Wednesday was Yum Kippur. It isn’t celebrated in Beijing. Dragon Boat Day isn’t celebrated in Tel Aviv
either. But Yum Kippur is celebrated
here in New York and that meant that there would be no bus pick up on Wednesday
morning. My daughter reminded me of this when
I went to wake her this morning. “You
need to drive me. I told you. No busses.”
She got tunes till
the bridge. It isn’t exactly fair but
that’s alright. I have gotten to the
point where I can date the vintage of the BTS songs she is playing. Their posture on the early cuts, the rhyming
style is assertive as if they have something to prove. “Is this from one of the early albums?” “Earliest.”
I nod as if I knew that. I can’t
help but think back to my own ferocious music consumption at that age. And though I had a favorite band, the heroic
prototypes bloomed and fell like mayflies when I was sixteen.
I’m amazed that she is still primarily enamored with one group after
well over one year.
Driving around in
this Highlander it is certainly comfortable.
I could care less, but my wife ordered leather interiors and I’m put off
by the way in which holding what feels like a leather trimmed steering wheel
somehow makes the driving experience feel refined. That’s ridiculous. It’s what I am being made to feel. And so, I drive around securitizing the experience
instead of enjoying it.
They wanted dinner
on the table. They’d be back at
6:00PM. I needed dinner on the table by
that time. I had a call at 5:30PM and
then a call at 7:00PM followed by one at 8:00PM and 8:30PM and 10:00PM. I cut up some eggplant. Doused it in olive oil, spread it all up and down with pesto and put a blop of ricotta on the top. Baked those. Made some thin linguini that cooked quicker
than I thought it would. Three different
bottles of porcini peppers are there in the refrigerator and I take one and add
a few to a small bowl. That’ll do for
dinner. It’s on the table thirty minutes
early. I’ve got to go and speak with Sao
Paulo and Shenzhen.
Wednesday 10/09/11
No comments:
Post a Comment