An Eccentric Version of a Party Store

His office is spotless; everything is in its clearly specified place, including the toothbrush and toothpaste lying atop the filing cabinet. There is only one chair in the office and he can not seem to find an extra, so we stand for the duration of our conversation. Eye contact is minimal and the dialogue is short. Habib Mandwee sits on the edge of his desk and explains that it was “just a coincidence” that his brother, Saad Mandwee, and he have been a part of the retail liquor industry for twenty-five years.

What began as a temporary business venture developed into not only one of the most well known liquor stores in Kalamazoo, but a premier destination for visitors of western Michigan. Tiffany’s Wine and Spirit Shoppe is highlighted on several websites where customers rave about their extensive product selection and their experiences, “I talked to the man who was working and he gave me the run down on what just came in, what sells like wildfire and some of his favorites for this season. He was a great help and a beer fan himself.” Customers would never know that Habib Mandwee claims his product selection is modestly due to “common sense” while attending trade shows and that he “doesn’t even know what they all taste like.”

The pickled asparagus selection and the jar of Rosenburg Danish blue cheese in oil are not typical products of your average college-town booze store, nor expected products of a manager with such a cavalier attitude.

The $14,090.98 Courvoisier bottle sits indistinctly in a glass case with a hand-written sign “Sorry… not for sale.” Mandwee nonchalantly admits that this bottle is part of an eight piece collection that sells for over $150,000, sold more as a “piece of artwork than as liquor.”

Smells of alcohol, hummus and falafel blend together. The small deli seems out of place in the midst of the large liquor store, as if Tiffany’s had mastered the art of alcohol retail and were attempting to capitalize on their opportunity to sell authentic middle-eastern delicacies. An unexpected and somewhat awkward blend of savory gourmet foods, fresh coffee beans ready to be ground and hundreds of liquor bottles. An $80 bottle of Le Collection Elite Vodka takes the form of a sassy, strappy, glass sandal and is gawkily juxtaposed next to an assortment of $400 cognac bottles. The endless amount of liquor brands, mixers and international beers overwhelms before the wine selection is even visible.

A two part staircase leads shoppers downstairs to a low-ceilinged open space filled with wine bottles. The door to the lower floor is not clearly marked and any hesitant consumer may be intimidated to make their way to the wine cellar and humidor. It is unclear whether or not the room is strictly for employees, or if the public is welcome.

The bottles rest on the floor, not prominently displayed on racks or shelves. The aroma of fresh wood crates wafts in the air. A room so daunting any non-wine connoisseur would feel as if they did not deserve to be surrounded by so many wine bottles that lay unmarked and unorganized in a glaringly obvious manner. Lids of wooden crates line a portion of the walls displaying names of foreign lands such as Napa, California and Yacochuya, Argentina. Assorted maps of France randomly interrupt the wood crates, flaunting the wines from the various regions notorious for their vineyards.

At the end of the room a “Limited Access” sign hangs on a glass door that separates the already vast wine selection with the even more overwhelming wine selection that deserves its own temperature controlled space. The room sits hidden from those meanderers who are not distinctly searching for the ______________ (specific description/year/location of a certain one) bottle of wine.

Tiffany’s sits unassumingly amidst several other shops in a plaza off of a busy commercial road. The recent 1200 sq. foot addition extended the store to the corner of West Main and N. Arlington Street, making the shop more visible from the road. Several small tables, reminiscent of European cafés, invite customers to enjoy their edible purchases in front of the shop. Tiffany’s walks the line of fostering an atmosphere uncommon to most liquor stores, taking pride in the role they play in the Kalamazoo community.

Although Tiffany’s is a popular destination among college students, the store succeeds in balancing their college clientele as well as serving the greater neighborhood, a task many smaller spirit shops have not yet accomplished. Habib Mandwee lights up when he relays his enjoyment on the fact that his “business gets people excited!” His customers are his “guests” and they come to him when they are happy and ready to celebrate.

Most party stores are looked down upon by citizens of an upstanding community and are commonly associated with poverty and debauchery. Habib and Saad Mandwee’s commitment to the Kalamazoo community and their dedication to provide their “guests” with a “diverse variety” of products have given western Michigan a haven for over 100,000 choices of wine alone, along with an extensive international beer and liquor selection, and gourmet foods both packaged and fresh. A haphazard collection of products all available in one location, all brought together to ensure an exciting celebration for the customers of Tiffany’s Wine and Spirit Shoppe.



**Note: The profile about 100 words under 1,000 words because I found several places where I want more specific details, but need to go back to Tiffany's to do more reportage.

