By Bob Gaydos

      “Thanks, man.”

      Maybe he said “chief.” Or “boss.”

       It wasn’t “pal” or “bud” or “dude.” But it might just as well have been for the casual way it was tossed. At least it wasn’t “ace” or “bro.”

        This column will fall in the category of unsolicited advice (from me) and other stuff (from elsewhere).

        Before I get to the advice, let me say that I’m well aware of the pitfalls surrounding that activity. But I’m also creeping up on 85 years old and have been labeled a curmudgeon by my former newspaper colleagues years ago. I choose to look upon it as a recognition of experience and a license to, if not kill, be truthful and possibly helpful because please don’t waste my time and maybe what I have to say will prove useful to you in the future.

       Dude.

       So I took care of some personal stuff the other day that was long overdue in that category. The young man who helped me was maybe 20. Could’ve been older, but looked young and talked a lot about super heroes and video games. I take those as clues.

        He did a nice job but he saved me some money and cheated himself out of a bigger tip by not offering some extra available services which I would have been happy to receive. When it came time to pay, I handed him the cash and signaled to keep the extra as a tip.

     “Thanks, boss.”

     No. (Here comes the advice.) I’m at least 60 years older than you. I was not insulted or offended by what you said. More surprised than anything else. I am not your “man.” Or “boss.” Or pal, dude, ace, bro, chief or bud. Seriously. Haven’t you ever heard the phrase, “Thank you, sir?” Especially since you work in a service job where it literally pays to be polite to older clients? Age has its limits, but it also merits some recognition, unless you’re a serial killer or delusional politician.

     Since it’s more likely that the parents of young men who talk about super heroes movies will be reading this than they will, maybe you can try to pass on some useful advice to your sons (for some reason, I think the daughters get this) on how to interact with clients who are significantly older than they are. I know it can sometimes be challenging, but somebody’s got to do it. 

    And finally, young man, when it comes to accepting the tip, there’s an old newspaper saying that may be useful: When in doubt, leave it out. Drop the “chief” or “man” or “boss.” You can even drop the “sir.”

    “Thank you” is a complete sentence. It always works and it never gets old.

      Alright, getting the ego in check. That’s it for curmudgeoning, bros.

                              ***

     In the other stuff category,:

— Maybe it’s just me, but: I see that the Senate recently had a rare great idea. It has moved to ban participation in so-called prediction markets by all senators and staff members. The House should also approve, on the rare occasion when it’s actually in session.

— Maybe it’s just me, but: The life of a baseball manager may not be as enjoyable as some may think. May had just begun, but the season had already ended for Boston Red Sox manager, Alex Cora. He’d been fired. But barely had he finished packing his bags when he was offered the job as manager of the Philadelphia Phillies. They had fired Rob Thomson, the most successful manager in the team’s history, a couple days after Cora got canned. Cora thought the offer over and immediately decided he’d rather spend the summer with his family in Puerto Rico than in Philadelphia. He turned down the job. The Phillies then looked in-house and offered the job to Don Mattingly. The former Yankee great was bench coach for the Philadelphia team. Mattingly took the job on an interim basis, saying he wasn’t sure he wanted to do it full-time because he’s getting a little old and wasn’t sure he had the energy for it. Some endorsement. He also might have been thinking of the problems he might run into as manager since a lot of decisions on who to play, when to play them and how to make up your batting order often come from the front office. The Phillies general manager and Don’s boss is Preston Mattingly, Don’s son. Hmmm. Wonder how long this arrangement will last.

    — Maybe it’s just me, but: I’ve come to think that not everything that comes from the government is the pure truth. You know all those gold coins you’ve been collecting that were produced by the U.S. mint from pure gold mined in America only? Guaranteed? The New York Times recently ran an investigative piece detailing how the mint for decades has been using gold produced in other countries, some in fact mined by drug cartels. The gold is apparently still pure, thankfully, but the rest of the story is pure BS.

