Speech

My dad has to be the most confident person I've ever known.  He carries himself well, dresses impeccably for any occasion, and makes heads turn when he enters a room.  He is that charismatic!!  I was telling him how typing and speech were two classes that really helped me in "life" through continuing education.  His reaction was to say that speeches are really not difficult at all.  You have to know the subject of which you are speaking and speak with confidence.  He could change the minds of General Motors executives in the blink of an eye.  He knew his business, how to make it succeed, and had no problem telling "higher ups" that his method was better and he would prove it to them as evidenced in sales.  He has a fun sense of humor and would sometimes just go to give a speech and end up having a question answer session.  He might start out by saying something like:  "I know everything you need to know, so ask away".   He knew his stuff, it worked and he shared his information with so many people.  He would not, and will not let a room full of people change the way that he thinks.  He would just tell them: "you do it your way, let me do it mine, and we will let the end of the month speak for itself".  Dad would be right in the end.
He still has friends in the car business that he has known for 50 years. He still worked when he retired for quite some time.  I wouldn't think of purchasing a car without dad.  He will still talk "shop" to my brother and other salesmen when we are at a party. Yes, some friends he has known for years and they are dear friends.  I see the love that he shares with employees he has known.   One thing I remember dad saying is that many salesmen just don't know when to be quiet.  That is so true.  I can't tell you how many in home parties where the sales people just won't be quiet.  Sometimes I want to say, "Just be quiet for a second so we can look, touch, and read about the products.  We don't know if we have any questions, because we can't think with all of your talking!!".  I even tried a stint at selling home products.  I will admit that I did not share my dad or brothers talent for sales.  Dad said that I had to be an expert in the products I was selling. Although I enjoyed my products, I certainly did not know everything about them.  Oh well.  I did try to sell for a few years.  It's not for me though.  Perhaps writing will be my forte.

Cars

My dad, now 83 has been in the car business for at least 50 years. When he retired, it was time for cell phone and pager to continue his work. He was as busy as ever, but didn't wear a suit every day.   He has taught so many people the art of selling cars, dealing with people, etc... that I couldn't begin to count how many.  My dad can read people like a book and is very intuitive when it comes to handling people and situations where everyone is happy with the result, yet dad gets HIS desired outcome. When I was growing up, I don't ever remember mom and dad owning a car.  Dad usually drove a demo home.  I remember one time that my mom and I went to a local mall and drove a car that dad had at home.  After our shopping and chatting, we came out to the parking lot.  I asked my mom if she remembered where we parked.  In turn, she asked me if I remembered what kind and color of car we were driving.  I must say we have a great sense of humor, and I remember to this day how much we laughed about that episode.  Mom knew that if she ever did own a car, it was always "for sale"!  The last car my mom owned, she absolutely forbid him to sell it!   Over the years, it was not uncommon to have a few cars in the driveway.  I never knew if mom and dad had company, or if dad had cars waiting to deliver to someone.  It was his niche in life and he has taught GM a few things or two with many presentations.  My dad knows so many people in the car business, and trained so many people that he is my number one "go to" person when it comes to anything about cars.  He has a friend that has a dealership that he has known since high school.  Needless to say, when it comes to purchasing cars, my dad is right there with me.  After all, he probably invented many of the "wheels and deals"!!  My brother has also inherited a love for cars as well as the ability to be a wonderful salesman!  I'm tempted to go into the dealership where he works and ask for the best looking salesman!  HAHA!  My brother would get a kick out of that for sure.  Always being around different cars, and having two older brothers, I inherited a love for cars.  I drove a jeep in college and a sporty Mazda RX-7 for a bit.  I even learned how to drive a manual transmission and really missed it after driving one for about 7 years.  I missed it a lot until I found it was more fun to drink my cup of coffee than shift gears.  Stop and go traffic in the Atlanta area was really a pain for a manual transmission, not to mention that the office where I worked, had to have the steepest hill EVER!! I can't tell you how many times I would curse the people behind me for getting on my bumper!  I managed to never have any snafus though...thank goodness!   When my children were young and up until they had their own cars, I drove practical vehicles.  Accord and civic were my cars of choice.  After my sons were grown, it was time to drive what I really wanted.....a convertible!! Yes, a two seat convertible with nothing practical about it!  Since it is my only vehicle, I tell people that it actually does save me money!  If I can't fit it in my car, then I can't purchase it.  Dad and I are so much alike.  At 83, he is driving a convertible too. I'm going for it, don't care if it's not practical, don't care what people say....It's my car and I enjoy feeling the sun and wind as I drive.  I'd have a motorcycle too, but my dad would not be at all pleased.  I just have to find friends who own them so I can go on a ride on occasion.

