Welcome to the Renton Reporter’s first podcast!
We’re looking to branch out a bit and try new things and we’d like to present what we hope will be the first in new podcast series featuring our very own columnist Carolyn Ossorio, the Pippimama.
You know Carolyn from writing columns for us here at the Reporter and she’s game to try something new that we hope you’ll like.
We’re not entirely sure of the final format will be for Carolyn’s podcast, but we know it will be her interviewing interesting people and newsmakers here in Renton.
For her first podcast, Carolyn sat down with Renton Mayor Denis Law to discuss the upcoming Sound Transit 3 ballot measure and what it means for Renton, as well as his plan to move the transit center to the corner of Grady Way and Rainier Avenue South.
So give it a listen and let us know what you think!
“Hey, Carolyn, how’s your mom?! She still working at the salon?” Ted asks as he jags up to the butcher counter. He has a compact frame and is always moving with intensity.
Not the random chaos of say, a chicken with its head cut off, Ted is THE supreme commander of his domain: Shawn & Ted’s Quality Meat Market.
“Good, good,” I say. “She’s not working at the salon anymore, but helping a lot around our house these days,” I add.
Normally, I avoid small talk like the handle of the grocery store restroom.
It’s repugnant to me because it usually feels forced and insincere. I realize it’s a necessary social norm to the alternative of living off the grid with squirrels for friends or Starbucks in Alaska. I know that seems harsh, but really, who enjoys small talk?
An example: There’s a coffee shop I purposely avoid (of course Karma designs that it’s my husband’s favorite coffee shop) because the barista has referred to me as Caroline for the last 10 years AND because during a “serving” of small talk, he said, “You know I always think of you and your husband whenever I watch that show Mike and Molly … because you’re a writer and she’s a writer.”
For me, eating fish and chips is like eating a great burger — if I’m going to go for it, I want it to be the best deep fried fish and chips I’ve ever eaten in my life, otherwise, to paraphrase Mr. T: I pity the fool who disappoints.
Recently, my husband and I went on a date to try the fish and chips at a local restaurant for this month’s column. With five kids, date night takes on biblical proportions, so after securing a babysitter, our expectations were running pretty high.
So I felt conflicted when I ordered fish and chips and they were horrible. I mean, the fish was literally rotten.
Everything was going great, the service was excellent, clean, inviting environment, wide beer selection, wonderful appetizers. They had gotten everything right but that one thing. And serving rotten food is a big deal.
I stewed about it for days afterward.
On the one hand, I never want to write bad stuff about a restaurant. Unless it’s a travesty of justice, why be a jerk? I can always walk away; no harm, no foul. We live in America where there is always another choice.