   

     

 

        

       

 

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By Bob Gaydos

 For most of my life, I’ve lived in small cities (Bayonne, Binghamton, Annapolis, Middletown) and one large town (Wallkill), which is really a mall-dotted highway surrounded by housing complexes. Throw in a few years living on college campuses. Basically, it’s been city or community living.

    When you live with a lot of other people close by and you want to be relatively content, you learn the rules of the road, the do’s and don’ts of getting along. Mostly, it’s mind your own business and don’t make a lot of noise.

     A few years ago, I moved to the country, a bit of upstate New York between the Hudson River and the Catskills that is often protected from major weather issues by the imposing Shawangunk Ridge.

     Country living means owls, woodpeckers, coyotes and starry skies, oh my.

     It’s nice. Well, usually. It’s quiet. Usually. In any case, it most definitely has its own rules of the road. Things a transplanted city boy ought to know. Something I call country etiquette.

     The notion (see how I used the word “notion“ instead of “idea“?) that there was such a thing as country etiquette grew out of a recent conversation about a not uncommon country experience.

     A couple of years ago, our quiet summer evening at home was disrupted by a loud squealing of tires and a loud thud. Right in front of our house.

     We rushed out to find a car sitting in a culvert in front of our house, a distraught young woman sitting behind the wheel and our mailbox on the ground, post and all. I don’t recall who called 911, but state police arrived quickly, talked with the driver (who was shaken but not hurt), someone called a tow truck, we went back in the house and eventually everything was back to normal, except for the mailbox. Its career was over.

      In short order, we replaced the mailbox and occasionally wondered what happened to the young driver. I suspected alcohol may have been involved.

     A couple of weeks later, the whole scene repeated itself. Nighttime. Squeal. Thud. Car. Culvert. Young woman driver. Unhurt. Mailbox kaput.

     Deja vu all over again, as Yogi Berra once said. Same follow up. Police. Tow truck. Mailbox flattened.

      Again, we replaced it and the new one has survived ever since. But here’s the thing. Neither driver offered to pay to replace the mailbox (they both got out of their cars and talked to us) or to have it repaired. Now, it seems to me that a basic rule of country etiquette ought to be that if you wipe out someone’s mailbox (and get caught at it), the decent thing to do is to make it right again. Pay for a new one.

      And that’s what got me thinking about other rules of country etiquette. What are some things to help someone new get along with neighbors who may not live right next door? Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

— Having a handy supply of eggs is nice, but keep your chickens in your own yard as much as possible. Free range doesn’t mean the whole neighborhood, or, especially, the busy road.

— Don’t shovel your driveway snow into the road. It’s only extra work for the highway crews and it’s dangerous.

— When driving, wave at people walking along country roads. It’s neighborly.

— Walkers, please wear reflective clothing at night. It’s awfully dark out there sometimes and the roads are often winding and have no shoulder. We’d like to get to know you.

— Don’t let your dog walk on the road side. Preferably, don’t walk your dog on the road at all. Some drivers are less attentive than others. (See reference to mailboxes above.) And yes, clean up.

— Slow down for people at their mailbox. (A personal peeve of mine.) You can even wave.

— In fact, slow down in general. Posted speed limits are not merely suggestions.

— Be patient with a farm tractor on the road. He’ll be out of your way shortly, or he’ll pull over as soon as he can. He’s working.

— Be honest at roadside honor stands. Act like there are cameras in the trees.

— Free stuff at the foot of a driveway is really free. If you want it, take it. Someone always does.

— If you’re not going to back up a lot of traffic, be nice and let people back out of their driveways. It can be tricky sometimes.

    That’s what I came up with so far. If you have other suggestions, please leave them in the comment section.

    While I’m at it, I figure I might as well add another feature of country living — a potpourri of handmade road signs. Here are a few I noticed this past year:

— Corn maze, hay ride, pumpkins, pickles, sweet corn

— Beef sale

— Fresh garlic

— Sunflower patch, mums, hay for sale

— Farm fresh eggs

— U pick pumpkins

— Fresh key lime pie, 

— We buy ATVs dead or alive

     Like I said, nice.

     ‘Til next time at pet-friendly Tractor Supply.

rjgaydos@gmail.com