Whit's World: An international incident
1 Jun, 2008 By: Marty Whitford Landscape ManagementOne year ago, as I do every June, I picked up our good friend, Seamus Kearney, at the airport. A retired principal from Ireland, Kearney has been "coming across" for three weeks of Cleveland sunshine almost every summer for more than 25 years.
 Marty Whitford |
After picking up Kearney, we called my mom, with whom he stays. At my urging, in his best "worried foreigner" voice, Kearney told my mom he was stranded at the airport — that I was nowhere in sight. My mother fell for it, just as she did the year before. After letting Mom stew for five seconds, I grabbed back my cell phone.
"Mom, it's me. I can't believe you fell for it again," I said laughing. "I've got Seamus in the car, sitting right next to me. I'm taking him home to see Bridgid (my wife) and the kids. I'll drop him off later tonight."
After I hung up, the quiet Kearney smiled half impishly (deep down, a child at heart, I know he appreciates these antics almost as much as me) and half sheepishly (as a former principal, he happened to make a career out of curbing such childish behavior).
Kearney and I arrived at my house, and after a round of hugs we all agreed it was time to head to the local ice cream shop. It was pretty dark, about 10 p.m., by the time I pulled into the driveway to drop off my mom's guest. Carrying Kearney's big suitcase, I was a few steps behind him entering the side door.
Hmmm ... A new rug. Mom's spiffing up the place for the Irishman. ... Why is Seamus stopped at the top step into the kitchen?
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" a middle-aged man screams while running at us.
Who's this mad man in Mom's house?
Within inches of Kearney's face, the man yells, "Who the hell are you?" Shaking, the 120-pounder answers in a thick Irish brogue, "I'm Seamus, visiting from Ireland."
In a fog, I look behind the crazed man and receive a wake-up call. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry. We're supposed to be next door. I'm Pat Whitford's son."
As a tablesetter, the understanding man had been robbed six weeks earlier. Luckily, he doesn't have a gun — yet. (Note: I haven't mocked my mom for forgetting our annual airport pickup practical joke since I forgot which house was hers.)
The moral to the story? Pay attention: Confirm you're at the right homes and places of business before you begin work. We can't afford to give the media any more accidental chemical application stories. Nor do we have the time or resources to give away services. Also, have your crews give customers a heads-up on when you'll service their properties. Unexpected visitors usually don't have the luck of the Irish on their side.
Contact Marty at 216/706-3766 or e-mail at
mwhitford@questex.com
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