with kids. My nephews were eight years old when we lost Daddy, and they were heartbroken when he passed. In his retirement, he had loved spending time with them…scavenger hunts, dinners, playing baseball in the yard…good times.img_7188

If he were here now, he’d be proud of all of them…and he’d be proud my brother and I look out for each other.

We miss him, and we will honor his memory this Father’s Day. I’m going out to buy a box of Eskimo Pies, and we will all sit out on the patio Sunday afternoon and enjoy our “ice cream on a stick” in memory of Big Ken.

by Kelly Mattei

Trying To Get Out The Door

My 14-year-old daughter is preparing to go to lacrosse team camp for the weekend. She is excited about it and has been looking forward to it for a couple weeks. But she still can’t get packed.

I know I’m not alone. I can’t possibly be the only parent who has a fantastic teenage daughter who just can’t do things (like getting packed for camp) in advance. My daughter has some friends who are planners. One of them went to a soccer camp with my daughter at The University of Alabama a few years ago, and honestly, she is more organized than most adults.

So here I sit in the living room of our home, waiting for her to pack for a weekend camp. It’s only two nights, thankfully, but I’m not packing any of it for her. She has to do it. We have to leave in a few hours, and she wants to go to the pool before we leave, so I’m hoping she is motivated to get this task done. We made a stop yesterday to get some things she needed from Lacrosse Unlimited in the Arboretum. If you have a child who plays lacrosse and have never been to this store, you need to know about it. They have saved me more than once since she started playing lacrosse. For info, click here.

In less than three weeks, she will be going to Iceland for a two-week trip with a teenage tour group. I’m so excited for her. I also look at all the gear and wonder how she will fit it all into the 60-liter bag she has to carry it in. I have a feeling I will be helping her pack for that one. The gear, right now, is in three shopping bags. I took her to Jesse Brown’s Outdoors earlier in the week and tried to purchase absolutely everything on the list in one trip. Thankfully, the employees there were very knowledgeable and very helpful. If you live in Charlotte and have a teenager who will need gear for a summer trip, I highly recommend visiting Jesse Brown’s Outdoors in Sharon Corners. For info, see their website here.

If you’re like me, it’s very difficult to sit and wait for your teenager to get things done. Truly, I had to stop getting up with her before school, because her tardiness stressed me out so badly that I then, in turn, stressed her out. It was not a good way for either of us to start the day. Now, my husband wakes her up. She gets dressed at her own pace, and he drives her to school. Before she leaves, she comes in and gives me a quick kiss before walking out the door. When my husband gets home, he brings me a cup of coffee, and everybody is happy. More often than not, when I’m volunteering at school, I see my daughter at lunch, and I always bring her home. Don’t judge me for not getting up in the mornings…trust me, it’s better this way.

As for getting to other events, as long as she isn’t going to inconvenience someone else, I now let her do things at her own pace, and I try to just stay away from her during the process. For a kid who can run a lot in a lacrosse or field hockey game, she sure takes her time getting ready to go places.

I’m the type of person who must get to the airport about two hours before my flight. I don’t do it because the airline suggests it. I do it, because it makes my life easier. I like to get there, clear security, and relax in the airport lounge or gate area. There is nothing worse, to me, than being in a hurry at the airport.

Years ago, I traveled with a friend who couldn’t be on time for anything. Arriving at the airport twenty minutes before takeoff was ideal for my friend, but not for me. It was always a bad way to start a trip. We started taking separate cars to the airport if we were traveling together. That way, I could get there early enough for my comfort.

My husband goes along with me on it, because he knows it is a big stressor for me. Why create stress when there doesn’t have to be any?

For most of our daughter’s sporting events, we take separate cars, though, because he doesn’t feel the need to be there as early as I do. It’s just who I am.

But now I will confess something. I wasn’t always this way. When I was a teenager and in college, I was known for being the last one ready. (Here is where I should apologize to my friends and family.) It drove my parents crazy, because they believed that if you weren’t early, you were late. Fortunately, as I got older, I realized I was causing myself added stress that wasn’t necessary, and I started padding my schedule with extra time to get places. Life got easier.

Therefore, I guess there is hope for my daughter. At some point in her life, she will realize life is easier if she plans appropriately. And I don’t mean plan out every minute. Just plan to be ready on time. Likely she will learn a lot about it on the Iceland trip, when she has to be ready to move to the next destination with the group. Let’s just hope she brings that lesson home with her.

by Kelly Mattei

Am I Too Old For This?

It’s not often that I think I’m too old for something. Most of the time, I still think I’m young. I’m game for most fun stuff. I’ll ride any rollercoaster, go down any waterslide, climb a waterfall, do a canopy tour in a rainforest. And then I listen to my daughter’s music.

It happens with every generation. We all think we’re cool and have the best taste in music…till we have teenagers. Then, our teenagers let us know just how uncool we are. My daughter loves Post Malone and Kendrick Lamar, among others. In fact, when Kendrick Lamar was performing for the NCAA National Championship football game halftime show, my daughter saw it on TV and said, “I wish we were there.” He was performing in Centennial Olympic Park instead of inside the Mercedes Benz Dome. I said “He’s not even inside the stadium. I’m glad I’m not there.” She responded, “You have no idea who he is.” She’s right, and I’m OK with that.

