A Non-Tradditionalist, Except for Thanksgiving

I'm not a traditionalist about most things, but I've always been a traditionalist about Thanksgiving. The bird. The mashed potatoes. The lumpy gravy. The cranberry sauce. Spiced apples that decorate the turkey plate (and I've never seen anybody actually eat one. I've accused my wife of putting them back in the jar and saving them for next Thanksgiving!). Pumpkin pie and sweet potato pie. The works. We do not have those greenbeans with the soup and canned onion rings on top. We don't go that far. This year we're really breaking with tradition. We're going to Eleuthera. an island in the Bahamas. We'll probably be chewing batter-fried conch. It's as rubbery as a big rubber eraser and about as tasty. One of my daughters decided we needed an adventure. And I think it will be an adventure. She thinks she's taking a couple of frozen turkeys on the plane, but I told her they would more than likely think they were terrorist bombs. They don't even let guys take after shave lotion nowadays, much less two butterball turkeys. But I'm old enough to know you need to be FLEXIBLE when you're looking for an adventure. I've been to Eleuthera before. They don't even have running water. They catch rainwater in a cistern on top of the houses. But it's a beautiful place with beautiful people who all know how to bake coconut pies. This isn't the first time we have broken with tradition at Thanksgiving. Two years ago, we went to Washington, D.C. to spend Thanksgiving with our unmarried daughter. Just my wife and I went so my wife told my daughter, "Don't get a whole turkey. Just get a turkey breast. Nobody likes dark meat anyway." (She's the one who doesn't like dark meat!) My daughter got our turkey from QVC. A boneless breast of turkey that had been infused with Cajun spices. She got two...and they looked like small sheetcakes without the icing or candles. "It doesn't even look like a turkey," I complained. So my daughter went to the store and bought two wings and two legs. And she hooked them to the double breasts to fashion a bird. Wings make a bird, not legs. Once the double breasts were on the platter, I put prune nipples on them. Let me tell you, it was the strangest Thanksiving centerpiece I ever saw, but those Cajuns sure know how to infuse a bird. It was delicious; so juicy. We've never had better turkey! So to heck with tradition. (I'm convinced that all the people who used to watch Tammy Faye and Jim Baker on TV and donate money to their park now watch QVC and buy Cajun turkeys, Joan River jewels and what have you.) Now that I think about it, we broke with tradition last year as well. We had a Turduchen from QVC. I guess you have to be the kind of person who watches QVC to know that things like this even exist. A Turduchen is three birds in one...they start with a boneless turkey...stuff it with a boneless duck...and then stuff that with a boneless hen. I know it sounds repulsive and it looked like an oversized footbal, rather than something you would eat. But it was very tasty. It too had been injected with Cajun spices so I believe it was the touch of those crazy CAjuns that made it so good. I think I'll pack some Cajun spices for our trip to the island...see if we can make Cajun Conch Fritters. I hope all you readers have a wonderful Thanksgiving, traditional or non-traditional.

Chinese Food Like You've Never Seen

I took a friend of mine from Alabama to a real Chinese supermarket in Washington, D.C. It's a big market and has one of everything you've never seen or eaten. My friend loved it. He likes Bitter Melon and exotic teas. I went to the meat market where they had chicken feet, duck feet, pig dicks and pig uteruses. They had a section where they had cooked versions of most of the meats. We got some bar-b-qued chicken feet (they had clipped the toenails). I can't say they were very meaty but they were cheap. They were fresh out of pig's dicks and uteruses. I asked her if she would be cooking uteruses the next day. She said, "You must come very early you want pig uterus. Pig parts very popular. Go faster than Egg McMuffins at MacDonald's." Who would have guessed it?

