Grumpy opinions about everything.

Category: Reminiscence

What Is It About Ramps?

It is time for my annual reposting of the blog about ramps, a widely unappreciated source of air pollution in West Virginia.

For those of you who haven’t been blessed to live in Appalachia, ramps are a type of wild leek in the onion family. They have a very pungent flavor that is like a highly garlicky, sulfureous onion. They have a short season in the spring and are highly prized by those who enjoy them.

If you think politics can be contentious, you haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen the disagreements about ramps. You either hate ramps or you love ramps. There is no middle ground and almost no one is neutral on the subject.

Those unfamiliar with ramps might think, “If you don’t like them, just don’t eat them.” Well, it’s just not that simple. If you think garlic or onions can give you bad breath, just standby.

Ramps may give you the harshest breath that you’ve ever experienced. But that’s not the worst part. The odor of ramps will radiate from your body for several days. Despite much folklore about the best ways to rid your body of the odor, the only thing that works is the passage of time.

I can remember many years ago when I was in school, kids who would eat too many ramps sometimes would be sent home because the odor was just too much to bear in a closed classroom. There were times when I thought eating ramps might be worth it if I got a day off school. Ultimately, I decided maybe school wasn’t so bad.

The spring of my senior year in high school a buddy and I decided to go to Richwood for the annual ramp festival. Richwood sits in a river valley and as we started down the hill, we could see a haze hanging over the town. As we got closer to the festival site I was almost driven back. I grew up in a town with several chemical plants so I thought I was used to bad odors in the air, but was I ever wrong. The only thing that kept us going was free beer. We had both just turned 18 and could legally drink.

Even the federal government has declared ramps to be a public nuisance. The editor of the Richwood weekly newspaper once mixed ramp juice with the ink for a special edition. The smell was so bad the post office refused to deliver the paper and destroyed all the copies in its possession.

People who love ramps talk about the many ways to cook them. In the spring in West Virginia restaurants seem to continuously look for new ways to present ramps during the few weeks that they are available. They have ramp burgers, ramp pimento cheese, ramp jelly and ramp omelets. There has even been the misguided ramp infused wine. It seems to me that most recipes involve ways to disguise the flavor of ramps.

It’s not just when they’re cooked that they put off this objectionable odor. Even raw they can be hard to deal with. I was out in the country with my brother and his wife when she decided to pick some ramps (leaves only, the bulb is left to grow next year’s crop). Let me say I was glad we drove out separately. He said it was at least three days before the smell of ramps was cleared from the car. He joked that while ramps may not be grounds for divorce, they certainly could be grounds for temporary separation.

If you love ramps, I hope you enjoy them. Just make sure everyone else has enough warning to avoid you during ramp season. And that is The Grumpy Doc’s opinion about ramps. Be sure and leave a comment with yours.

Merry Old England

Decisions, Decisions
Margie and I got married in June of 1971. Shortly thereafter she received a check for her vested portion of retirement for two years of teaching. So, what should we do? Perhaps we should open a savings account. Or maybe, we could invest it.

Finally, starting a pattern that happily follows us through more than 50 years of marriage, we decided to take a trip. Since there was no internet, we went to a travel agent. We had to find a trip that would fit into the next seven weeks before the fall semester started. We were able to find a trip to the British Isles. It was high on Margie’s list because she’s always been fascinated with Stonehenge.

It was a long flight, though more comfortable than the flights now because the seats were larger and had more legroom. But still, that’s when we discovered Margie suffers significant west to east jet lag. Even now, we never plan anything for the first day of a trip to Europe. The transatlantic flights always seem to leave in the evening or early night. I suppose they think everyone will sleep on the way over. Since neither of us can sleep on the airplane, it’s directly to the hotel room for us.

England Swings (like a pendulum do)
Growing up in the 1960s we were heavily influenced by the British invasion beginning with The Beatles first US hit “I want To Hold Your Hand” in 1964. We couldn’t get enough of all things British, the music, the fashions, the haircuts and the slang. Mod was what the style was called, and Carnaby Street was the place to find it.

What a major disappointment! What had been the iconic epicenter of swinging London in the 1960s had become a tawdry, shabby looking street of overpriced gift stores and strung-out people by the 1970s. But it was still fun and there was more yet to see.

Fortunately, Carnaby St. wasn’t the only thing in London. Trafalgar Square, with the Nelson Monument, was a busy and fascinating place. We loved the Albert and Victoria Museum and the British Museum. I was especially fascinated with the Egyptian displays at the British Museum.

For me, a highlight of our visit to London was the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace. While we were there, we got to see a rare occurrence. The Coldstream Guards (think the big bear skin hats) were being deployed to Northern Ireland and the Royal Marines were taking over responsibility for guarding the palace.