This week, I’m going to a concert with my friend, Mary Ann. Even though she’s over 40, she has a mad crush on Harry Styles, so for her birthday, I gave her two tickets to see him perform in Atlanta. Originally, she was going to take her eight-yr-old daughter, saying the daughter wanted to see him. Yeah, right. The daughter has since decided she has “outgrown” Harry Styles, and Mary Ann still wants to go, so I volunteered to go with her. We will have fun, but I guess I should listen to some of his music on the drive down to Atlanta. Really, I’m too old for this. I think Mary Ann just wants me to get her backstage to hang out with Harry, and with my mad skills, it could happen. Kidding! I’m an old lady…old enough to be his mother. But I’m going to the concert, and we are going to have fun.

I love a good concert, but most of my friends know there aren’t many performers I’m actually willing to pay to see. I paid to see Prince in 1997 in Mobile, and my husband and I had great seats to the Eagles a few years ago…when Glenn Frey was still alive. We also had great seats to Sade, and John Legend opened…quite a show. I’ve taken my daughter and friends to Selena Gomez, Miranda Cosgrove, and Ariana Grande, and my daughter and I even saw One Direction open for Big Time Rush a few years ago in Durham, North Carolina. We had no idea who they were at the time, but we watched them from our front row seats, and then, they were on Saturday Night Live a couple weeks later.

The last concert I attended was in Charlotte last summer. I went to see New Kids on the Block, Boys to Men, and Paula Abdul…with Mary Ann…I think I see a theme here. When the New Kids were popular the first time, I was way too old to like them, but my friend, Angela, and I liked them anyway. We were in college. Most of their fans were tweens, but we secretly loved them. We would drive around in my car playing the New Kids cassette, but only when no one else was in the car. Mary Ann, on the other hand, was the right age for loving the New Kids, and her daddy got her front row seats.

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Mary Ann and I in our souvenir t-shirts at the New Kids on the Block concert, Charlotte, July 2017

I’ve never been invited backstage at a concert, but I have friends who have. One even went on the road with Poison in the 80s, and I have other friends who know some “rock stars.”

I did meet the GooGoo Dolls one time in Charlotte. My friend Lisa, and I went out for dinner at The Palm. This was probably 2002 or 2003. We were waiting in the bar for our table when she said, “That’s Johnny Rzeznik!” I turned around to look, and indeed, it was. In fact, it was all the members of the Goo Goo Dolls coming in for dinner. Lisa was a big fan. Lucky for her (and me too!), we were seated right next to them. I only knew them because my husband liked their music. Lisa knew their music, so once we were seated, she turned around and said something to one of them, and before I knew it, we were sitting with them. I called my husband from my flip phone (no camera!) and told him to come down there, but he refused. It was a memorable night. We had dinner and dessert. I was the designated driver, so I got us both home safely.

The Goo Goo Dolls are closer to my generation, but I’m still older than most of their fans, I think.

Two years ago, I was flying back from Los Angeles with my daughter. I got up to go to the bathroom, and on my way back to my seat, 2D, I saw Frankie Valli in 3C…one row back from me and across the aisle. I’m sure my eyes got big as saucers, but no one seemed to notice. In fact, no one seemed to notice it was Frankie Valli! I recognized him immediately. He was part of the soundtrack of my childhood!

I quickly sat down next to my then-12-yr-old daughter and said, “You won’t believe this! Frankie Valli is behind us!” Her response? “Who?” I went through some of his songs…My Eyes Adored You…Sherry…Can’t Take My Eyes Off You…Working My Way Back to You…Grease. We had a winner with Grease. She knew that one, but she still had no idea who he was. I explained to her Jersey Boys is about his life! He is a living legend! She was too young to appreciate it, just like I’m too old to appreciate Kendrick Lamar.

Now, if he had been in a window seat, I’d have left him alone, but I hated to pass up the opportunity to meet a living legend. Since he was on the aisle, I just turned around and quietly asked if I could come back and speak with him. He said yes! So, I squatted on the floor next to his seat and talked with him briefly about his music…and how my mother’s name was Sherry. I have no idea what was said between the two of us, because I had helicopters in my head. I ended our brief conversation by asking if I could get a photo with him, and he obliged. He was very sweet…and still quite dapper at 82 (he’s 84 now). In fact, he’s still performing regularly…and doing it very well! He was on his way to Savannah for a performance that day. I’d pay to see him perform…definitely.

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It’s a blurry selfie…but he was sweet to let me take a pic.

Later, when I went back to the bathroom, I stuck my head in the galley and said to the 25-yr-old flight attendant, “You know that’s Frankie Valli in 3C, right?” She looked like I had 14 eyes and said, “The agent said he was somebody famous, but I don’t know him.” Again, I went through his songs. Heck even my 12-yr-old was more knowledgeable than she was. She just gave me a blank stare. So I ended with, “Well, the man is a living legend. You take good care of him. And when the plane lands, you call your mom and tell her you had Frankie Valli on your flight, and she will know who he is, and she will be excited.” Ahhh…the ignorance of youth. To see one of my favorite Frankie Valli videos, click here.

So, when I’m at the Harry Styles concert, I will pretend I’m 21 again and live in the moment. Mary Ann and I won’t get invited backstage…unless he’s looking for a mother figure to darn his socks or do his laundry.

I’m getting too old for this.

by Kelly Mattei

Rookie Gardener

I’ve said before that I am no gardener. A few years ago, I had some pretty good luck with gardening in my backyard, but then I developed a fear of snakes and became afraid. Every time I thought about sticking my hands into or near the dirt, I was terrified I would pick up a copperhead.