70 Year Olds Doing the Jitterbug

I just went to my high school reunion in Maryland. I was graduated in 1954 and I had not seen many of the people in more than 50 years. They had made name tags with your photo from the yearbook thinking this would help us remember. I thought most of the women had aged fairly well. They take better care of themselves I think. There were a few old guys who had obviously dumped their first wives (or been dumped!) and they had young "chicky babes". You could spot these guys without seeing their wives. They were the ones with big smiles ear to ear and the ones who were popping Viagra pills like they were Chiclets. One of my old girlfriends asked me to slow dance but I am deaf and both of us were walking with canes. I suggested that we should probably sit the music out since it would be like dancing with six legs. Being from the 50's, we were a patriotic group. We had a Navy Chaplain lead us in songs. The Star Spangled Banner. The song for each branch of the service: Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines. I didn't remember the Army song. But a friend of mine years ago had given me a secret when you are group singing and you don't know the words. You just mouth the word "watermelon" over and over again to the general beat of the song. I think I may have inadvertently sang out WATERMELON, WATERMELON a couple of times because people turned to me with questioning looks on their faces. We had a dance contest. It was really strange to see so many oldsters doing the jitterbug. A few of the ladies had on poodle skirts. Remember those? I won first place in the nostalgia competition. This wasn't a dance. I brought pictures from high school days made into a poster. I had given numerous inappropriate captions. I noticed in some of the pictures my wife had given me (she was a year behind me), she was cuddling with two different guys. I had gone off to war and they moved in on her. Both of them are now dead so it sort of serves them right. Every time I asked about an absent classmate someone would say, "Oh, he's passed on." Or "she's passed on". I think one woman actually brought her husband's ashes. It was a no smoking building and the ashes had no cigarette butts in them. Part way through the evening someone passed a note at our table that said: THE BUS TO THE HOME LEAVES IN HALF AN HOUR. Most of us laughed. But one couple said, "O.K. Thanks. We'll be ready." A fraternity brother of mine whom I had not seen in 52 years suggested that me and my wife should come to Florida to see him. I said, "I have not seen you in 52 years. I have had no Christmas cards; no birthday cards; no e-mails, not even "forwards". And you seriously believe I would jump in my car and drive 7 hours in that horrible Florida traffic to visit you? I'll see you back here in another 52 years. And it will probably be another 52 years before I go to another reunion. The reunion was like a New Year's party where everyone is grunting to have a good time. There were lots of jewels and wigs. The women had some too. It seemed as if every old man had gold bracelets and gold chains. One friend told me the bracelets have magnets that help you improve your golf swing. I told him not to get too close to one of our friends who had a steel plate put it in head because of an accident. It would have been awful if his wrists were jerked up to the guy's head like those little black and white magnet dogs we used to have as kids. Actually it would have been funny. I shouldn't have mentioned it. The table conversation was mainly about various maladies that people had...toenail fungus, open heart surgery, cancer, restless leg syndrome. We talked about living wills. One guy said he had told his wife he did not want to be kept alive on a machine or with fluids being pumped into him. So she unplugged his TV and threw away all his beer. One person came in a long stretch limo. A white one being driven by a young woman in leather pants and a leather hat. He had been a high school drop out, but he was probably the most financially succesful person there. He finished school in the marines, then went to college and got two degrees. He owned his own computer company and now he spends his days counting his money. Everybody was excited when the limo arrived and the buzz was: "Who is it? Who is it?". I said, "Ringo Star." Someone else asked, "Did he go to our school?"

There's Too Much News!

