Interaction Begins with A Warm Glazed Donut

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So it was my turn to supply the donuts. Bob Potter was so gracious for the last couple of weeks to furnish the donuts for our group at Laurel Mountain on Saturday mornings. I thought I better step up and stop at the Pie Shoppe in Laughlintown to get the warm, glazed donuts and they were received at our table in the lodge with enthusiastic smiles. You see, our group at Laurel interacts with several other groups to form what we lovingly call our little private club in the middle of the Laurel Highlands. As the group munched on the donuts and drank coffee waiting for the lift to open, our view of the Ligonier Valley was sunny and spectacular. I really look forward to being with our group on Saturday mornings not only to ski, but to chat about the pending conditions and the day ahead, and also to find out how everyone’s week went.

The interesting thing is that you can write about the good times at Laurel, post on Facebook which can give you a thumbnail sketch in time of what happens, but it is nothing like personally experiencing the skiing, the mountain, the employees and especially our friends. The interaction is wonderful and we all look forward to seeing each other.

Switching lanes a little bit, personal interaction seems to be waning these days. I am kind of old school in that I call my friends and make it a point to get together with them. Local friends and out of town friends too. If someone is sick I send a card or visit, in short, I believe that personal interaction is so crucial in maintaining friendships. You have to see someone face to face to really gauge their feelings. If they are happy or sad, you can see it if you are with them. Sure, you can text because it is quick, and you can post on Facebook for those who you don’t see often, but social media pales in comparison to seeing your friends smile when you personally interact with them. That is losing ground today. I see it in the workplace. I tell the young folks all the time, don’t send emails back and forth, if you have an issue, pick up the phone and talk to the person. I spent 21 years with my current company building relationships. I took the time to visit suppliers and distribution center purchasing contacts. I would take them to lunch and dinner, hack around a golf course with them, and even ski with a few of them. Most of them became my friends not just because of business, but because I cared about them. If there was an issue, we could talk about it, solve it, and move on. You don’t get that kind of relationship texting or emailing. I have developed long standing friendships in the business world because I made it a point to care about their issues and how we could service them better. They jokingly call me the Director of Happiness to this day. I may not be the brightest bulb in the halls of Armada Supply Chain Solutions, but I do care about our customers.

I recently took my son Jack, who is finishing up his MBA, to visit my friend Fred Kohun who is a long standing faculty member at Robert Morris University where Jack is studying. Fred took the time to show Jack a lot of pictures, memorabilia, and things of interest from all over the world in his office. At the end of the meeting, Fred remarked to Jack that the reason he spent the time to show Jack all of that was to tell him how important it is to network in the business world. Most of Fred’s success as a consultant, and faculty member, was because of interaction with people and networking all over the world in his career path. Not sure if that resonated yet with Jack, but like a lot of kids in his generation, they would do well to take a break from the Internet and social media and personally interact with people.

So, the group in the lodge at Laurel booted up as we polished off the box of donuts and coffee and sprinted for the trail as soon as the closed sign was lifted. Everyone was smiling and ready to attack the freshly groomed trails and slopes. It all started with anticipation of the day, the “Cheers” like atmosphere upon entry to the lodge, and the warm glazed donuts. You can’t text that experience. You have to be there to hang with whom Rus Davies lovingly refers to as Laurel Mountain characters. Go call a friend today and meet with them. Maybe someone you have not seen in a while? Use the phone app on your I Phone and take a break from social media. Your friends will appreciate doing things with you and seeing your smile in person. Thanks for reading.

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Several photos  courtesy of Rus Davies. Long time Laurel Mountain skier and enthusiast.

The Cinnamon Roll ( and it’s cousin- The Sticky Bun)

In my January 8th 2015 post, I told you about my plight as an acraphobic skier. I opened up and admitted that I am afraid of heights which is kind of strange for a skier. But I suffer through the aerial tram rides and chairlifts to get to the top. Now, I bare my soul again and reveal a hidden vice that due to my upbringing in Catholic guilt ridden hell, I must reveal. I am an addict. I am addicted to cinnamon rolls and sticky buns. o-1

Sadly, this aversion to healthy eating began with my wife’s grandmother Thelma Curren, who made hot, fresh sticky buns in the oven and called me over to my future in-laws house when they were ready. I was not a coffee drinker at the time, and prepared for the feast by bringing my own freshly squeezed orange juice and enjoying my own rack of buns with raisins. These were prepared especially for me much to the chagrin of my future brother in laws and my future wife Janet. How dare Mrs. Curren make Pat McCloskey his own batch. I loved every bite.

Fast forward to riding my road bike at the Jersey Shore. As I make my 50 mile round trip to Cape May and back to Avalon, I justify my stops at Mallon’s, which after much research, I found to have the best sticky buns at the Shore. I bring a rack back to my family who devours them with glee and then they tell me to never bring them back again. Their perpetual diets are sabotaged by this practice so after the first rack, I ride to Mallon’s and eat a rack by myself, sweating and stinking all over their outside bench. The minimum order is 6 buns and if I cannot inhale them all with a coffee, I sneak the rest back to the condo and hide them in the fridge. I make my way back from the beach feigning a bathroom break and sneak the buns out to the microwave an no one finds out. ocean-city

This helpless habit continues to this day on ski trips. I volunteer always to go to the grocery store after skiing and sneak a bun or a roll on the way back. I find the great bakeries. A weekly ritual in the winter, locally, is to stop on the way back from Laurel Mountain and eat a couple of cinnamon rolls from The Pie Shoppe in Laughlintown. Nothing makes the drive home easier than a coffee and a couple of rolls. o I used to bribe my son Jack to come skiing with me by enticing him with a visit to the Pie Shoppe and he always bit. Now beer is a more likely bait for him. But not for me. As much as I like my IPAs, I will take the buns and the rolls first and foremost.

Penn State people like my wife will extol the virtues of the grilled stickies from Ye Old College Diner in State College, Pa. These mass produced beauties are great grilled and can provide a doughy base in your stomach after an all star night on the town. ye-old-college-diner-stickies But something is lost on me with these buns when you can buy them in the local grocery stores as well as at the Diner. The fresh, warm bun or cinnamon roll right out of the oven in a great bakery cannot be beat. I know my health conscious friends are rolling their eyes at me now and even though I try to eat mostly healthy fare, I can’t help myself when tempted with these treats after a great ride or a ski day. But I know other people slip, like my chiropractor who is deeply into holistic health. Even he goes off the wagon here and there by buying a bag of cookies from Whole Foods and devouring them before he gets home. I outed you Ray. Guilty people love company.

The only justification for this aversion to healthy eating is my diligence in trying to pay for the indiscretion. I truly think in my mind that I can run off that bun or cycle off that roll. I will sweat like a dog trying to burn up that treat and in my mind, after a vigorous workout, I have paid the price. Only to be tempted again in a day or two and the whole vicious cycle of sin and penance begins anew. img_1547

As I have grown older, I have finally found the holy grail of cinnamon rolls dangerously close my home. The Bartram House Bakery has, hands down, the most delicious, cinnamon packed, warm doughy treat one could ever consume. It is so decadent that I find myself paying for it with an over extreme workout. Instead of being a connoisseur of the sticky bun and the cinnamon roll, I have become a common sewer with weekly stops. What am I supposed to do? This sweet toothed practice haunts me as I struggle to lead the healthy lifestyle. So there it is. I have outed myself, dropped my drawers and told you of the struggle that plagues me. I have come out of the closet much like a drinker and the first step to redemption is to admit it. But, chances are, you will catch me sometime with a smile on my face and icing all over my chin. Thanks for reading.