A colleague was describing his family's vacation ... when he was done listing all his Ports of Call and the accomodations, I was exhausted. It was like listening to Donald Trump drone on about how wonderful and fabulous everything he touches becomes after his touch. I heard nothing from my friend about the people part of this holiday. How were the silly moments? Was the sex any good? Did folks get along? If there were kids there, did they have time to play? No-no-no!
"The food was spectacular. The views? to die for."
I recall several recent occasions when friends have invited me into their new kitchens ... overhauled ... special refrigerators and stoves that do things never done before ... I'm not certain, indeed, that they can be called by such mundane titles .... they're clearly more that places to prepare keep or to prepare foods.
Then, there are those friends who have spent three times what I spent on my first new car on a mattress. Whoa! Like the adverts on television where the men and women sleep perfect sleeps and have perfect bodies. I find myself wondering if those bodies ever touch? ... If they did, would they still be so perfect? so chiseled? ... Maybe they bathe in different claw-foot tubs like on the commercials for men's sex drugs? Who knows?
"The food was spectacular. The views? to die for."
I recall several recent occasions when friends have invited me into their new kitchens ... overhauled ... special refrigerators and stoves that do things never done before ... I'm not certain, indeed, that they can be called by such mundane titles .... they're clearly more that places to prepare keep or to prepare foods.
Then, there are those friends who have spent three times what I spent on my first new car on a mattress. Whoa! Like the adverts on television where the men and women sleep perfect sleeps and have perfect bodies. I find myself wondering if those bodies ever touch? ... If they did, would they still be so perfect? so chiseled? ... Maybe they bathe in different claw-foot tubs like on the commercials for men's sex drugs? Who knows?
Hey! Can anyone still play? Another brief example.
Some years ago, M and I took one of our grand-daughters to a baseball game ... St. Louis at Philadelphia. It was hot ... sweaty hot. The game hadn't begun and the guy in front of us had already gulped five tall beers. Game still not begun and he turns around and says:
Fan: "Anybody says anythin' good about Pujolz
(a world class player for the opposing team)
and I'll make his face look like yesterday's tacos."
Grand-daughter: "Grandpa ... Can we go home pretty soon?"
Me: "You bet, Sweetie."
What is it so problematic about play? How is it that we human-folk can't get together and play like puppies? Howl like Bassets? No wonder videos of playful kittens go viral. Going to parties almost requires 3 alcoholic drinks or -- in the supposed good old days of our young adulthood -- the best grade of "grass." ... Apparently ... Can't get together -- we humanfolk -- without a sacrifice without blemish and, notably, one that warms us up or burns with intoxicating fumes or something.
About this time, each year, I spend at least some days on a beach along the Atlantic Coast of Virginia. Grandchildren are usually present. The Haute Cuisine? pretty absent in this backwater town. My six grandchildren remember with joy and a bit of loving derision towards Grandpa the leftover spaghetti sandwiches of one Summer and my "thing" with spinach and blue cheese, during another. The family's collective memory includes the fact that one of our grandchildren was conceived in this same town just the day after the father-to-soon-be floored his father-in-law with a tennis ball to the groin. There were the mornings when (then only) Dad would drag the kids to see the sunrise and wade out to the sandbar to collect conch shells. There was the time a French visitor who was called for a reason beyond my ken "Big Dick Nick" or maybe it was "Little Dick Nick" dragged a Hungarian not-quite-inlaw into the water ... and many, many were the battles of the water balloons and supersized waterguns and garden hoses. There was cooking in the kitchen and generations organized to chase others through the dunes. Bike rides to nowhere, in particular. Oh! And there was grandpa's favorite beach toy ... the bucket.
It may not be well known that the little green or red or blue bucket is among the best Salt-Water-Delivery Systems. Fill it up at water's edge and let it rip ... water flies at least 25 feet if you're any good at all ... and if you're clever you get to sneak up behind the unsuspecting and dowse them.
Oh! And Scrabble games have words previously unknown to these shores and sometimes to dictionaries, in general.
This year, the youngest grand-spawn who is just learning how to do back-flips made up new lyrics for George Gershwin's "Summertime" ... lyrics that I'm confident she knows won't bring the same smile to her first-grade teacher that they brought to Grandpa. She belted out her scatalogical scat like a seasoned Sophie Tucker:
So ... as I sit here at the World's edge ... in the Last Quarter but feelin' good: I'm confident that ... there are more lyrics to come and new generations with bucket-fulls to be flung ...
Oh! And Scrabble games have words previously unknown to these shores and sometimes to dictionaries, in general.
This year, the youngest grand-spawn who is just learning how to do back-flips made up new lyrics for George Gershwin's "Summertime" ... lyrics that I'm confident she knows won't bring the same smile to her first-grade teacher that they brought to Grandpa. She belted out her scatalogical scat like a seasoned Sophie Tucker:
Poopie-time
And the livin' is squeezie.
Poops are ploppin'
And the Pee-pee is ffffine ...
Y'know your poop is rich
And that Pee-pee's good lookin'
So hush little poopies-and-pee-pees
Do-on't you cry!
So ... as I sit here at the World's edge ... in the Last Quarter but feelin' good: I'm confident that ... there are more lyrics to come and new generations with bucket-fulls to be flung ...
Play ball!
