Mary-Jo Vollrath

This is Mary-Jo Vollrath from Sheboygan, Wisconsin (pop. 49,929), she is 5'11" and weighs 120 pounds. As a young child, her grandfather taught her to work with tools and fix stuff, her grandmother taught her to knit and sew. When she finished high-school she realized that small town USA wasn't for her and she's ready for big city, Canada, so she moved to Toronto. She loved the city and made an OK living running a bike repair shop, working as a part time model and, at nights, as a bouncer in a downtown gay bar. All was fine until it wasn't and the thing what was going to happen, happened. Mary-Jo was in hospital for weeks and, when she was released, learned that she had irreparable damage to her neck and can only look downwards (some type of bad-ass stenosis). Nowadays she rarely leaves her studio and survives on Momofuku noodles (https://momofuku.com/toronto/) and Chablis. I go to see her about once a month and bring the "Extra Spicy Chili" flavor, family size and a bottle of Chablis. She doesn't let me take her picture, so here is a sketch I made.

A while ago, a friend went to a really fancy party and asked Mary-Jo to make her a dress. She killed! Everybody at the party asked "Girl, who you wearing?" and they beat a path to Mary-Jo's door. She  now makes 40 - 50 very expensive dresses a year, all hand made, all from high quality materials and has an order book extending months. A fashion writer for the "New York Thursday Supplement" gave her a fabulous review, here is a quote: "When you see a really beautiful dress floating rather than walking down the street, it must be a Mary-Jo Vee. Often, there is a gorgeous girl inside".

When I visit, I sit on a rug drinking her wine, biding my time and often talk turns to her life before and after. Mary-Jo shrugs and says "I am lucky to look down on the sky above"

As Many as it Takes

Of the mother and her child

Upon whom she warmly smiled

The child will truly need a hand

To walk a life that's straight, not bent

A mother's hand, may need one each

To teach them speech and and help them reach

So what's the mother then to do

When her duty's clear and true?

With mother's magic, shakes and bakes

She grows hands, as many as it takes 

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* original art (16X13, Oil on board) sold recently at a charity auction in Toronto

Dorothea Grainne Georgette (Geta) O'Clarcke

My friend Grainne (everybody called her Geta) died last week in circumstances currently unclear. She was a remarkable person of great talent, profound intellect, and incontrollable wit. She was born and grew up in Letterkenny, County Donegal, Ireland. After high school, she enrolled in the Atlantic Technological University earning an MSc. in General Technology. At the 2002 Irish Open, she met and fell in love with the Italian player Adriano Ferroferma. 

They were married in his hometown of  Rovigo. Her parents didn't like Adriano but were glad that Geta picked a Catholic. In Italy Geta observed women making tortellini and designed and built an AI tortellini maker that turned them out in mere minutes, always perfect. When she demonstrated it to her mother-in-law and all her neighbors there was a huge scandal and Adriano was told "Prendi la tua sporca puttana e vattene!". They moved back to Ireland, opened a tortellini shop, and built tortellini makers. Both sold extremely well, and they became rich. I kept in touch with Geta on video sessions and she used to tell me about her adventures with the three-and-a-half-minute egg. She was very particular about her breakfast egg,(see here how it is done properly:

Three and a half minute egg

Geta documented the outcome and comments. After her passing, Adriano sent me her notes to publish as an homage. Here are some of them:

"It is generally accepted that humans possess intelligence, the folks in your kitchen must be the exception if they cannot properly boil a three-and-a-half-minute egg"

"How stupid must you be to screw up a three-and-a-half-minute egg? THREE TIMES"

"Do they have a functioning brain? Maybe they can  then make a three-and-a-half-minute egg!"

"Can I see the chef? And ask him to bring his knife, I will teach him about a three-and-a-half-minute egg"

"What part of three and half minutes you don't get? Jump in the lake with this egg and take whoever made it with you"

"I hope whoever screwed up my egg has other redeeming qualities like a nice singing voice or is good in bed, otherwise I cannot see how they were hired in the kitchen"

"Whatever gave you the idea that I enjoy being the innocent victim of an incompetent kitchen that cannot even boil an egg?"

"Of course, I didn't eat it. I threw it on the floor to let everybody see the mess YOU made"

"Tell the imbecile who couldn't make a three-and-a-half minute egg that they are an imbecile who cannot make a three-and-a-half minute egg"

"I wonder if the person who cannot boil a decent egg was born a cretin or his mental state deteriorated due to repeated blows to the head?"   

"I have nerves of steel and an inexhaustible supply of sarcasm. I will send this abomination back and heap verbal vitriol on you until you get the egg boiled right. I just need more coffee.