Meals With A View

the following is my first published work ever. it appeared in Decades, a little magazine put out by Hoffman Auto. it was published by the same group that published Hartford magazine. i interned at Hartford magazine as an assistant editor for a few months and i wrote several freelance articles. i enjoyed this one because i got to take long drives throughout the state as "research". the financial relationship between myself and the company was never very good, but i digress. for this article, they used a few random pictures, but the following writing is as it appeared in the autumn 2006 issue of Decades.
and yes, i realize i am posting this in spring. shut up.

Meals With a View

Connecticut’s winding country roads provide optimal views of fall’s

most vibrant foliage, with quaint eateries providing stops along the way.

by Geoff Elterich

As a child, it was simply magic that changed green leaves to wonderful shades of red, yellow, brown and orange. Of course, we learned a long time ago that as the temperature gets colder, chlorophyll breaks down, revealing the vibrant inner colors of the leaves. If you need to be reminded of the beauty attached to this simple, natural occurrence, there are plenty of places you can visit in Connecticut that are sure to illustrate how magical nature can be. 

Connecticut’s scenic delights range from hilltop panoramas to colonial villages, from deep forests to busy cities. As the capital city, Hartford boasts many historical sites and structures. Amidst the city’s metropolitan landscape, beautiful parks abound, such as Bushnell Park and Elizabeth Park. Perfect for walking or picnicking, these parks allow folks an opportunity to enjoy the foliage and unwind from the everyday hustle of the city. For a more rural approach to foliage exploration, a drive down route 169 presents travelers with a perfect illustration of Connecticut’s scenic marvels. It is a quaint drive through the Pomfret and Woodstock area with everything a traveler might expect to find on a drive through small town New England. Stonewalls and low-hanging trees line the one-lane road. Gorgeous rustic houses and barns are interspersed along the winding route and travelers will find the most charming local shops and businesses. Martha’s Herbary in Pomfret is a “unique gift shop” that sells plants and herbs and offers cooking classes. At the New England Center for Contemporary Art in Brooklyn, 20th century art blooms along with the vivid colors of the fall foliage. For real adventurers, the Woodstock Airport offers $20 airplane rides for an aerial view of the countryside. 

If you’d rather stay grounded this autumn, Lapsley Farms is a great stop for the hungry traveler. There, you can pick your own apples or just eat some fresh ones. There are plenty of fruit stands all along Route 169, with a wide selection of the best fresh fruits. Those looking for a full meal will have no problem finding great spots to satisfy any appetite. The Vanilla Bean Café in Pomfret is a wonderful little diner with a great selection of sandwiches and soup. On a foliage watching expedition, it should be mandatory to get the New England clam chowder—it’s delicious and a perfect compliment to the cozy, traditional New England setting of the café. The building is split into two sections: one room for lunch, and the other for dinner, which is served on weekends. The dinner specials range from sea scallops to beef ribs and to complement the meal, one can choose from a wide variety of wine and beer. A glass display case in the front room exhibits all of the cafe’s delicious desserts, making it almost impossible to pass up on the peanut butter chocolate chip brownies, or any number of treats. 

Another fantastic dining experience for the foliage explorer is The Golden Lamb Buttery in Brooklyn, not far off of Route 169. On a hill overlooking the gorgeous countryside, The Golden Lamb appears as a large, classic red barn. Sheep and cows can be seen grazing on the premises. In the fall—year-round, really—beautiful sights abound, with open, rolling fields surrounded by the dense woods. Inside, the building feels like a rustic museum. It is a refurbished barn, with a high ceiling, wooden floors and thick wood beams from the floor to the ceiling. The front parlor is adorned with pictures of animals and the Connecticut countryside. Farm tools are decorated and on display, and a history of The Golden Lamb, as told through newspaper and magazine articles, hang on the wall. The kitchen is open from noon to 2:30 p.m. on Tuesdays through Saturdays, serving delicious home-cooked meals. The dining room is located in the back of the building, through an unmarked door, as if a meeting place for a secret society lies beyond. In fact, the whole place gives off the feeling that one has stumbled onto a secret treasure, tucked deep into the Connecticut woods, there for only the true-of-heart explorers to find. 

There is also a back porch for dining, or for simply taking in the breathtaking view. The porch overlooks a small lake, surrounded on all sides by lush foliage. If there is any one scene that best represents Connecticut’s fall foliage, this is it. Looking down from on top of the hill, one will see the luxurious forest give off a burnished glow. There is a virtual explosion of cherry reds, lime greens, shades of auburn, and bright yellows in the canopy of leaves above the sparkling waters of the lake. The scene would be a perfect postcard for autumn in Connecticut. 