In Mecklenburg County, the only venomous snake species we have is the copperhead, but it seems there are lots of them. Growing up in Alabama, we had six species of venomous snakes, including three different types of rattlesnakes, which are highly dangerous to humans. I’ve seen more than my fair share of rattlesnakes and copperheads. In fact, I came dangerously close to stepping on a big diamondback rattlesnake when I was 18. To learn more about the venomous snakes of Alabama, including the copperhead, click here. Be forewarned: just like Jaws made us all afraid to go back into the water, seeing the pictures of these snakes may make you afraid to go back outside altogether.

Back to gardening. For years, I did nothing, till this year, and I’m not doing a lot, but I am doing a little. I have more than one inspiration. I want to have some sunflowers in memory of my parents this summer, and posts by my friend, Michelle, owner of Corner Copia Gardens and Gifts in Fairhope, Alabama, would make anyone want to try their hand at gardening. To see her Facebook page for inspiration, click here.

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Photo from Corner Copia Gardens in Fairhope, Alabama

While I want sunflowers in my backyard, I’m not planting any other types of flowers. We have some beautiful knockout roses that continue to bloom, so I don’t feel like I need to add much to those. I’m adding a few vegetables.

One thing I’ve always loved is a good homegrown vine-ripened tomato. When my friend, Wendy, lived here in Charlotte, she had a neighbor who grew some of the best tomatoes I’ve ever had in my life. And I’ve had a lot of tomatoes. Growing up, I didn’t care for tomatoes. I think a lot of kids are turned off by the slightly acidic taste of tomatoes. When I was in college, I went to the lake with a friend, and her mother had some homegrown tomatoes for us. Not wanting to be rude, I ate the slices she gave me, and I never looked back.

If you are a tomato person, you know store-bought tomatoes are deceiving. Every year, I make the mistake of picking up some beautiful tomatoes in the grocery store with hopes they are as beautiful on the inside as they are on the outside. Then, I get home and slice into them, only to find they are hard and ugly on the inside. A good, homegrown tomato is just as red on the inside as it is on the outside.

Throughout my life, I had seen my daddy eat tomato sandwiches. He loved a good tomato sandwich, and apparently, my mother knew the perfect way to make them. It’s not difficult, but if you don’t make them just right, you can mess them up. My daddy liked his tomatoes peeled. Weird, I know, but that’s what he liked. Sometimes, I peel mine too. But the main thing is to use white bread…not whole wheat, not whole grain, not pumpernickel or rye…white bread. On the white bread slices, slather your favorite mayonnaise. Daddy preferred Hellman’s, but I prefer Duke’s. Yes, you can use the reduced fat versions, but because good tomatoes are hard to find, I don’t want to mess them up with the reduced fat stuff. Add tomato slices to the mayo-slathered bread and top it with a little salt and pepper to taste. I can almost taste it now. ***It’s difficult to find Duke’s Mayonnaise in some parts of the country. If you’ve never had it, you should try it. You can order it from Amazon here.***

Obviously, I’m trying to grow my own tomatoes this summer. My husband and I picked up a few small plants, and he put them in the ground. We purchased Bonnie Plants brand Big Boy tomato plants and Better Boy tomato plants at a local store. To see the Bonnie Plants website for tomato information, click here. It’s not too late to do your own. I’ve been tending ours. That means I’ve been calling my brother to get tips on growing good tomatoes. I’ve also been checking online for information. So far, I haven’t killed them yet, and we even have a few small tomatoes showing up on our plants. I looked online to see how long it takes tomatoes to ripen on the vine, and on average, for the types we are growing, it takes about 75 days after germination. That seems like a long time. I’m counting down the days and hoping I don’t kill them before then.

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I’ve also planted a few other vegetables. We’ll see how that works out before I go into any detail.

My friend, Leah, in memory of my parents, gave me a Sunflower Grow Kit earlier this year, and I was so excited to get that started, and so far, they’re growing! The kit included potting soil, seeds, plant food, and a bag in which to grow them. You can see various grow kits here. I also planted some Burpee brand sunflower seeds, which you can find at your local home stores. I purchased mine at Home Depot, but they have them in Lowe’s too. If you live in or near Wetumpka, Alabama, you can visit the Lowe’s there and see my handsome nephew, Brennen.

My sunflowers have been a little slow-growing, but in the past few days they seem to be getting some traction. I have hope. Sunflowers aren’t difficult to grow, and I had huge success with them 16 years ago, growing some of the biggest, most beautiful sunflowers I’ve ever seen. I planted mine a little later than before, but with sunflowers, I think that’s OK.

For planting this year, since I still haven’t overcome my fear of snakes, I wore gardening gloves and used a gardening trowel. I don’t know how much protection that offers from snakes, but it made me feel better. I found myself scanning all around me while I dug, though. I won’t even walk out onto the patio without checking out the steps before opening the back door.

As the summer progresses, I’ll keep you posted on my gardening. Hoping for tall sunflowers with big heads and some juicy tomatoes soon.

Go play in the dirt!

***If you enjoy Kelly Mattei’s Favorite Things, please invite friends to like the facebook page.***

 

 

 

 

 

by Kelly Mattei

Wings & Things

When I was in college at The University of Alabama, way back in the 1980s, I fell in love. While I enjoyed dating, I was introduced to something I’d never had before…Buffalo wings, and it was love at first bite.

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I don’t remember hearing about Buffalo wings when I was growing up, but then I didn’t spend a lot of time in the Buffalo, New York, area. In fact, I never went to Buffalo till I was an adult.

