Good-byes: Quick or Lingering

JENN McKINLAY: Good-byes. I’m terrible at them. I’m not sure why but I think it has something to do with my XX chromosomes because I know I am not alone in this lingering at the train station until the last possible second and then having to run and execute an undignified skirt in the air leap to catch the train because talking about the incoming weather is so much more important than, you know, actually getting my butt on the train.

I was at a conference years ago where I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning with my writer buddies talking like we were solving all of the world’s problems - we were not - when we finally called it a night, or rather a day, since the sun was coming up.

Do you think we managed to mumble ‘good night’ and part? Oh, no, we stood there sagging on our feet, trying to figure out when we’d meet up the next day at the conference just to say good-bye, because it was the last day and we were all headed home. This went on for fifteen minutes when I finally looked at my gal pals and said, “If we were dudes, we’d just knuckle bump and say ‘see ya’ and it’d be cool.”

This inability to end things extends to my relationships as well. I am the queen of the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ talk. I’m so good at it, in fact, I think there are a few people out there who aren’t even aware that we’ve broken up. Again, I blame the XX. Hub, like all manimals, has the XY and I suspect the Y stands for “Why are we still here talking when we could be gone already?” or “Why is this person calling me? We were done ages ago. Was I not clear?” I tried to explain that my ineptitude in adios is really a disability. He didn’t get it. Ghosting from social events was created for this man.

I have struggled with endings my entire life -relationships, jobs, even some friendships. But now that I've reached a certain age, I have discovered that there’s an upside to saying good-bye swiftly. Once you get over it, you get to say hello to something new! Say it with me now: “Hello, exciting new adventure!”

Now I could be a scaredy-cat and worry that I won’t like the next job, friendship, or career move as much as the one I'm leaving. And I could refuse to try something new and keep my life exactly the same. But life is just too short not to do what you love with whom you love in a place that you love. So here’s my unsolicited advice, because I’m so good at giving it but not taking it - unless by force - figure out what you need to do to say good-bye to the old and GO FOR THE NEW!

So, how about you, Reds and Readers, are you good at good-byes and making changes or not so much?

End of an Hair-a (Get it? Hair-a instead of Era?)

JENN McKINLAY I married into my hair stylist. I know it sounds weird, but Ben the hair wizard started cutting the Hub's hair when Hub was eighteen. Hub is just shy of sixty now so that's a very long relationship between a man and his hair guy. When I married the Hub, Ben became my hair wizard, too. Naturally, when the Hooligans came along, they got their first haircuts with Ben and remained his clients until they moved away from home. 

A few months ago, Ben told us he and his wife Barb, also a hair stylist, were retiring. We were thrilled for them but a bit bereft for us. We have known them for decades. We didn’t even have to explain the cut  or in my case the color that we wanted, because they knew. Getting a haircut at Ben and Barb's was like visiting family. I even wrote them into one of my books WAIT FOR IT.

Hub and I had our final haircuts with them last week, and it was a surprisingly emotional experience even though I know we'll see them again at one of Hub's gigs or when we get together at their place up north. Still, it was the end of an hair-a and I'm pretty bummed.

How about you, Reds, have you ever had to say good-bye to a professional that you've known forever -- hairdresser, mechanic, accountant -- an wondered, well, shoot, now what am I going to do?

LUCY BURDETTE: That’s a long hair relationship! I hate when that happens! Here’s the thing I dread the most: losing my dental hygienist. Trudy’s been taking care of my teeth since I moved to New Haven in 1984 and she does the best job. She’s a little older than me, so it wouldn’t be unreasonable for her to retire…but I beg her every time I see her and she assures me all is well. We know all about each other’s families, and we chat about books and Broadway shows, even though it’s not that easy to talk with your mouth full of equipment. She stops in at all my Connecticut booksignings. Oh Trudy, please don’t leave me!

HALLIE EPHRON: Recently my primary care physician retired. My first criteria, aside from competence, was AGE! I wanted someone much younger than me. My new PCP is just a few years out of medical school.

Youth was my #1 criteria when I had to be assigned a new editor at HarperCollins. (Sadly, publishing houses are known for laying off their oldest and most experienced editors.)

I also miss my mechanics – brothers (Brian and Greg) and before them their dad (Mr. Egan) who owned my local Sunoco station. I’d put them in one of my books and brought over a signed copy.

Marching into the future, kicking and screaming.