If Route 169 is not exactly your neck of the woods, there are plenty of other routes to take for a leaf peeping expedition. In fact, all you have to do to find beautiful Connecticut foliage is look out the window. Better yet, go for a walk. Smell the fragrant scents of the fading summer and feel the cool crisp air of the impending winter. One occasionally forgets the beauty that lies at our fingertips. Being continually surrounded by it, it can become overlooked, simply serving as the background. Sometimes you have to get in your car, or get on your bike, or strap on your boots and take a hike, with the expressed purpose of viewing the scenery, to remind you how stunning Connecticut’s background can be. 

For residents, the knowledge of the beauty of fall in Connecticut is almost innate. Every resident has his or her own favorite spot to take in the beauty. Connecticut’s reputation for autumn splendor has even expanded beyond state borders. National Geographic Traveler and the Rand McNally Atlas rank the Litchfield Hills among the country’s most scenic driving destinations. Like so many Connecticut towns, Litchfield combines history and contemporary flair. Amidst the rolling Litchfield Hills, you will find historic structures—18th century mansions are kept as homes—as well as upscale boutiques and restaurants. A visit to town in autumn puts foliage aficionados in the heart of a region noted for its scenic driving, hiking, biking and antiquing. 

A sign on the wall at the Vanilla Bean Café states, “Simplify.” It’s a perfect message in this day and age, when our lives seem to be getting more and more complex. It is more important now than ever to take time to appreciate simple pleasures and the beauty of nature. A simple drive reveals nature’s splendor all around us. There is so much opportunity to view Connecticut’s simple, magnificent beauty, you just need to keep your eyes open. On your way to work, remember to look around and take in the beauty. The Merritt Parkway is the ideal route for many New York and Connecticut commuters. It is one of the oldest and most beautifully designed highways in the country. With abundant roadside forests and vegetation, it boasts some of the most impressive fall foliage settings. Route 2 is another place to keep one eye on the road and the other on the surroundings. Stretching from Hartford to the Mohegan and Pequot Indian reservations, the route is one of the most pleasant drives in the state during the fall. 

To enjoy the natural beauty of Connecticut in autumn, you don’t need a defined destination. Driving through the state, one truly discovers that the journey is more fulfilling than the destination. There are plenty of routes to take and places to visit, but if you’re simply looking for beautiful sights, get lost. Get in your car or put on your boots and just go. It is in paths untrodden that one finds the true splendor of nature. In Connecticut, nature’s beauty is never far away.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed

The Ex

(Despite posting my second poem in a row, I've never been a huge fan of poetry. It's fun to try every now and again, though. This is actually an old poem from some time in my college days. Keep in mind, characters of a story/poem don't always represent the writers of said story/poem, even when the narrative is in first person. With that being said, I have no ill will towards any of my exes. I don't know if they'd say the same about me, but there you have it. Enjoy.)

The Ex

 

Wrapping my raggedy red and blue blanket around her body,

Sitting at the edge of my bed,

She reminds me why it was so good.

I force myself to remember reasons why it was so bad,

Her unexpected appearance being one.

This room is not for logical thought.

 

I walk downstairs to the family room

Where she lays on the loveseat,

Wearing her baggy great sweatsuit,

Legs hanging over the edge,

Honey-blonde hair in a pony-tail.

 

Why is it so hard to breathe as I look at her?

 

Being the ever-cool gentleman, I offer her a drink.

Being the ever-controlling bitch, she asks for one.

 

I know there is some rat poison lying around here somewhere.

 

No use, really.

Not against her mutant-healing factor.

Not that she knows what that is.

Then again, I don't know much about "Sex and the City." 

 

She thanks me for the drink,

Not with words, just a heart stopping look in her milk-chocolate eyes.

So beautiful. So caring. So sexy. So loving. So...

"What? No ice?"

So glad I dumped her.

 

"Sorry."

 

Not really.

I knew she would want ice.

She knew I knew.

Now we both know.

Know what?

Something, that's for sure.

 

I'm in control, I know that much.

 

Which way do I direct this chance encounter?

Towards the always-pleasant, yet somehow unfulfilling, positive?

Or the much easier, much more satisfying, negative?

 

I could tell her how I still yearn for what lies beneath her favorite gray sweatpants,

Or I could ask her why she wears the same ugly, ratty goddam thing every time I see her.

 

I could tell her how much I've missed seeing her perfect face every day,

Or I could tell her how many beautiful, buxom young women have been chasing me down.

 

I should tell her something.

 

What time is it anyway?

Isn't Sportscenter on?

 

"Can you pass the remote?"

 

She's gone.

Been that way for a while.

 

Oh look, "The Simpsons" is on.

Excellent.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.

spring

A robin lay lifeless at the base of a tree

Peaceful.