So, when I started college, I’d never heard of the spicy chicken wing. I learned about it soon after I arrived, though, and I never looked back. How could I have been missing out on that wonderful flavor my whole life?

According to the website for the Anchor Bar in Buffalo, New York, the original Buffalo wing was served at their restaurant in 1964. The website says, “On March 4th, 1964, Dominic Bellissimo was tending bar at the now-famous Anchor Bar Restaurant in Buffalo, NY. Late that evening, a group of Dominic’s friends arrived at the bar with ravenous appetites. Dominic asked his mother, Teressa, to prepare something for his friends to eat. They looked like chicken wings, a part of the chicken that usually went into the stock pot for soup. Teressa had deep fried the wings and flavored them with a secret sauce. The wings were an instant hit and it didn’t take long for people to flock to the bar to experience their new taste sensation. From that evening on, Buffalo Wings became a regular part of the menu at the Anchor Bar.” You can order online from Anchor Bar, and they will ship Buffalo Wings to you anywhere in the United States. Click here to order.

Too bad I didn’t hear about them till 1985! Or maybe it’s better I didn’t hear about them before. I had a full appreciation for them in 1985. At 18, I knew good flavor, but if I’d had them at 13, I might not have recognized the greatness of them.

So, the first place I had Buffalo wings was far from Buffalo, NY. The first wings I had came from a little place on The Strip (a few blocks along University Blvd) called Wings & Things.

By my junior year, ordering delivery from Wing & Things had become a Sunday night ritual for me and my friend, Angela. Every Sunday night of our junior and senior years of college, Angela and I ordered the same things. I had the mild wings, extra wet, with hot sauce on the side, extra bleu cheese, and curly fries. Angela had the hot wings, extra wet, with hot sauce on the side, extra bleu cheese, and curly fries. We didn’t even have to discuss our orders.

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We would decide what time to order, and one of us would pick up the phone, a landline since it was pre-cellphone days, and call Wings & Things…a number we didn’t even have to look up. We even knew what our total would be. When it arrived, we would run downstairs, pay the delivery guy, grab the boxes, and hurry back upstairs to Angela’s room to enjoy our wings. Why the rush? Well, if anyone else on the hall saw us with wings, they would want one or two, and as far as we were concerned, wings were “no-share items.”

We always locked the door and sat in the floor to enjoy our wings.

Even with all the rush, the wings were aromatic, so after a few minutes, we would hear someone in the hall, saying, “Who has wings?!” We would look at each other, wide-eyed, and giggle silently, but we never answered. People would even knock on the door, and we would pretend we weren’t there…sitting silently, enjoying our wings. Because we ordered them “extra wet,” we always wore old clothes we didn’t care about, because we knew that orange-colored “wing juice” would drip and run all down our arms while we ate.

After we’d had our fill of wings, there were usually a few left. We had a ritual for that, too. One of us would pick up the landline phone again and call our friends, Lisa and Angie, down the hall, saying, “We have leftover wings. Want them?” In about two seconds flat, we’d hear footsteps coming down the hall. We would unlock the door and hand them the styrofoam boxes containing a few wings, and they would run back to their room and lock the door to enjoy the leftover wings.

Ahhh…the memories. In 1992, Wings & Things became Buffalo Phil’s in Tuscaloosa, so you can still get them if you visit. Since then, I’ve actually had wings in Buffalo, New York. I don’t know if they were from Anchor Bar or not. I was working as a flight attendant right after college graduation, and on a quick turnaround flight to Buffalo, the captain called ahead and ordered Buffalo wings to be brought to us on the plane between flights. I’m not gonna lie. They were good. They were darn good. I see there is an Anchor Bar in the Buffalo Airport, so maybe they were from Anchor Bar. I need to place an online order and try them again!

Now, whenever Angela and I get together, we almost always have wings. Since the 1980s, places that serve wings have popped up all over the country. I almost always order them the same way I ordered them in the 1980s, but Angela varies her order a little. Sometimes she’ll get different flavors, depending on where we are, but we still love our wings.

I guess when we’re old and living in the same senior living facility (my husband will be there too), we’ll have the same Sunday night wing tradition. For now, though, Angela lives in Montgomery, Alabama, and I live in Charlotte. We have favorite wing places in and around both places, so we’ll be OK. I don’t think any of the places deliver, so I’m hoping UberEats or Postmates will still be delivering food.

Eat more wings.

Here are some of our other favorite places for wings:

CharBar 7 in North Carolina (see website here)

Coaches Corner in Wetumpka, Alabama (Their “chicken chunks” in Buffalo sauce are good too. See facebook page here.)

Hickory Tavern with various locations in NC and Alabama (see website here)

Hubee Ds with a location in Charlotte and one in SC (see website here)

 

 

 

 

 

by Kelly Mattei

The Bad News Bears Were Our Babysitters

Earlier this week, someone posted a video clip on Facebook. It was a clip from The Bad News Bears, a movie that was released in 1976. And oh, how that one short clip took me back in time. Not familiar with the movie? You can see the trailer here.

When I was a little girl between the ages of seven and ten, the movie theater was my babysitter. Many Saturday nights, our parents would drop off me and my younger brother at the local movie theater. Sometimes it was even a double feature. The local theater was a Mom and Pop operation with one screen. No megaplex. Just one screen, and they showed first run movies, usually a different one every week. The only one I remember showing for two weeks was Jaws in 1975, and yes, I was eight, and my brother was six when we saw it.

