Tunes and the Reasons

Thanksgiving.  We’d had a fine Thanksgiving last year.  It was the first time in so long that we’d had all the family under one roof for the holiday.  Historically we were over in Beijing and it was all about inviting friends, next to none of whom were Americans.  No one had a strong sense of what recipe they were expecting or strong preferences as to how a meal ought be prepared.  If you burnt the bird or fixed up some lumpy gravy it didn’t much matter.

My brother called first, this year.  He and his wife and son wouldn’t be coming on account of the pandemic.  My father lives here in the same town, but he and his wife, also demurred.  The community they live in was in lock-down and they weren’t supposed to go out anywhere.  “Would it be OK if I drove by and picked up a plate of food?”  My little sister pulled the plug on her and her nephew about ten days ago and my mom and her husband made it clear that they were going to sit it out as well just a few days back.   So that leaves my wife our daughters and the guest we have visiting from my daughter’s high school, who hails from Guangzhou. 

 

From five till seven thirty or so I was busy beating back obligation.  Creepers and spindles had made their way into my free day over the evening.  What is essential?  What can wait?  Outside the bird is defrosted on the porch and I do the calculations for just how long it will take.  If I’m going to have the bird out by 4:00PM I’d need it in soon.  This was the smallest bird they had there and at twenty-two pounds it’s still gonna need nearly six hours.  I’ll need to head out and get the oranges and the apples that need to be stuffed into that bird.  And before I know it, I’m already behind schedule by 9:00AM.  One last note to a friend, whom I keep a playlist with.  Two tunes, and the reasons why. 

Over at Tops, I asked the two staff folks stocking the shelves if there were any whiskers that were just metal.  The blue, plastic one wasn’t convincing.  The lady looked about and confirmed, there were no other whiskers to be had.  And then, they started mocking the add, playing on the Tops speaker-system: “We’re all in this together.”  “Yeah, right.  You know.  We’re all in this together.”   I went on to get some spinach and quietly wished them a quickened pace till quitin’ time.  Today would be a shitty day to have to stock shelves. Tops would be a shitty place to be working as a middle aged, dirty blond woman with enough sense to mock canned messages. 

 

 

 

Thursday, 11/26/20