Omelets

There is nothing I enjoy more than chatting with my family. The topics are quite varied and always interesting. Depending on who is there, conversations can be quite revealing at times. One day, we had about 8 of us sitting around the kitchen table. The conversation started with someone mentioning that dad always put mom's initials in cheese on any omelet that he made for her. I can't tell you how many omelets dad made for her over the years. Each omelet had her initial of C on it. Her name was Christina. I honestly don't remember if he put the last initial on it or not. My uncle, looking to start an argument with his siblings, stated that he made the best omelets in the world. He proceeded to tell how he made them. I think he put milk with the egg. Of course dad disagreed. The debate of the omelet was now in full force. My cousin chimed in with her "you guys have it all wrong" and shared her cooking method. I had heard enough and couldn't resist the temptation to say that I made the best omelet!! Being that I love any kind of egg, I had to pipe in with my response. I never put milk with my egg, but just add a teaspoon of water per egg. I have no idea why I do this, but I do. When ever I make an omelet, I am reminded of my time living in Paris. I would watch the lady with whom I shared her townhouse, cook an omelet. Only a Frenchman can make cooking a simple omelet worthy of a true art show!! Yes, there is a particular method to cooking them. I remember watching her and know how she cooked the omelet. I must admit that I can make the most fluffy 2 egg omelet that you have ever seen. The Greeks probably use olive oil in their pan, dieters may use a cooking spray and egg whites, one uncle may use vegetable oil, and another margarine. I must say that I only use real butter for my omelets! I can't remember the last time I even purchased margarine...I just don't like the taste. One thing I remember is that you don't want the omelet to brown. You have to watch it carefully so that it doesn't get brown. So deciding what kind of pan to use, to what kind of cheese and oil, we can have a conversation lasting an hour on one topic. So until we have a contest with all of us making omelets, I'll just say that my dad makes the best ones. I was at his house one day and he made an omelet for me. True to form, there was a letter "L" on top of the omelet with cheddar cheese!

Language

When I was a little girl, my grandfather lived with us for quite a few years. He spoke English with a heavy Greek accent and if you didn't know him, you couldn't understand him. I learned a little Greek from him, but not enough to carry on a conversation. It was an entirely different story when dad was a young boy. Greek was spoken at home. Of course, Dad learned English at school as well as on the streets. Living in a Greek community, the language as well as the foods from home were all around him and his siblings. He even said that there were so many Greeks on the football team that they would speak Greek as they lined up for the play. I'm sure that could come in handy when time was short!

As well as going to American school, Dad and his siblings had to go to Greek school in the afternoons. Education was important to his family. Dad said that one day it was announced that there was no school on the radio. Dad told his mother, but she insisted that he had to go to school. Off they walked through the icy snow covered streets of Atlanta to the school. When they got to the school, there was a note posted on the door. His mother asked what it said... Exasperated, Dad said, "mama, it says there is no school today because of the snow!!". They went back home as proof of no school was on the door!!

After a day of school, Greek School, and a job, I'm sure that dad slept well.

When I went to Greece with my parents, it was fun to travel in a foreign country where my dad was at home with the language. Speaking was the easy part, and somewhat amusing for the natives to hear it with a peculiar accent of America. How that happened, I don't know as his parents came to the U.S. in their 20s. He said that the reading was becoming easier the more he stayed in Greece. One of his sisters can speak, read, write, type, and probably take shorthand in Greek too. With my little knowledge of Greek, I can be quite amusing in my attempts at Greek. If I were in Greece, I could be polite, exchange pleasantries, order food, and goodness knows I could even cuss at someone if necessary! My poor friend's mom thought her child was learning Greek, when in actuality, she was cussing in English with a heavy Greek accent. Papa cussed like a sailor, but we children didn't. How that happened, I'll never know. At least he would be polite and say: "Excuse me ma'm, but that somavabiches....." . One day, I hope to study the language. I have my books at the ready to get the sounds of the letters! Every time I give kindergarten kids flash cards, I think that I need some Greek flash cards too!

My dad

My dad has always been "dad" to us!! A coach, support person extraordinaire, and whatever else we needed, dad was (and is) there for us. He has many names from others: Pete, Paniayotis(Greek for Pete), Mbarico (from his childhood buddies), Panayo, and of course "dad". He is the first generation of Greek immigrants from the Kalamata area of Greece. Greek was his spoken language at home and he would get in trouble for speaking English (his parents didn't understand, so he spoke Greek at home). He quickly learned the English language and was paid a nickel to help one of his friends learn English.

Today, he told me that his aunt would bring hand-me-down clothes to their home for the children to wear. They were a poor family living in the Pryor Street/Central Ave. area of Atlanta. It was a nice size Greek community with the church on Pryor Street. Today, he told the story that when he was in the 5th grade his mama made him wear some hand-me-down knickers (golf pants below the knee) to school. Needless to say, he was mortified, yet had to wear them as there were no choices really (and what mama said, you did). He was afraid that the other kids would laugh or make fun of him (which wasn't an unusual occurrence for all of the Greek children of immigrants). It was a few days after that when my dad went to his uncles soda fountain store and became gainfully employed! He hasn't quit working since and he thanks his mom for making him wear those gosh darn pants!! It's why he has such a strong work ethic.

Dad and my uncle went to the principal of their school and told him that they would wash the dishes in return for lunch at school. The principal asked if they knew how to operate the machine and both boys nodded enthusiastically (they had no idea how to operate the machine, but being fast learners, they found out in a hurry). So, meals in exchange for washing dishes!!

Working at the soda fountain, gave dad the opportunity to fine tune his math skills. He has been adding/subtracting numbers in his head since he was a child. One teacher would have a math problem of the day and which ever student could get the answer would get a nickel or dime (depending on the difficulty). Needless to say, dad was able to get quite a bit of change. Most of his earnings went to the family fund. If the family needed money for food, it came from anyone that was working in the family. I did not inherit my dad's gift for numbers and he always helped me with my math homework. Dad will never forget the day that my third grade teacher sent home the note that read: "Please do not help Lisa with her homework. We are learning the "new" math." Dad had the correct answers and could probably do any math problem faster than my teacher. In his 80s now, dad will still add items in his head when a clerk scans them. He thinks it's fun (my worst nightmare).

I do have a strong work ethic too and have always been a saver of money. I started baby sitting in elementary school and I would save my money (...so my brothers could borrow a few bucks HAHA). Dad taught me a lot about saving money, not spending foolishly, yet saving so that I can enjoy the things I do want to purchase. He has come a long way from being a soda "jerk" and has enjoyed the fruits of his labor.