Our parents never did any “pre-screening” of any of the movies. As long as it wasn’t rated R, we went, and we loved Saturday nights at the movies!

In 1975, our favorite movie was Jaws, and our favorite in 1977 was Smokey and the Bandit, which was released on my tenth birthday…both rated PG, and both inappropriate by today’s standards. I saw Smokey and the Bandit again last year, and there is no way that movie could even be made today.

Between those great movies, there was The Bad News Bears, released in 1976. It was rated PG, and every kid wanted to see it. IMDb.com sums it up saying, “An aging, down-on-his-luck ex-minor leaguer coaches a team of misfits in an ultra-competitive California little league.” It starred Walter Matthau as the coach and Tatum O’Neal as Amanda, an 11-year old girl with mad pitching skills. The movie’s language is bad; it’s completely and utterly politically incorrect, and the coach is a drunk, but the team of misfits pulls together. If it were released today, lots of parents would freak out at the political incorrectness, language and mature content. Heck, there might even be an uproar, but it was a great movie from my childhood. I don’t remember anybody’s parents making a big deal about it. Back then, there wasn’t a PG-13 rating, so everything that wasn’t G or R fell into the middle category, PG. This movie would have been a PG-13 by today’s standards. We loved The Bad News Bears.

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Yet somehow, The Bad News Bears stands the test of time. There are lots of movies that just aren’t as good 40 years after they’re made, but this one is just as funny and heartwarming to me now as it was in 1976, because despite the political incorrectness, it’s a story of people coming together. I’m not sure how many times I’ve seen it over the years. I purchased the DVD a couple years ago and watched it with my daughter. Sure the language was inappropriate, but the rest of it…the beer cans, drunk Buttermaker (Walter Matthau’s coach character), the drinking/smoking/motorcycle riding guy named Kelly Leak who would become a part of the team…well, my daughter was as surprised as I was when I watched it in 1976, but she liked the movie. And Tatum O’Neal was so darn cute. The movie stands the test of time, though, because it wasn’t a glossed-over, Leave It To Beaver version of childhood. Somebody, somewhere was actually living that childhood.

While lots of people would think The Bad News Bears is a terrible movie for kids now, people didn’t worry so much about stuff like that in 1976. Heck, we could ride our bikes all over the neighborhood, as long as we were home when the streetlights came on. My parents were buying themselves some date time by dropping us at the movies, but we were also getting an education. The Bad News Bears is set in Southern California, a place I’d never visited at the time. It was about a little league baseball team of misfits that was sponsored by none other than Chico’s Bail Bonds. While those of us who lived in South Alabama could relate to a baseball league, I didn’t know anyone like Amanda (Tatum O’Neal’s character), who sat on the side of the road selling maps to stars’ homes. That seemed fun and exciting to me. Add in the fact that she was a female, 11-yr-old, pitching dynamo, and I thought she was awesome. She was still feminine, yet that team of boys needed her. There was a lesson of “girls can do anything boys can do” in there, and there was a big message about teamwork and friendship.

When I was a kid, we all talked about the characters and even had favorites. If I said something about Tanner from The Bad News Bears to someone my age today, most people would immediately know who that is. Same with Kelly Leak…someone my age would likely say, “smoking, motorcycle rider from The Bad News Bears.” Say the name Buttermaker today, and everybody my age knows who that is. I just tested that on my brother. I texted him and asked, “If I say the name Buttermaker, do you know who that is?” He immediately texted back, “Bad News Bears.” And any time one of us hears Bizet’s Carmen Overture, we think of The Bad News Bears, because an adaptation of it was used as the theme song.

So, while lots of parents would never watch The Bad News Bears with their children, I allowed my child to watch it, inappropriate or not. Truthfully, I had forgotten how terrible the language was, but we watched it anyway. Language aside, maybe she saw a glimpse of life outside her bubble. Sure, some of the characters were over the top, but the overall theme and message in the movie was a good one. I mean, really…who can forget the scene near the end of the movie where Tanner tells the Yankees, who have just defeated the Bears in the championship, what they can do with their apology and their trophy? And little, mousy Lupus tells them, “And another thing! Just wait till next year!”…as he pours a beer over his teammate’s head.

The Bad News Bears was well-received by audiences and critics when it was released, even winning a Writer’s Guild of America Award.

I never dropped our daughter at the theater when she was younger than 12. Times have changed since the 70s. Kids aren’t as free-ranging as they used to be. Now that she’s a teenager, she meets friends at movies occasionally. They check movie times on their phones and purchase their tickets in advance online. At some theaters, they reserve their seats in advance. I wish we could have done that in the 1970s. And I wish we’d had those big, reclining seats too.

Back then, we had to call a pre-recorded message line (from our landline phones!) to hear the title and movie times. It was along the lines of, “Thank you for calling the Eastern Shore Cinema. Today is June 1st. Our movie this week is Jaws. Showtimes are 4:00, 7:00 and 9:30. Admission is $1 for children under 12 and $2 for adults. Thank you again for calling the Eastern Shore Cinema.” Here’s how often we called that theater line…I still remember the telephone number…more than 40 years later. And the floors were sticky. Everyone drank sodas back then, and there were no cupholders at the seats, so when they spilled, the soda would run down the sloped floor of the theater, making a long, sticky, soda line. Y’all remember…

So, cheers to The Bad News Bears and all those great 70s movies that could never be made in 2018. They were great babysitters, and they were educators too. They don’t make ’em like they used to. We learned a lot about life from those “inappropriate” movies, and we haven’t become ax murderers…shocking, I know.