Ew... Profiles.

I did my interview today with Habib Mandwee, the owner of Tiffany's, and it was just not successful, at all. I definitely take the blame for some of the 'awkwardness' but I got the vibe from him that he just did not want to talk. I had called and set up an interview with him on Friday and when I came in today he was not there. The conversation was awkward because his answers were very short and I got the distinct impression he did not want to spend time talking. I really did not feel that I had the opportunity to open him up or learn about his story.

So, I decided to change my profile to the actual place of Tiffany's and include details about the owner. I feel that the personality of the owner is definitely reflected in the atmosphere of the shop. I spent a bit more time walking around and listening to conversations between workers and customers. I definitely feel that I need to go back and ask more questions of customers, I just do not feel comfortable going back to the manager and trying to delve deeper.

I have no idea where to start with this profile, I somewhat screwed myself over by not really getting into it til today and I am disappointed with the outcome.

I dont know about Wilk...but I love Dr. Seuss

There was definitely "complication" in the story of Wilk. I definitely felt like I knew the character and had a good idea of who he was as a person, and the difficulties he faced in his life. I was intrigued by his life and his accomplishments in the first half of the story but I must admit I tuned out the second half pretty easily. I can't seem to figure out why. I loved the ending, there wasn't necessary a resolution, but it was a good enough "fix" to the problem that I was satisfied.

If I were to guess where my boredom stemmed from, I would say that the story was a tad repetitive. I wanted to see more complication maybe, more struggle (that sounds horrible, I know). Everytime Wilk had a new aspiration it seemed to be the same path to success- which is good for him, but I felt as if I could skim it and get the gist of what happened. However, now as I read my comment I feel like I don't agree with what I am typing because I did get into his life goals, and felt myself feeling relieved when he left for Rome. Either way, this piece did not hit home with me. Especially compared to Mrs. Kelly's Monster.

***

The profile about Dr. Seuss was great! I loved the way it was written and I love Dr. Seuss. I liked him as an author before having read this profile but now I like him and admire him as a person. Gorney does an incredible job at highlighting all his accomplishments while pairing them with Dr. Seuss' extremely unique and eccentric personality. The anecdote about his adult novels was so intriguing to me, and opened a whole new book into Seuss' life and endeavors. His approach to writing children's books is fascinating to me, and yet so simple.

Gorney's language is very simple, and when she weaves in "Seussisms" the author really gets a good idea of who this man is. Seuss speaks his own language and Gorney introduces the reader to his way of speaking in a manner that is not explicit or intruisive to the story.

The one comment Dr. Seuss makes about spending his birthday in Las Vegas that "Nobody will look for a children's book author in Las Vegas" is so revealing into his personality. Gorney makes that statement a paragraph of its own and I found myself a bit taken aback after reading it. But I liked it, a lot.

I Can't Stalk the Truth

I am having difficulty "stalking the truth" as Jon Franklin puts it in his commentary in Writing for Story. I have not been successful in finding a person I find worthy of a profile. I admit, I am horrible at "keeping my eyes open" and I have no idea what I am looking for. I really feel like I'm way self absorbed at this point in my life that I do not take the time to look for complications in other people's lives, unless they are thrust under my nose.

After having talked with a few people there was a suggestion to profile the owners of Tiffany's Liquor Store. They just expanded their store and they seem to know a lot about their products... and have quite a few interesting ones (including the $14,000 bottle of courvoisier). However, I really don't have an interest in that topic... nor their alcohol. I can't find something I am interested in that will prove to be a good story with a good complication and a resolution.

I would really enjoy spending a day with someone I found intriguing, and getting a good personal profile that way. I do not feel comfortable with my interviewing skills and do not feel I would be able to get "personal" with someone through only asking questions.

Fankllin's description on how to find a good story makes it sound so easy. His stories are more than good stories, he found beauties! I guess I am a little overwhelmed with this assignment... if anyone has suggestions, please post!

An American Man at Age Ten

The lede to this article completely threw me for a loop. Throughout the entire article I could think about was how weird it was that the author mentioned marriage when speaking about a ten year old boy. I was weirded out and way distracted. Even though the focus of the piece was on Colin, I found myself asking "What is the relationship between him and the author? Who is she?" I do not like how she introduced herself into the story, especially in the beginning.

Aside from my initial feeling about the piece, I did not enjoy this article. I admit, I really enjoyed Colin and I think the author did a great job at really letting his personality shine through. I felt like I really knew Colin and could picture him growing up. Susan Orlean did a wonderful job at showing his mature character but also reminding us that he is only 10.