The sun shining down

Mocking the symbol of spring's arrival

Or bringing new life to its meaning.

Life is beautiful

Carrying on despite the eventuality of death

Or because of it.

The fresh green grass sprouting up though the dried brown

The hot sun warming up the cold ground

Reminders of the past and the future lay all around.

Those eyes. Those eyes.

Those portals to nothingness

A reminder of what awaits us all

A reminder of what came before

The body remains as a memento
Left behind for the living

So moving in its stillness.

The sun shining down
Peaceful.

A robin lay lifeless at the base of a tree
The symbol of spring's arrival
The symbol of new life
Now representing death
Death is beautiful

(this is what happens when you're sick and you take a lot of dayquil/nyquil and watch way too much Dexter)

I Love You All...Class Dismissed

The Arnold Palmer 4

Click the link to read:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Where the hell was the letter? He remembered placing it right on top of his desk. He quickly checked his pockets. A sudden sensation of dread washed over him as he imagined finding the letter in his pants pocket. If he had it this whole time, he'd never forgive himself for his idiocy.

The letter wasn't in his pockets. He scoured his desk, picking up every paper, looking under every folder and even his desk calendar. He looked in the drawers of his desk, despite the impossibility of finding it there. The one time he found his misplaced keys in the fridge in college left him searching in even the most ridiculous of places whenever he lost something.

Where the hell was the letter?

He collapsed into his chair. He really needed a drink. Wait, needed? Maybe he did have a problem.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something white on the floor under the cabinet next to his desk.

"Please, God..."

He gently stood up and limped the few feet to the cabinet. There, with one corner sticking slightly out from under the cabinet, lay the envelope. He bent down, picked it up, and kissed it.

He didn't waste time wondering how it had gotten there, he simply walked out of his office with the envelope in hand and headed towards the elevator.

"Time for that Arnold Palmer."

He pushed the button and the elevator opened immediately. Finally, things were going his way. He stepped in and pressed the button for the ground floor.

As he descended, he began humming to himself. He could almost feel the cool liquid easing down his throat. The pain in his foot even subsided a little as he envisioned the refreshing future that lay ahead.

As he began humming the second verse of "You are My Sunshine" (he wasn't really sure if there was a second verse, but the song is really short otherwise) the elevator slowed to a halt. The door made that annoying "ping" that informed Steve he would be having company on the rest of his elevator ride. He looked at the numbers above the door. He was on the 2nd floor again.

Maybe the young woman was leaving. This could be his shot at redemption. He stood up straight, sucked in his gut that had slightly begun hang over his belt, and looked up at the reflection in the ceiling to fix any hair that might have fallen out of place. Satisfied, he quickly prepared an explanation for his previous lack of courtesy. Just as he came up with the perfect quip, the perfect combination of words that would express his remorse and show her just how witty and helpful he really was...the door opened.

It was the custodian.

Goddammit.

He moved to the side of the elevator to make room for the custodian and his enormous vacuum.

The young man, without looking up or acknowledging Steve in any way, pushed the vacuum inside and maneuvered it around so it was facing the door and he was standing behind it, somehow managing to miss Steve's foot this time. As he settled into his position, the doors closed and Steve let out a sigh of relief as the elevator descended again.

After a silent ride, the doors opened to the ground floor.

Neither man moved. It was the world renown elevator conundrum: who exits first? Now, there are many schools of thought on this. When the elevator is full, there is no problem: the people closest to the doors leave first and people simply spill out as they can. The problem arises when there are only a few people. Generally, people stand at the back of the elevator when given enough space, so oftentimes nobody is closer to the doors than anybody else. When there is a man and a woman, the code of chivalry says to let the woman go first; on the other hand, two men, alone in an elevator, exiting on the same floor, is the world's biggest riddle.

No movement.

Steve snuck a look at the custodian, who was slightly raising his head to do the same. They met eyes. Steve nodded, indicating to the custodian that he could go first. The custodian nodded back, but didn't move. Was his nod indicating that he understood Steve, or that Steve should go first? Should Steve go?

He was going. It was ridiculous just standing there. He was going.

He stepped forward, just as the custodian started to move.

He stopped. The custodian stopped.

They looked at each other.

Goddammit.

The elevator doors began to close.

Steve stepped forward with his arm out to stop the door as the custodian did the same thing; while doing so, his vacuum jerked forward.

Directly into Steve's toe.