Wish my little brother and I could share a beer with Buttermaker.

***To see a clip of one of the best scenes from the movie, click here.***

***Want to see some of the oldies but goodies mentioned in this blog? Amazon Prime has lots of them! Go to Amazon here and in the search box, enter the name of the movie you’d like to see.***

by Kelly Mattei

School’s (Almost) Out For Summer!

Ahhh…summertime! It’s what kids live for…freedom, sunshine, swimming pools, beaches, friends, vacation!

And it’s what I live for too. Well, I don’t actually live for it, but I look forward to it every year. I start counting down the days till summer as soon as spring break is over. Between sports practices and camps for my daughter, her upcoming trip to Iceland, and a couple of vacations, summer is all planned…and I can hardly wait to get started!

This year, my daughter’s last day of school…last day of middle school, in fact…is June 1, and frankly, it can’t get here fast enough. Bring…it…on!

The first order of business at my house this summer is Driver’s Education! Woohoo! For the whole first week of summer, my daughter will be in Driver’s Ed with several of her closest friends. At her school, it’s not like it was when I was in school. Back in the day, our school owned a Driver’s Ed car, and there were designated teachers who actually taught the Driver’s Ed course. In tenth grade, each student took one semester of Driver’s Ed and one semester of Health. We even had driving simulators. I don’t even know if they exist anymore. Nothing about those simulators seemed realistic, but they were fun. I’m sure I ran over quite a few people and street signs on my simulated drives. In fact, I may or may not have done it intentionally (like that person stepping out of the truck on the simulator below!).

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Now, my daughter’s school doesn’t even have a Driver’s Ed class or a car. They take Driver’s Ed through private companies on their own time. If lots of her friends weren’t going to be in that same Driver’s Ed class this summer, my daughter would not want to go. There are a couple of different motivators at work here, though: friends in the class and Bojangle’s for lunch every day. In our world, Bojangle’s is motivation for just about anything.

It’s difficult to believe it’s time for her to take Driver’s Ed. I was talking with my friend, Kristi, who lives in Florida, yesterday, and she was telling me her 16-yr-old son just got his driver’s license. Her older daughter is in college, so her son is the only one at home. But since getting his license, he’s never home, she said. Her house seems too quiet. She isn’t complaining, because as she pointed out, it’s part of growing up.

And she’s right. Our children gradually become more independent throughout their lives. Things change.

As our daughter gets older, I’m finding summer is different every year. For most of her life, when she wanted to go to the pool, I had to be there too. Till she was about nine, she didn’t care where I sat at the pool. From nine to twelve, I had to be there, but she did not want to see me. And then, at twelve, she could start going by herself to meet friends, which worked out perfectly for me. While I enjoy going to the pool, I don’t need to go every day. In fact, at fourteen, she would prefer I wear a hoodie pulled low over my face while I drive slowly past the entrance and let her jump out of the car, so my face isn’t seen by any teenager in the area. I don’t mind. I remember 14.

When I was a little girl, Mother took us to the pool almost every morning. When we lived on the Alabama Gulf Coast, we would swim for a couple of hours before going home for a quick lunch, and then we would go crabbing in the afternoon. We’d hang our nets off the pier and check them every 20 to 30 minutes to see if there were any crabs in them.

Of course, in the preteen years, just like my daughter, I became more independent. I really do remember 14. A lot of our summers were filled up with baseball. My brother, who is 17 months younger, played baseball, and in summers, there were all star games all over the state. Once we became old enough to drive, there was a lot of time spent hanging with friends whenever we wanted. The pool, though, was always a mainstay in summer. I remember studying for my final exams my senior year of high school at the pool. My friend, Jill, and I took our books to the pool and sat out by the pool, studying.

Now, as my daughter gets ready to enter high school, she’s studying for a couple of exams in middle school.

Soon school will be out, and she will be able to enjoy the “lazy days of summer,” though they are anything but lazy. Between sports and trips, she will have a little downtime, and maybe then, she’ll get to enjoy some of the same things we used to enjoy in summer. I, certainly, plan to enjoy summer as much as I can doing some of my favorite things…

Here are my personal favorites:

PRETTY COCKTAILS Enjoy a Hungry Girl summer cocktail by the pool; for info, click here. Spritzers are good in the sun too. My favorite spritzer recipe (by Martha Stewart) is here.

LIGHTNING BUGS Also known as fireflies, lightning bugs are everywhere in summer.. When I was a little girl, we would catch them and put them in jars so we could watch them illuminate. Of course, it’s a catch and release program. Need some Mason jars? You can purchase them here. ***Do not run or walk with the jars. Put them on the ground or on a table. After catching your lightning bugs, walk over and put them in the jars.***

WATER ACTIVITIES Thank God for the “cement pond” in summertime! (That’s a Beverly Hillbillies reference.) Swimming pools…movie stars. Ok, so maybe not movie stars, but the pool is a great thing.  Of course, everybody loves the beach in summer, and in the Charlotte area, we are lucky to have two local lakes, Lake Norman and Lake Wiley.  As for water activities, I love stand-up paddleboarding and kayaking at the US National Whitewater Center. For info, click here.

VACATION Just get away! There’s nothing better than seeing new places! A couple of big trips and some little trip s….maybe even the Virginia Creeper Trail, a bike trail in Virginia. I’ve done it a few times, and every time is different. For info, click here.