I thought that the organization of the article was a little bit scattered. Paragraphs didn't necessarily flow together and there were unnecessary details thrown in. The part about Philip's opinion about sex ed was kind of random. I think she gave a good enough backdrop with the kids being "kids" that she didn't need that detail.

I liked the conversation and agree with "Telling True Stories" that the dialogue brings the piece alive and paints a whole picture about the character. I especially liked when Colin and his friend were talking about girls. It reminded me of my eleven year old brother, who speaks exactly the same way!

A Fleeting Identity - A Personal Narrative, Assignment #1

I do not know who that person was. I got swept up in the whole “French” thing and completely let go of myself and all my inhibitions. I was no longer preoccupied with my studies or my future goals. The Lindsey in Clermont-Ferrand is not the same person as the Lindsey in the U.S. In France I was apprehensive about my surroundings and uncomfortable with my language skills and social capabilities. In the U.S I have enormous amounts of self-confidence and am proud of my social grace; I look to no one to help me out.

We held hands as we stepped off the metro and made our way to the Eiffel tower. My face ached from smiling and my heart was beating so fast, it was neither my first time being in Paris nor my first time seeing the tower. The air was cold and winter was on its way, I didn’t care. I was wearing my scarf and a long black dress coat and was proud of how French I felt. We had to make it under the center of the Eiffel tower before midnight; otherwise the moment would not measure up to his, or my, expectations.

Ten years of learning the French language would never have prepped me for this experience. I blame the countless chic novels and sappy romance movies, that I was infatuated with for so many years. They romanticized the city of Paris and I fell in love with the city that seemed to be the perfect place to fall in love. They were at fault for setting the ridiculously high standards for the dream that I just happened to find myself being a part of.

Two minutes to midnight and the extraordinariness of the moment had not yet hit me. I had spent the last two months so focused on attempting to be comfortable in every situation I was put into that I became accustomed to the abnormal. I was no longer Lindsey, I was his petite americaine who had constructed a new identity and had become smitten with the French lifestyle and a French man.

I had always been an independent woman, who never searched for anyone else to make myself happy or to fulfill something inside of me. I was extremely content with who I was, and prided myself on my solidarity. I did not travel to France searching for anything, certainly not a significant other. If anything I was too content with myself and needed to find my weakness. I never could have guessed that it would be found after having left France, and would involve a boy.

The lights on the Eiffel tower began to do their dance and I knew it was midnight. It was my twentieth birthday and I was in Paris. He leaned over and kissed me. I had no idea what lay in store for my heart, it was the best birthday of my life and I was living in a dream world.

The next four months passed rather quickly, I was absorbed in my French life. I wanted to perfect my language skills and immerse myself as much as possible in the culture. I felt like I belonged and almost all of that had to do with the fact that I was with him. I had never been in a relationship before. I am not the relationship type. I did great on my own. I spent every spare moment at his apartment, meeting his friends, watching his favorite movies, eating his favorite food, spending weekends with his family, doing his house chores. I lost myself in him, quite literally.

It was la fin, he drove me to the airport; of course I didn’t want to go. Obviously we were both crying. It feels so cliché now. He says “Je t’aime,” I walk through security, I turn around, wave for the last time and continue down the hall and it was over. The kiss under the Eiffel tower gave me a glimpse into my future and forever put a stamp on my identity, but with that wave goodbye I slowly slipped back into my old shoes and was no longer his petite americaine, someone else was emerging.

It took a devastating amount of time for me to go back to being myself, I found it difficult to focus on my schoolwork and difficult to redevelop my relationships with my friends and family back at home. I desperately wanted to be back in France, with him, coddled and comforted by him. In Clermont I did not rely on myself for much of anything, I had him. If I had a bad day or needed to vent, I had him. If I couldn’t create a sentence in French, he was there. Before having left for France, I never once in my life felt like I needed anybody else, I could quite adequately take care of myself. He opened up a window to my existence that made me realize I have the opportunity to be a better and more dynamic person when I can share myself with someone else.

When I said “goodbye” I wasn’t just saying goodbye to him, but to Lindsey in the U.S., and to Lindsey in France. I stepped on the plane as me- fully understanding what it means to honestly let yourself go. I was given the opportunity to recreate myself again.