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Oh, Jenn, this is SUCH a thing! First, my primary care physician retired, she was so great, and we had been together for gosh, so many years? I mean, I know I got older, but she was not allowed to. Think of the history.  She’s seen me go from 36 to 76. I mean–that is a process! 

The replacement is a version of how the original was, she’s fine.  But it’s a different relationship. Although she probably knows newer things–I guess. What’s “standard” is certainly different, for better and for worse.

My dentist recently informed me he was retiring, too, SHEESH. And he is enthusiastic about the person who is taking over the practice. “You’ll love her,” he says. We shall see.

And yeah, even my dermatologist, who is famous and fabulous? Yup, gonzo in three months.

But if my hair guy retires, I’m just going to stay out of the public eye for the rest of my life. Clearly there is no other option.

RHYS BOWEN:  I am still in recovery mode from my hairdresser going back to Thailand with no warning after twenty plus years. I’ve tried two people since. Both disappointing. I may have to fly to Thailand!  And my doctor is getting on in years too. John’s is retiring at the end of the year and a new, young concierge is double the price.  If my house cleaner stops working I’ll be in despair!

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Jenn, losing your hair person is the worst! Or quitting your hair person. I stopped going to my long-time stylist, who was also a friend, during covid, when she wouldn’t get vaccinated. And then, when I’d cut my own hair for a year (argh) it would have felt really weird to go back, as well as still unsafe. So I found a new stylist, who has since moved to another salon and I drive 30 minutes to get my hair cut!

But the worst is losing your primary care doctor. Ours, who had been our doctor for 18 years, moved to Missouri last year. He was also a neighbor, and he even made housecalls! We miss him so much. The new doctor is very nice but it takes years to build a relationship.

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: You may have noticed my hair is always up in a bun these days. I'm hoping it makes me look like a stern Latin professor at a women's college in Oxford, but I fear it really just reads "Granny who makes biscuits." The reason I haven't cut it is because during the pandemic my hairdresser, whom I had found after going from place to place for several years, left the state! The nerve of her, to go get married and move in with her new husband.

I've been waiting for the energy to find a new stylist, but honestly, I found the right place to get my Shih Tzus groomed, and that may be as far as it goes. (The groomer is only in his twenties; I'm hoping  the dogs and I will all be in the ground before he retires.)

How about you, Readers? Have you lost any professionals in your life that you can't replace?

Change for the good...

 HALLIE EPHRON: Every so often something changes for the better.

Used to be that when you took the train from Boston to New York City, you ended up in Penn Station. Crowded dark and depressing, it was in the bowels of Madison Square Garden.The bathrooms were gross and often out of order. Its one redeeming feature was a truly superb deli where you could get authentic tasting corned beef on the right kind of mustard on the right kind of rye bread with potato salad that was outstanding. I wish I knew the name of that place.

Now your train ride starts and ends in a building across the street from Madison Square Garden, Moynihan Train Hall. It is spectacular, vast, light and airy, plenty of seating while you wait, and now that the food court has opened it’s pretty near perfect. Though I miss that deli.

Originally the city’s main post office, the building was known as the James A. Farley Building. It ​​was among the first protected as a landmark under preservation laws created in wake of the destruction of its sister structure, the original Penn Station.

In your neck of the woods, what’s something in the landscape that’s changed… for the better?

DEBORAH CROMBIE: On a very, very micro level, our city is putting in accessible sidewalks on both sides of the two one-way main thoroughfares that run from the freeway to the town square, one of which we live on (although we face the cross street.)

This is great for so many reasons; making the neighborhood more walkable, a huge improvement in aesthetics, and for us, people no longer walking through our yard because they couldn't be bothered to cross the street to the partial sidewalk on the other side.

Downside, they're tearing out half of one of our big berms, and have broken our irrigation system. But c'est la vie, I'm sure it will all be sorted in the end.

RHYS BOWEN: Something has been changing in both places where I live. A once vibrant shopping mall has been torn down and is being replaced by multi-functional buildings–apartments or condos above retail, restaurants and with walking paths, bike paths, green areas. More like original towns used to be and everything walkable and close to public transport.

The other improvement in Marin County is the SMART rail system that links Sonoma County with the ferry to San Francisco. I’m afraid it’s not used as much as it should be but perhaps it will catch on eventually. I have yet to ride it even though it's free to over 65s.

JENN McKINLAY: When I first moved to Phoenix downtown was a wasteland. No one went down there to hang out. Other than a few bars that served patrons before and after sporting events, there wasn’t much to do.