He felt the anger rise along with the pain. His eyes narrowed, his face reddened, his fists clenched and he let out a primal scream from the pit of his stomach. Using all the force in his body, he slammed the vacuum back into the custodian, jamming the handle into his stomach. The custodian slumped over and Steve unloaded with a vicious uppercut to the young man's forehead. His head snapped back with a loud "crack" and hit the elevator wall. He started to fall towards the floor but Steve's hands were around his neck before he got too far. Steve saw the fear and confusion in the young man's eyes and it only enraged him further. He squeezed his hands tighter and tighter, until the custodian's face turned bright red. As it began turning to a light shade of blue, Steve tossed the man out of the elevator door. The custodian was of average build but Steve's fury allowed him to toss the man like a trash bag, which is how Steve currently viewed him. He hit the ground and coughed loudly as he curled into a fetal position. Steve grabbed the vacuum, and once again using the strength of his fury and momentarily forgetting the pain in his foot, he lifted the vacuum over his head. He could already picture the man's head bursting open and blood and brain matter splattering the floor and walls of the lobby.

He brought the vacuum down as hard as he could.

"You all right man?"

Darkness surrounded Steve as a distant voice called to him.

"Dude?"

Blurred images began to take shape. He could see a face leaning over his. The voice was coming from the face.

"You went down pretty hard. You all right?"

"Huh?" Steve managed to blurt out. He now recognized the face as the custodian. Why was it still in one piece?

And why was Steve on the floor?

He saw the custodian's hand reaching down. Reluctantly, Steve grabbed it and attempted to get to his feet as the man pulled him upward. As he moved, he was reminded painfully of his broken toe.

"Ahh!" he half screamed and half mumbled, letting go of the helping hand. He got upright on his knees and stopped. He was on the floor next to the elevator door, with the vacuum standing next to him. He instinctively sneered at the uncaring machine, grabbed on to the handle and pulled himself up on his right foot.

"Dude, you need some help?"

"No," Steve replied. "Thanks." After a slight pause, he asked, "What happened?"

"I don't know man. We were leaving the elevator, then all of a sudden you turned like bright red and just fell over, knocked out. Weirdest thing I've ever seen."

Steve tried to remember what happened. All he could remember was his vision of the custodian's dark red blood splattered on the lobby's grey carpet.

"Then you were just layin there while the door kept trying to close on your head. You got a little cut on your forehead. So I kinda dragged you out here."

Steve put his fingers to his forehead. Sure enough, there was a slight trickle of blood and a large bump beginning to form.

"Uhh, thanks."

"Least I could do. So what happened man? You got like a condition or something?"

Steve considered his answer. "Uhh, no..." He was still a little out of it, trying to make sense of everything. The pain in his foot was almost matched by the pain in his head. What happened?

He looked down again at the vacuum he was leaning on. The vacuum.

The damn kid hit him with the vacuum again. That must have caused him to pass out, either from pain or anger, or both.

He felt the anger rising again.

"No, I just...forget it." He swallowed the rage bubbling up in his throat.

"All right. Man, you had me scared for a bit. I thought I did something at first."

Steve almost passed out again, this time most definitely from anger, but he took a deep breath, held tightly to the vacuum handle, and composed himself.

"Nope, all good," he managed through gritted teeth.

"All right, cool. I'm on thin ice here already, I can't have any more bad reports or I'll be back out on my ass."

Steve had a vision of his geriatric boss literally kicking the custodian out of the building on to his ass. A slight smile crept to his lips. Hell, all he had to do was write a quick note and this kid was gone. He didn't even have to resort to violence, or even a verbal confrontation.

He thought of what he would write. Maybe he'd even use his Creative Writing degree for once and put the note in haiku form.

Janitor is bad

So incapable

My toe really hurts

Granted, he was a little rusty.

"Oh, yeah, and you dropped this." The custodian reached toward Steve, holding some kind of paper.

The letter.

God. Damn. It.

"Thanks." Steve took the letter, and all thoughts of revenge disappeared. He couldn't punish the guy now. Steve probably would have forgotten the letter entirely if not for him. And the guy did pull him out of the elevator. Sure, he caused the situation in the first place, but at least he acted appropriately afterwards.

And was it really the guy's fault? The toe was already broken. Hell, if Steve just said something about it in the first place, this probably could have been avoided. Why was he being such an asshole? This was becoming a trend lately.

"Thanks a lot. I really appreciate it."

"No problem. Just be careful man. You look famished. Get something to eat, and stop working so hard dude. Usually I'm the only one here at this time. If nobody else is working this hard, you shouldn't be either, that's my motto."

Now the guy was a life coach and a philosopher. But he was right. Steve needed a good meal and some rest.

And that Arnold Palmer.

He thanked the custodian again and limped to the front door, for some reason still trying to hide the fact that his toe was broken. Despite all evidence against it, he maintained the idea that this was the best way to handle his situation.

He opened the door and stepped into the dark night.

-end pt 4

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.