Fashion Junkie at Heart

When asked to come up with a link to a random blog I immediately thought about the blogs that I follow related to politics. I have very good friends who are a large part of the Michigan Federation of College Republicans, the elections for the MFCR just passed and there were huge scandals having to do with blogging. There were outrageous stories being posted on blogs and horrible name calling happening before elections which lead to a lot of upset friends. Perhaps this is why I cringed at the word "blog" when this class began. My experience with blogs have been accompanied by a lot of my friends tears and hurt feelings due to personal attacks. So this time I decided to take my passion, and sometimes obsession, and find a light hearted blog written about fashion and celebrity gossip. I have to admit that celebrity gossip is one of my guilty pleasures. Although there is not a lot of "substance" to this blog, it is a great escape from Kalamazoo College academics. I am a big fan of GLAMOUR magazine and of Ashley Baker's interests. I would love to be her one day.

http://www.glamour.com/fashionbeauty/blogs/fashion/2007/04/index.html

An update on getting personal

I started, and restarted, and deleted, and restarted my personal narrative probably ten times. Finally I decided to just leave all the thoughts and just keep typing, just keep typing, just keep tying. I am probably 75% of the way finished right now, and it still is all a clutter. I find myself discovering new ways of expressing my emotions, and I love it. At first I just thought I had a stupid story to tell, a kind of window into my existence, but now I am beginning to realize how therapeutic writing can be. I decided to take Aaron's advice and start my personal narrative about who I am at this moment and then go back and tell one specific story of what changed me. Of course there are countless stories I could rely on to explain why I am the way I am now, but one surprisingly seems to work. I understand myself more when I am able to create myself on paper. It all is sorting itself out for me, I am beginning to really understand the effects of my experiences in France. This assignment is tough: tough to start and tough to finish. Tough to create an identity and explain myself in only 900 words. As of now I am not finished with my essay, but I am really enjoying reflecting on who I am.

The Open World... All Over the Place

While reading this article I felt as if I was on a completely different page than the author, Ryszard Kapuscinski. I did not get the impression that I was reacting to the same experience he went through. For me, the essay seemed all over the place and filled with small anecdotes that were not fully developed. There were several times when I wished I could have had a more in depth glimpse at what was going on. For example, the sunrise in Benares piqued my interest and I would have loved to know more about his emotions while being surrounded by something so unfamiliar. Perhaps the structure (or lack thereof- in my opinion) and organization of the piece mimicked Kapuscinski's feelings. I got the impression that he was completely overwhelmed in India and I too felt completely overwhelmed while reading his personal narrative.

As a journalist he took the step to immerse himself in a situation where he was out of his comfort zone and I found it commendable. However, his way of sharing his experience was difficult to follow. I never found myself wanting to hear more, nor was I "sucked in" by his story-telling. I would have loved to learn more about his relationships with the people around him and the culture he was in. His account of his surroundings was detailed, but not on a personal level. For example, the descriptions were choppy: "Singly and in groups. Entire clans. Columns of pilgrims. The lame on crutches." I like the detail, but due to the length of the piece I found myself skipping over these sections looking for a particular anecdote with more depth.

The personality of Kapuscinski shined on and off. As mentioned before, I could see this piece being more powerful had he focused on one or two events where his identity became very clear during a specific experience that had enormous significance for him. On the other hand, I can see how his way of telling his story (all of its pieces, all together) emphasizes how lost he was in this culture and his state of confusion. Kapuscinski's voice was not strong and well defined, I had a glimpse of his character and where he came from when he digressed into his life stories in Poland, but I never had a keen sense of who he was in India. Maybe he too partially lost his sense of identity when he was abroad?

Personal Essay... Personal eh?

I don't get very personal. I am not one to share my experiences or my feelings... in fact if anything, I believe that this is one of my personality flaws. Over the past four years I have really begun to understand how easy it is for me not to become emotionally attached to situations, people, or places. If I do become emotionally attached, I supress the feeling. It isn't that I see emotional attachments as a sign of weakness, perhaps I am just afraid to confront them.

Ever since the first day of class, when we were told we had to write a personal essay, I have not stopped thinking about what I want to write about. When I found out it was going to be on a blog, for everyone to read, I began to freak out. I know I have personal experiences in my life that I want to share- or need to share- but I am not so comfortable about going about it this way. This is exactly what I need though.

I really have one topic I want to discuss, but it is so cluttered in my mind I am having difficulty figuring out how I will be able to get it out of my head and on to paper in an organized way. My six months in France was the first time I ever had an overwhelming swell of emotions and I have never confronted everything I went through. This is the perfect opportunity to let it all out. The reading in Telling True Stories about creating the "I" character intrigued me. Hell, I can write for hours about my experience in France but how can I make the reader understand how meaningful it was to me? How can I give the reader a glimpse of my personality and character so that they can completely understand and share my experience? For the first time I can honestly say I admire those that are capable of bearing their souls and I want to take a step in that direction.