Fresh out of the oven let me say, this has nothing
whatsoever to do with baking, food or recipes, nor is it some tricky
math problem. What it is, however, is the story of Lem
Plopkin. Lem is a Scandinavian born Hawaiian. His Mother and two
sisters are full blooded Hawaiians. Lem's Father and younger
brother-in-law are both Democrats.
Lem studied to become a chef at the Sorbonne, but as I have already stated this is not to be a story about food or baking so we'll leave that part of his life out. We will pick it up just after he flunked out and landed a job as a roofer.
Lem never really had the physical agility or dexterity for heights, but once up on a rooftop Lem loved the view. He couldn't get enough. Even during lunch breaks Lem would stay up on the peaks to just sit and stare. He wouldn't even climb down when the rain set in. He somehow felt this was as close to heaven as he would ever get.
But our story doesn't begin on a rooftop, no - far from it. This story takes place on city bus 18. It was a Sunday morning and, as he had done every Sunday, Lem rode the bus down to the farmer's market where he would shop for fresh fruits and vegetables for the week. Today, however, when Lem climbed aboard and dropped his change into the box, a small red light on the top of the box came on. Lem had never noticed the light before or if he had he’d never seen it light up.
Lem looked at the bus driver, who he expected to beGary Gary
"You're notGary
The driver looked up at Lem.
"Nate, and you'll need another ten cents"
Confused and just a little concerned Lem reached into his pocket for another dime. "Is this bus 18?"
The little red light began flashing.
"I can't move the bus until you drop your dime or two nickels into the box."
Lem quickly put another ten cents into the box. The red light stopped flashing and then went out.
"Take your seat please." said the driver as he pulled the bus forward.
Lem stumbled a little but quickly grabbed the seat three rows back from the driver. He still wasn't sure he'd gotten onto the right bus but for now he'd just pay attention to the stops and listen for the announcement for the farmer's market.
As the bus made its way through the city, Lem began to notice the other passengers. None of them looked familiar and no one seemed to be smiling. In fact, they all appeared quite grumpy. No one was talking and none of them were looking outside. They didn't seem to care where they were headed but were just quietly bouncing along within their own misery.
Lem was glad not to ride with this bunch every week. He was used to people being happy, friendly. Someone almost always had something nice to say, even if it was just good-morning, and they knew his name. Lem hadn't recognized anyone on the bus, especially the driver. Surely he had gotten onto the wrong bus.
Lem studied to become a chef at the Sorbonne, but as I have already stated this is not to be a story about food or baking so we'll leave that part of his life out. We will pick it up just after he flunked out and landed a job as a roofer.
Lem never really had the physical agility or dexterity for heights, but once up on a rooftop Lem loved the view. He couldn't get enough. Even during lunch breaks Lem would stay up on the peaks to just sit and stare. He wouldn't even climb down when the rain set in. He somehow felt this was as close to heaven as he would ever get.
But our story doesn't begin on a rooftop, no - far from it. This story takes place on city bus 18. It was a Sunday morning and, as he had done every Sunday, Lem rode the bus down to the farmer's market where he would shop for fresh fruits and vegetables for the week. Today, however, when Lem climbed aboard and dropped his change into the box, a small red light on the top of the box came on. Lem had never noticed the light before or if he had he’d never seen it light up.
Lem looked at the bus driver, who he expected to be
"You're not
The driver looked up at Lem.
"Nate, and you'll need another ten cents"
Confused and just a little concerned Lem reached into his pocket for another dime. "Is this bus 18?"
The little red light began flashing.
"I can't move the bus until you drop your dime or two nickels into the box."
Lem quickly put another ten cents into the box. The red light stopped flashing and then went out.
"Take your seat please." said the driver as he pulled the bus forward.
Lem stumbled a little but quickly grabbed the seat three rows back from the driver. He still wasn't sure he'd gotten onto the right bus but for now he'd just pay attention to the stops and listen for the announcement for the farmer's market.
As the bus made its way through the city, Lem began to notice the other passengers. None of them looked familiar and no one seemed to be smiling. In fact, they all appeared quite grumpy. No one was talking and none of them were looking outside. They didn't seem to care where they were headed but were just quietly bouncing along within their own misery.
Lem was glad not to ride with this bunch every week. He was used to people being happy, friendly. Someone almost always had something nice to say, even if it was just good-morning, and they knew his name. Lem hadn't recognized anyone on the bus, especially the driver. Surely he had gotten onto the wrong bus.
To be continued
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