6:26 p.m. | 2003-04-26 The Diner & The Park. Back when I was a senior in high school, MyDad and I were the only ones still living in the family home. MyMother had remarried and moved away taking Younger Sister with her. Eldest Sister had her own place and Dearest Sister had married and moved in with her (now ex) husband. As neither MyDad nor I cooked at the time, we went out to breakfast and dinner every day, and bought lunch at the snack shack at school. In the morning, we would go to the same breakfast place, read the paper and discuss articles of interest. In the evening, we would go to the same dinner place and he�d engage me in serious discussions about politics, religion, etc. Actually, at dinner, it�s more like he�d get me to take a stance on a topic and then play devil�s advocate forcing me to defend my position, and shooting down all my weak arguments until I had a good, solid position. Then, usually, he�d agree with me. He called it �mental exercise�; I called it �indigestion�. Now, I miss the hell out such discussions. Anyway, since his death five months ago, I�ve been trying to find ways to cope with the finality of his absence. One day, I suddenly realized that MyDad had always kept up with that tradition. Every place that he�d lived, he�d found a local restaurant that he visited regularly. Looking back, I realized that I�d done that same thing too, until I moved to this particular house three years ago. One Saturday in January, I decided I was going to find my regular eating joint. I instantly knew where I was going to go. The odd thing was that I hadn�t been there before, but I knew it was the right place. I wanted a place that was totally a local joint and filled with �regulars�. I was looking for my Cheers. Something like this. (Waitress:) Are you alone? (CI:) Yes. (Waitress:) Well, you aren�t anymore. Lord, I thought I was going to burst into tears. It�s just what I wanted. Only locals, tucked away in midtown, full of diversity (old, young, families, couples, singles, gay, straight, brown, black, white, cops, lawbreakers, etc.) The waitresses are experienced, friendly and remember your name. The food is good, varied and relatively inexpensive. They never rush you, they let you make substitutions at no extra expense, and the d�cor is really cheesy. So every Saturday morning, I grab the newspaper and head to The Diner. I read the paper, eat, people watch and eavesdrop. They always have my ice tea waiting, know I want a salad instead of coleslaw and automatically bring me a to-go box. They all say hi, smile and chat. It�s all so hallmarky they should make a movie about it. But really, I haven�t felt this close to my father in a really long time. Anyway, this week�s news from The Diner is that Maria (waitress) is pregnant and Mr. Chris (manager) is taking a little vacation while they train Mr. Professional. Mr. Professional doesn�t laugh and smile because, as I�ve been told, he�s nervous. Soon though, Mr. Chris will return with his big booming voice, deep laughter and bright smiles. It was such a beautiful day that I went to The Park after lunch. The Park is infamous for it�s rose garden, pond, and library. I found a bench in a sunny location facing the pond. I was enjoying the sun and people watching. I was watching little kids feed the ducks and geese. Then I noticed a female duck with little ducklings. The ducklings were only about 2� long so they were very young. They were all swimming around when a male duck decided he wanted a little afternoon delight with Momma duck. Now, I don�t know if any of you have witnessed duck mating before but it can be rather shocking. See, one male duck decides he�s ready to mate and jumps the female. Then a bunch of other male ducks try their luck at it. I�ve seen it before so I knew about all that. However, Momma duck wasn�t in the mood and she had ducklings to be concerned about. In the wild, out of a batch of 12 or so ducklings, only a couple live to maturity. Most are eaten by fish, birds and other creatures. In all the ruckus, Momma duck was separated from her babies while being pursued by about seven male ducks. Momma duck sent out a quacking alarm. Another mother duck came rushing to protect the babies while a bird (heron? egret?) swooped down to grab a baby. Mother duck got to the babies in time but left her babies unattended in the rush. As this duck drama played out, I suddenly realized that I was no longer people watching. I had been sucked into some sort of animal planet vortex and was DUCK WATCHING. Intensely. I was literally sitting on the edge of the bench, leaning forward and holding my breath. I think I even had my fingers crossed for the babies. Good lord, I need help. I got up and wandered around the park some and then set out to find the oh-so-infamous rose garden. I don�t really get all that excited about roses. The only thing I really like about them is their smell. Other than that, the flowers, leaves and form aren�t that interesting. And, there�s the whole thorn thing. The garden is impressive though and had some other, more pleasing, plants. The garden has markers which name all the different varieties of roses. And, let me tell you, some serious rose lovers go there with pen and paper to properly note the varieties they love/want. After checking out the more interesting plants and a few rose bushes, I spent time just sitting in the sun people watching. On my way out of the garden, I did note an interesting rosebush display. In one planter are the following varieties, in this order. Olympiad John F. Kennedy Lovely Lady Playboy I�d like to meet the gardener who put together that little arrangement. your thoughts? seed flower