A few random thoughts on London: I was struck at how unimposing 10 Downing Street is compared to the White House. It’s just a townhouse in the middle of the block with the door right on the street. Although, I suppose the appropriate comparison is to Buckingham Palace. We were surprised to learn that Big Ben is not the name of the large clock tower, that’s the Westminster Tower. Big Ben is the name of the bell that chimes the hours. The London tube (subway) was easy to use, as were the buses. It wasn’t until several years later when we visited Paris that I realized the ease of use was because the schedules were printed in English. I think it’s just part of our natural American inclination that everyone should speak English.

Touching History
We planned our trip to Stonehenge. It’s interesting that at the time there were no scheduled tours from London to Stonehenge. We had to arrange for a train trip to Salisbury, the nearest town. We bought our ticket on a standard English train. We had a first class ticket which gave us a private compartment. It was what we would now think of as the “Harry Potter train”. But in those pre-Potter days we thought of it as the “Murder on the Orient Express” train. I kept waiting for Hercule Poirot to show up in our compartment.

When we arrived at Salisbury we stopped at a shop for tea and biscuits. We asked how to get to Stonehenge. They told us to catch a local bus. There was a bus route with a stop that was about 100 or so yards from Stonehenge.

Surprisingly, there was no visitor center or gift shop at Stonehenge. There was a small pull-off where a few cars could park, but mostly it was just an open area. We walked from the bus stop to Stonehenge and were able to walk right up to the monument. We could walk around and touch the individual stones and we could have climbed on them had we desired. It’s amazing to think that we were able to be right in the middle of it since now the whole area is cordoned off so you can’t approach it and must view it from a distance.

We were lucky to go there at a time when it was still approachable. I have always marveled that preindustrial people were able to move and manipulate these massive stones. (Perhaps aliens really were involved.)

Touring the Rest of England
After more than 50 years it’s hard for me to remember the exact itinerary of the remainder of our tour in England. There are a few things that come to mind. Every village has a church, and they are all old, and when we were on a tour bus it seemed like we visited every one of them. It was a bit too much for us 20-somethings.

We stopped at a pub one evening, I don’t remember where or what we ate but I do remember what we had to drink. I ordered an English beer; I was a little hesitant since they come warm. I discovered they brew them to be drunk warm, and it was good. But what isn’t made to be drunk warm is Coca-Cola. Margie ordered a coke, and they brought her a glass, warm and right out of the bottle. She asked for some ice and the bartender gave her that look like, “Bloody Yanks,” and then disappeared into the back with the glass. He came back after what must have been 10 minutes with the glass in hand and a single cube of ice floating in it. He set the glass down with a self-satisfied look and pointed to it as if to say, “Here’s your bloody ice.”

I was surprised at how extensive the Roman occupation of Britain was. I was equally surprised how much of their influence remains. The Romans brought road building, city planning and many of the crops that were staples in England through the Middle Ages. They also introduced the Christian religion. Even the word Britain is of Roman origin.

One last thought about England before we head north to Scotland. We were touring through an area called the Lake District; a beautiful area that, according to our bus driver, was the honeymoon district of England. We stopped in a small village that he said was the most fertile village in England. And I think he was telling the truth; I have never seen so many baby buggies in one place. Maybe there’s something in the water.

On to Scotland!

1975: Adventures in Tokyo and Hong Kong

In our Changing world, one of the best parts of being a Grumpy Old Doc is wonderful memories!

Will We Find Each Other?
Margie and I hadn’t been together since February when I left for a 13-month unaccompanied tour with the Marine Corps in Okinawa. I took leave at Christmas time 1975 and Margie flew from Charleston, WV to Tokyo to meet me for the holidays. I went to the airport to meet her only to discover that her flight had been cancelled. Remember, there were no cell phones, e-mail, or texts. The airline didn’t know if she had been rescheduled or not or when she might arrive. After waiting through the last flight of the day, I decided to come back for the first morning flight.

I arrived at the airport the next morning to wait for the San Francisco flight. The Tokyo airport, like everything else in Japan, was very crowded. I was wondering how I would find Margie in that crowd, but it turned out not to be a problem. She was six feet tall and was literally head and shoulders above everyone else in the arrival area. I could see her from across the terminal.

Transportation In Japan
Fortunately, I had the hotel’s name written in Japanese on a piece of paper. I’m not sure we would have made it to the hotel had I not been able to show that paper to the cab driver. It was difficult to find a driver who spoke English. The cab ride to the hotel was fascinating; as we were absorbing the sights, the driver pointed to a McDonalds, then newly arrived in Japan, smiled, and said, “Big Mac-San.”

When we arrived at the hotel, we were greeted by the doorman who was wearing a top hat, white gloves, and a morning coat. He opened the door and smiled and said “Hi ya Joe”. That was the only thing he ever said to us in English the whole time we were there. He was about the right age to have been a young boy during the American occupation right after World War II. I suspect that’s where he learned that phrase and it was probably the only English he knew. But I don’t even know that much Japanese.