Then someone started First Fridays, which is essentially an art walk that has bloomed into so much more. Slowly, things began to change and now downtown is quite the hotspot. My favorite area being the Roosevelt district where there’s loads of restaurants, art galleries, and live music venues.

Sometimes change is wonderful.

LUCY BURDETTE: Things are always changing in Key West and I often think these changes are a mistake. I am often wrong. For example, the city built a giant amphitheater a few years ago on the waterfront. Bah humbug, we said. A waste of money, they won't use it! But they do use it, all the time, for many different kinds of events.

Ditto with the brand new Truman Waterfront Park. John and I poo-pooed it, but it turned out to be lovely and heavily used.

So I guess the lesson here is don't ask me!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Lucy, I’m like you; I tend to be very suspicious of change. Although, even I had to admit replacing the creepy old motel and empty trash-collecting lot on the Portland/Westbrook line with a Market Basket and some other great stories was a vast improvement.

The best change in my community has happened over the past 10 or 12 years. Portland has been the locus for a lot of immigration and refugee resettlement, which has brought a lot of exciting and much needed diversity to our area. We have far more interesting shops, restaurants, and  neighbors than we used to!

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN:  One of the things that’s happened in our neighborhood, and all around Boston, is outdoor dining. When Covid threatened restaurants' very existence, they got wise and moved their tables outside.

Now, as soon as the season begins, restaurants take over the sidewalks and allow diners to eat outside. They have tried to outdo each other with gorgeous settings, trellises festooned with flowers, and flowering trees, and heaters and canopies and umbrellas, and all kinds of things to make it festive.  

In an adjacent town, they’ve closed off the main street which is lined by restaurants, and now it is a pedestrian area. It’s like a big festival every weekend, with everyone eating outside and strolling.

There are downsides to it, I know, parking is curtailed, (for better or for worse), and local merchants who are not restaurants say it has affected their businesses.

But it is such a wonderful way to feel that the community is open again.

On the other side, someone build a house next door to ours. We had a huge open space on one side of our house, a green lawn, and the owner of it sold it, and now there is a house. It has inspired me to maybe write a novel about it. And not a happy one. :-)

HALLIE: I'm sensing a theme here: public walkable spaces. So what about your neighborhood, what's changed for the good? And are you a converted fan or did you anticipate how good it would be?

Losing life's local landmarks...

 

HALLIE EPHRON: Recently I walked over to pick up my car at the gas station where I take my car for gas and servicing, and have for the last 30-plus years. Always and forever full serve, they *never* had a self-serve pump.

Brian Egan, one of two brothers who own the station, pulled me aside and told me they were retiring. They'd sold the station and next week, new owners would take over. He wanted to be sure to get a chance to say good-bye.

I was in tears. Seriously, I know I know. It's only a gas station. But it was one more loss of the familiar and trusted, one more landmark that made home feel like HOME. 

When we moved here decades ago we were driving a truly awful mustard-yellow Pinto station wagon. We thought it needed new tires so we brought it to the closest station and met Brian and his brother Gregg’s dad. AKA MR. EGAN. Who told us we did not need new tires.

Since then we've never taken our cars anywhere else--whether it was for gas, oil change, tires, or transmission. Always confident that whatever they told us needed to be done to the car, really did need to be done.

Whenever I’ve needed to write a gas station into my novel, I immortalized the Egans. And brought over a copy of the book when it was published.

I was thinking about the Egans earlier this week when there was a team from our local tree service in my yard trimming my humongous maple tree in hopes that next time we get a mini-cyclone, a branch doesn’t come crashing down on my garage roof. One of the sons of the owner lives across the street, and we’ve watched their kids grow from blanket wrapped bundles to tall-and-gangly teens. Fingers crossed, they'll outlive me and my trees.

I rely on locals whenever I can. If I need an electrician I start by calling the brother of another neighbor. Our roofer lives nearby, too. The landscaper I rely on is up the nearest hill. 

They’re about to tear down my local Seven-Eleven and for a year we’ve missed the former owner, a sweet guy who employed most of the neighborhood kids and knew Jerry from the many years when he walked over to that store at least once a week to buy milk.

Meanwhile, seems like every time I turn around, another local landmark is getting bulldozed and the businesses and their people close up shop and move on. I wonder if it's all bunched together because of Covid? Or maybe it FEELS like it's all bunched up because of Covid? Or maybe is it just the natural result of Boomers retiring? 

Is change overtaking your neighborhood, too, and how's that working out for you?