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Florist: Picking Out a Little Surprise

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What do Barbra Streisand, John Travolta and Sallie Scardina have in common? They’ve all been seduced by the flower-power of Frank and Glen the flower men.

Well, for flower men, read owners of Hotel del Coronado Florists.

Streisand might have been special to the florists--in fact, she loved the roses they did for her so much her secretary telephoned from Los Angeles to ask for a second bunch to be sent up.

But Sallie Scardina and husband-to-be Andy Tutino are special, too. Name names and you’ll see why. Frank’s second name is Palazzolo. He’s Italian. Sicilian. He knows intimately what Italian weddings are all about. The Scardinas, they won’t skimp and crimp and cut corners. They won’t be satisfied with mean little displays. We’re talking about $3,000 and up here. And they won’t be there interfering at every stage.

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Italians, when they celebrate, go the whole way. They want you to drown them with flowers. And best of all they recognize an artist when they see one. No thinking about it, passing on in-laws’ suggestions, searching for ways to economize. They just tell you the colors they’re working in and then say, “OK, Frank. There’s the church, there’s the ballroom, there’s the wedding cake and the guests. Create!”

Of course, it’s a challenge to Palazzolo, but nothing he can’t handle. After all, he and partner Glen Hoag are the team that creates the famous Hotel del Coronado Christmas tree every year, three months in the preparation, two frantic days in the assembling. A $25,000 extravaganza with hundreds of garlands, nosegays of silk red roses, baubles, bangles, beads, tangled miles of lights and 400 teddy bears.

Still, there’s an awful lot to think about. First, there’s the bouquets for the bridal party, the corsages for the mothers, the boutonnieres for just about everybody . . . red roses, white roses, carnations . . . flowers for the church, flowers for the ballroom. All coordinated with the dresses and suits they’re wearing, and all striving to achieve a certain “look.”

“Don’t worry!” says Palazzolo to Sallie and her mother, Catherine, on their fourth visit. He’s in the back, spraying a red rose with Pearly Dew 744. Suddenly it looks like a pearly pink silk rose.

“Boutonnieres, bouquets, they’re all ready in the ‘fridge room. You’d like to check the flowers?” Outside in the shop the entire space is taken up with the Scardina-Tutino wedding--a jungle of Dendrobian orchids from Hawaii, Rubrum lilies from Holland, stephanotis, roses, miniature carnations, baby’s breath, orchids.

On top, above the counter, stands a huge plastic foam peacock with a magnificent tail. He’s part of the act, too. He’ll be dressed up in flowers, filled with fruit and carried out to strut at the table of honor at the reception.

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“No problems,” says Palazzolo as the Scardinas leave. “No problems.”

But out back the list on the wall tells another tale: “M+M Richard Hite, Hnymn Pckge,” “New York State Society of CPA’s,” “Demmon/Gohawk Golden Anniv. Exec Rm.” The pieces of paper each tell of a decorating deadline that can’t be missed. And that’s on top of the permanent cards: “Mon., Thurs., water lobby, Palm Court,” not to mention the 150 bud vases that have to be changed every day for the hotel.

There are chores to be done. Like gathering the flowers for the church. Delivering them at the crack of dawn. Getting the boutonnieres and bouquets to the Scardina household in Mission Hills.

And going down to the warehouse to pick out a little surprise not on the order book. When Palazzolo’s dealing with Italians, he’s dealing with one of his own.

Saturday evening, he and Hoag are buzzing about, delivering, setting up flowers, arranging them, watering them. Hoag calls in at the warehouse, picks up some white trestlework and throws it in the back.

And at 7 Sunday night, when the newly married Sallie and Andy Tutino make their grand entrance, there stands great arched gazebo surrounded by Ficus trees, a gift of Palazzolo and Hoag, the perfect entranceway for a bride and a wedding grand enough to deserve the grand treatment. The bride is thrilled. The two men smile.

The wedding dinner is under way. Palazzolo and Hoag’s day is over. Hoag’s going home. Palazzolo’s staying to socialize and dance a bit. Fairly typical Sunday? Yup. Is this the biggest wedding they’ve ever done? No, that honor went to a Mexican couple. One thousand sitting down to dinner. Fourteen bridesmaids. Flowers without number.

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Their quickest wedding? “We came to the rescue of another florist. He just didn’t have the flowers. We did the complete wedding in one hour.” Nearest thing to a disaster? Palazzolo looks across at Hoag. “You remember the two red brick churches. The ones opposite each other? We went in one Saturday morning to decorate the one on the right and decorated it for a wedding. About 30 minutes before the ceremony we got this frantic phone call: ‘Where are the decorations?’ We’d decorated the wrong church! We dashed down and spent 15 frantic minutes running across the road with our arms filled with flowers.

“I tell you, we’ve seen everything. Stands of doves flying out from the aisles. Weddings where they’ve forgotten to bring the bride--accidentally left her at home. A wedding where the best man decked the matron of honor. What a black eye!”

What’s next for Hoag and Palazzolo? Hoag says, “We’re currently only doing a third of the weddings that come to the hotel. . . . It’s the convention work I want. That’s the lifeblood of the hotel, and it’s our ticket to survival. . . . Weddings are nice, but conventions are it .”

It’s been a long day. Fatigue is starting to set in. Is this the toughest time of year, the season of spring wedding mania?

“Are you kidding?” says Hoag. “No way. New Year’s, that’s by far the worst. And you know why?”

Uh, holidays? South American holy days? Mexican fiesta time?

“Rose Bowl Parade. The Rose Bowl siphons away every stem in the state. You won’t find a flower in the whole wide world. It’s impossible! Just don’t get married at New Year’s. Never get married for a month after New Year’s if you want anything more than wild-carrot flowers at your wedding.”

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