Japanese public transportation was also quite an experience. There’s no lining up to get on or off buses or trains. As soon as the doors open everyone rushes in or out. Margie is always trying to be polite and to let other people go ahead. I tried to tell her we would never get on if she kept deferring to everyone else. When the doors of the train opened, I got behind her and just pushed her on board.

I found this behavior by the Japanese to be strange given what I thought was excessive politeness about everything else and every other encounter we had in Japan. We even had a salesclerk apologize to us because we thought the price was too high on something we were considering. The only thing that I can think of is that public transportation was not a one-to-one personal encounter but was more of a group event and didn’t require the same degree of civility.

An Unusual Photo Op
There was one interesting thing about being so tall in Japan. We were walking together when a Japanese man came up to us with his camera, pointed to it, and said something. I thought he was asking us to take his picture. But he quickly turned around handed his camera to a friend and then, stood between us to have his picture taken with the big, tall Americans; his friend followed suite. It’s nice to think that our pictures are somewhere in a Japanese family’s photo album.

Christmas, Japanese Style
Christmas is a big deal in Japan, but it has no religious connotations. It is strictly a commercial holiday. Neon snowflakes and candy canes and Santa Clauses were everywhere. Needless to say, we did a little Christmas shopping while we were there.

This was the most unique Christmas Eve we have ever spent. We had dinner in a French restaurant in a Japanese hotel. After that we went to a movie in a Japanese theater. We saw the Steven Spielberg film “Jaws”. It was in English with Japanese subtitles. They don’t have popcorn in Japanese movie theaters (at least they didn’t then). We had Tangerines and sushi rolls.

On To Hong Kong!
From Tokyo we flew to Hong Kong. We stayed in a little more upscale hotel than I had on my first trip; on my second trip I stayed on board ship. I was determined that our reunion trip was going to be first class and we stayed at the Hong Kong Hilton. It was a beautiful place and had a Rolls Royce fleet parked in front. Of course, they weren’t there for our use. Apparently, a lot of very wealthy people stay there.

Shop ‘Till You Drop
Hong Kong was literally a shopper’s paradise. You could go bankrupt saving money! The exchange rate was about six Hong Kong dollars to one U.S. dollar. It seemed to us that things were really cheap; we just divided the price by six. You bargained for everything, even a pack of gum. We bought a lot of gifts and souvenirs and thoroughly enjoyed this new (to us) style of shopping.

Rug Shop, Lower Right Hand Corner.

Finally, a potential major purchase caught our fancy. While window shopping at a carpet store, we noticed one of the most beautiful rugs we had ever seen and maybe the most beautiful we will ever see. It was a deep crimson hand-woven rug known as the five-dragon rug. There was a large dragon in the center and a smaller dragon in each corner. We stood there looking at it and trying to figure how we could fit it into our living room. The price on it said $5000. Thinking it was Hong Kong dollars, we decided if shipping wasn’t too much, we should just go for it. We went in and asked the clerk exactly how much the price was in U.S. dollars to start the bargaining. He looked back at me and said “$5000 US, firm”. (Just to put it in perspective, my annual salary at the time was $9500.) So, of course you know there is no five-dragon rug in our living room, although I still regret not having figured out some way to make it work.

Eating Out And A Lesson Not Learned!
Despite my experience with bitter melon and pigeon, we decided to try for a real Chinese dinner. (I can be a slow learner.) We were advised to look for a restaurant where there were few or no westerners in the dining room and where the women were playing mahjong.

We found our restaurant and it looked good. Most of the restaurants where we had eaten served ala carte where we ordered dishes individually and they were served in small bowls that we shared. The menu had very little English and none of the typical Chinese restaurant dish names that we recognized. We found out much later that such staples of western Chinese restaurants as Chop Suey and General Tso’s Chicken were not actually of Chinese origin. Our most popular “Chinese” dishes would be a mystery in China.

There was one waiter who spoke limited English. I would point to something, and he would explain it to us as best he could, and we would decide whether or not to order it. We ordered a number of dishes expecting they would all come in small bowls that we would share.

We should have been suspicious when the waiter came and set up a folding table beside us. He then proceeded to load the table up with several large serving bowls. It seems this restaurant served family style.

Each bowl held enough food for somewhere between four and six people and we had seven bowls. As if having all this food on a table beside us wasn’t enough, the staff then lined up behind the table to watch the big Americans eat. Well, we gave it our best effort, but we couldn’t get through even a small amount. We took a little sampling from each and left most of it. (We both hoped that someone would be able to use the leftovers.) We had several more days in Hong Kong but never ventured into another Chinese restaurant.

A Trip Ending Too Soon
Reluctantly, we parted in Hong Kong. Margie flew back to West Virginia and her classroom. Fortunately, her return trip was less eventful than coming over. I headed back to Okinawa for the rest of my tour. We had a wonderful two weeks and would be together again in three months. We are both thankful we never had to be apart that long again.

We hope you also have wonderful memories of bygone trips and adventures. And, there’s more yet to do!

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