Of course, the main thing I love about summer is getting to spend some extra time with my daughter. Time flies, and the way I see it, since she is starting high school next year, “Good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise,” we have a few more summers before she goes off to college. I want to make the most of this precious time. Sure, I try to cram a lot of activity into a couple months’ time, but we’re making memories. I’ve said before…people can steal stuff from you, but they can’t steal memories.

Happy Summer!

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by Kelly Mattei

Happy Birthday To Me!

They say it’s your birthday!
It’s my birthday too, yeah!
They say it’s your birthday!
We’re gonna have a good time!
–The Beatles, Birthday

Every year when my birthday rolls around, I sing that song to myself. It makes me think of the movie, Sixteen Candles, which was released when I was sixteen (almost seventeen). You can see a quick clip of that scene here. And what 16-yr-old girl didn’t love Jake Ryan then?

TOMORROW, I turn 51. Nothing special about 51, but nobody loves a birthday like I do! Do I need fancy gifts? No. Do I need adoration? No. I just like that it’s MY day…well, it’s my day and lots of other people’s day. I have a friend in California who has the same birthday and a friend in Pennsylvania who has the same birthday too, so it’s their day too.

I love a birthday. Always have. Between the ages of two and five, Happy Birthday to Me was my favorite song. I walked around singing it all the time…year round. In fact, my family teased me mercilessly about it. As an adult, I start celebrating before my birthday and keep celebrating for a while. My husband’s birthday is six days before mine, so I wait till his is over, and then, it’s on!

I remember lots of childhood birthdays, but my sixth birthday really sticks out in my mind for lots of reasons. It was 1973, and my birthday fell on the Sunday following the Friday that was the last day of kindergarten.

1973 was a big year in my life, especially those weeks around my birthday. Not only was my birthday coming up just as school was getting out, but I was going to Walt Disney World (that’s what we called it back then) for the very first time the week after my birthday! I had two big things happening almost at once, and I was beyond excited!

My mother planned a birthday party at our home. We invited my entire kindergarten class. We ate cake and played Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Donkey, because that was what we did at parties then. Mother’s friend, Martha, was there to help her with wrangling all those kids, and fortunately, we had a big backyard, so they could move us outside. I had gotten a piece of playground equipment for my birthday…a whirlybird. I had begged for it. We all got to play on that at my party. (See photo below) We also played on the swingset, but back then, swingsets had metal slides, and in south Alabama, those slides got pretty hot. Lots of kids blistered their backsides sliding down those slides in the 70s, but I don’t think anyone got blistered at my party.

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I also remember that I got in trouble. Having your entire kindergarten class over for your birthday when you’re turning six is a big deal. Apparently, I thought it made me the boss of the world. I have a vivid memory of my mother pulling me aside…literally pulling me aside by my arm…and whispering in my ear, “You’re being bossy. You need to settle down and be nice.” I remember feeling a little shocked, because somehow, I didn’t realize I was acting like a Queen Bee, but I’m sure I was. Some people, right now, are thinking, “Some things never change!”

Maybe that day it was the pre-Disney excitement. I’m sure everyone at my party also had to listen to me say repeatedly, “I’m flying to Walt Disney World in six days.” They probably wanted to punch me in the face.

Walt Disney World was just the Magic Kingdom back then…no Epcot, no Hollywood Studios, no Animal Kingdom..and it had only opened about 20 months prior, so I was among the first of my friends to go. Big stuff, especially since I had loved Mickey Mouse my entire life.

Six was a big birthday.

There were lots of memorable birthdays for obvious reasons: 16, 18, 21, 30, 40.

And then 50 came around last year. Wow! Half a century! What a glorious birthday! Lunch and Smokey & The Bandit with friends! Surprise dinner with friends! Brunch with the family! And I went on a fabulous birthday trip and stayed in my favorite hotel with my daughter and one of her friends. We had a wonderful, relaxing suite, and I loved every minute, drinking champagne with every meal and lounging on the patio of our suite. We ate at some of my favorite restaurants in Los Angeles, and it was a birthday to remember.

But as I think about past birthdays, I realize the best thing about birthdays, aside from celebrating another year of life, is the people…people who send Facebook messages, people who call, people who celebrate and/or send gifts or cards. All those things mean someone thought of me.

My mama isn’t here to celebrate 51 with me, but I have great memories of her on my various birthdays. She was there for all my childhood birthdays and made lots more of them special. For my 40th birthday, the first one after Daddy died, we had brunch at The Grand Hotel in Point Clear and spent the day there. Ten years later, when I turned 50, she found great joy in my excitement about that milestone birthday. It’s a great memory: Mother laughing at how happy I was to be 50. Even though she couldn’t go on my birthday trip with me, I sent her pictures and videos from the trip, and she enjoyed listening to every detail.

I know she would want me to enjoy this birthday too. My friends and family should hope I don’t get too bossy, though, because Mother’s not here to pull me aside and tell me to chill out.

So, what do I want for my 51st birthday? This weekend, I just want to do whatever comes to mind. I want to relax. My husband knows I just want some rest and relaxation. Well, that and some cake. I do love birthday cake. And some Champagne. I do love Champagne too. OK, maybe brunch with the family…that rounds it out. Oh, and I want my brother to call me and sing the Little Rascals birthday song from the episode titled Feed ‘Em And Weep. It’s what we do…for every birthday. If you aren’t familiar with it, you can watch it here.

But seriously, one of the best gifts my husband ever gives me is that first cup of coffee in bed every morning. He really doesn’t need to do anything else for me as long as he continues that practice. He started doing that a couple years ago, and I am a much happier person because of it. It makes me feel like every day is my birthday!

Happy Birthday to me!

by Kelly Mattei

Behind That White Picket Fence

When my daddy was sick and dying of pancreatic cancer in 2006, I learned a lot.

One thing I learned is that we never really know what someone is going through. I remember leaving my parents’ house one evening after spending time with them when he was sick. They lived in a traditional southern style home with a white picket fence. Yep, a white picket fence.

On the outside, everything appeared to be normal…quiet, peaceful. On the inside of that house, it was anything but normal. I remember thinking, “People driving by have no idea how sad things are inside my parents’ house right now.”

It made me think. It made me look at people differently.

As I drove out of their neighborhood that evening, I looked at each house I passed and wondered if everything was OK. I wondered if there was anyone else experiencing the sadness we were experiencing. Were the people in the corner house feeling OK? Was anyone lying in the floor of their house waiting for help? Were people crying around a dinner table because of illness or divorce? Were any of the neighbors having financial problems?

Have you ever been in a restaurant and received terrible service? It’s human nature for us to think, “What a lousy waiter.” But in reality, that waiter might be a great waiter who is going through a terrible time. We don’t know what kind of problems he may have at home. We don’t know if his wife or child might have a terminal illness. We don’t know if he can’t pay his bills. We don’t know if he is dying.

I remember when my daddy first started having symptoms in mid 2005. He was experiencing rapid, unexplained weight loss, which we attributed to the horrible hip pain he had been having. We had no idea it was pancreatic cancer, but we knew something was wrong.

At the same time, my maternal grandmother was in the early stages of dementia, and my mother was having to drive back and forth from the Mobile, Alabama, area to Birmingham, five hours each way, to get her evaluated and help get her settled in an assisted living facility. Daddy couldn’t go with her, because he wasn’t able to sit in the car for that long.

No one had any idea.

That September, right in the middle of all this, my husband’s beloved grandmother died. The funeral was in Mobile. The day before the funeral, my mother had to go back to Birmingham, to meet with medical professionals about my grandmother’s care and to get the house locked up. It couldn’t wait. On the same day, my daddy had to get an epidural for the hip pain. It was a terrible time for my husband’s family, and in a different way, a terrible time for my family.

My parents were very private people, so very few people knew what they were going through.

With Mother out of town, my daddy was incapacitated because of the epidural and his hip problems. He was in terrible pain. There was no way I could ask him to keep a two-yr-old during the funeral, and there was no way he or my mother could attend. They said prayers for my husband and his family, but their own issues were big…bigger than anyone outside the family knew.

I’m sure there were some people who thought they should have been there or that they should have kept our daughter while we went to the funeral, but again…you never know what someone else is going through. One person even mentioned it. I just thought, “Bless his heart…he has no idea.” My parents were dealing with two different major health crises in two different cities. Even though we didn’t know the extent of my daddy’s illness, we knew something was wrong. And my grandmother, well, that was just sad. My poor mother was exhausted from driving back and forth…taking care of people at both ends of the state. There was no way my parents could have done anything differently than what they did.

As very private people, my parents would not have wanted me to tell anyone what they were dealing with, but it was a very difficult time.

No one could have known.

When my daughter was starting first grade, we had a “meet the teacher” day. All the parents gathered in the classroom. The teacher announced she would need a room mother for the school year. My friend whose child was also in the class turned to me and said, “You should do that!”

Unbeknownst to her, my husband was scheduled for brain surgery that September. I said, “Oh, I can’t. My husband is having brain surgery soon.” She was horrified. She’d had no idea, because no matter what my family was going through, we had to continue putting one foot in front of the other. I had been living life as usual, but something big was looming over our family. Of course, I told her not to be horrified, because we hadn’t told a lot of people.

This past December, when my mother died, I kept it quiet for a while in Charlotte, because I needed to process it emotionally before dealing with it publicly. I remember going to a meeting at school in early January and running into a friend. I saw her and said, “I have something to tell you, and when I say it, I need you to not ask questions and immediately change the subject.” I didn’t want to cry in public, and I didn’t want to make a scene.

She handled it perfectly. I said, “My mother died at the end of December.” She did exactly as I asked and immediately asked me about something else. Yay! Lots of people would have thought it was strange behavior, but she knew what I needed. I needed to keep going.

That friend and I have known each other for ten years, and until I told her, she didn’t know what was going on with me.

We really never know, do we? Maybe we should take that into consideration when someone forgets to meet us somewhere or forgets to return a call. Maybe that terrible waiter just needs someone to be kind to him.

How many times have you had a friend tell you they were getting divorced, but you had no idea there was a problem in their marriage? I’ve had two friends surprise me with this news in just the past few years, and I actually consider myself to be a pretty darn perceptive person. These are friends I saw regularly at least a few times a month, and I had no clue anything was wrong.

Often, we keep our private lives just that…private.

I know that after my mother died, I dropped out of life for a month. I gave myself permission to stay home, sit in bed, and do nothing for a month. On February 1, I rejoined the living. During the month of January, lots of people still had no idea what was going on in my life. I was grieving my mother, but I wanted to do it privately.

So, as you go through your day, try to remember that lots of people are dealing with terrible things…every day…everywhere. It might be your neighbor who was just diagnosed with cancer. It might be your child’s teacher who has been cranky lately, because her husband lost his job. It might be your friend who hasn’t told you she’s having marital problems.

Often, there are things we do not know. Let’s try to give people the benefit of the doubt.