An old friend of mine said, "I hope that you are reading a GOOD newspaper every day now that you don't work." By this he meant THE NEW YORK TIMES or at least THE WALL STREET JOURNAL. I told him I didn't read a newspaper every day...only on Sunday when I do buy and read THE NEW YORK TIMES. I explained to him that Sunday is a slow news day...nothing traumatic and earth-shaking happens on Sundays...not since Pearl Harbor got attacked in 1941. If any bad stuff happens during the week, by Sunday they are analyzing it and it doesn't seem so bad like it would have been as hard news. There's too much damn news anyway, and it's the same old stuff day after day. Our hometown newspaper even repeats obituaries. When I spend the summer in the mountains of North Carolina, THE NEW YORK TIMES is not readily available even though they own the newspaper in Hendersonville. If you want to be certain of getting a copy on Sunday, you have to sign up at the Harris-Teeter supermarket and they will hold a copy for you. It means driving almost 50 miles roundtrip to get one but reading the Sunday paper is about the only ritual thing I do, so I go every Sunday morning. When I went the last time, I forgot to take my money or my credit cards. The manager that's normally on duty was off and a co-manager was on duty. I explained the situation and figured he could let me take my newspaper and I could pay him the next time I was in town. It seemed like a simple thing to me, but he was having no part of it. Stern faced and non-negotiable. I told him he could see by my records that I always showed up on Sunday and always paid...even bought some groceries from time to time. But he just shook his head in the negative. So I said, "O.K. then. You lend me $5.35. (They charge TAX on the newspapers which I think should be against the law!). He was quick to reply, "I'm not lending you any money." I asked him if he thought I was a bum or something just because I had dried oatmeal on my beard. He said I had oatmeal on my shirt too and that he had seen a lot better looking bums. (I'm not buying my groceries there any more.) When I went outside there was an old, old Knights of Columbus guy collecting money for retarded children. I told him about the situation of not being able to get my NEW YORK TIMES...finally he said, "I'll give you a dollar to get your newspaper." But then I told him it was $5.35. He said, "What kind of newspaper is it anyway?" He obviously doesn't read THE NEW YORK TIMES. He wasn't so interested in giving me $5.35. I suggested perhaps I could take it out of his can of money...he had wads of one dollar bills. But he said, "Oh, no. We can't do that. This is for retarded children." I said, "Hell man, they are retarded. They don't know a one dollar bill from a five dollar bill. Besides, look at this oatmeal on my beard and shirt. I'm retarded myself so you can give me the money directly." He said they had warned him about people trying to hoodwink him. I thought seriously about grabbing the whole can of money and running with it. But somebody in the parking lot would have caught me and I could just hear the co-manager telling the cops, "I knew he was up to no good...came in here trying to get a NEW YORK TIMES without paying. And I think he stole two jelly donuts on the way out." I didn't steal the donuts, but I thought about it.

Remembering the Geranium.

I am profoundly deaf. That means I'm deaf as a rock. I wasn't always. When I lost my hearing it was fairly traumatic. I owned three companies, all in the communications business. So being deaf and being in the communications business was sort of a tough concept to grasp. I struggled to learn to read lips and got pretty good at it. But I didn't venture out into public settings unless I had to. A friend of mine was giving a talk on public relations at a workshop in Boston. I wanted to go, so I signed up and went. The first speaker on the program turned out the lights to give his talk...a slide show. I could see the slides, but I couldn't figure out anything he said since the room was darkened. It was sort of a slap in the face...and it threw me into a instant funk. I left the workshop and went across the street from the hotel where there was a beautiful park. Although it was October, flowers were still in full bloom. I sat there staring at this red geranium that was at its peak. Without thinking, I started talking to the geranium. I told it, "Sure, you're blooming. But winter is almost here, and when it comes you are going to freeze to death. You'll be gone." I got no reply. But as I was watching this fully blooming geranium, I realized that it didn't care if winter was going to take it. It was going to bloom right up to the minute a frosty night would take it. I thought to myself, "Damn. That's what I want to do. I want to be blooming no matter what. I want to be in full bloom even if I am deaf and blind and ninety years old. I think of the red geranium often...and I blossom and grow.

Are You Creative?

Don't say "no"! If you say "no" you will never be creative. We all have creative potential. If you say "yes, I am creative", you WILL BE creative. It's that simple. You've got to believe you are and the creative side of your mind will go into gear. You'll be creative in everything that you do. It's not just about art or music. Creative is a way of living. And when you let the creative side of yourself lead the way, you'll discover who you really are...who you were meant to be.

I"ll Have the General Tso Cat

When I would go visit my cousins in North Carolina, we would often meet at a great little Chinese restuarant. The food was always wonderful. After years of visiting the place, I went to visit and my cousins told me the place had been closed down by the Health Department. It seems they were serving CAT instead of chicken in many of their dishes. What? Is it against the law to eat a cat? My cousins said it was against the law if you called it General Tso's Chicken. False advertising. I don't care what the Health Department said, it was damn good cat.

Up, Up and Away!

A friend of mine has an old cat...handsome guy. He got sick and had to be taken to the vet. She misunderstood what the vet said...she thought he said it would be costly...900,000 dollars. He actually said $900 to a thousand. She's a religious person who believes in "the rapture" so I suggested that it might be time to rapture the cat up to Heaven. But she was quick to tell me that cats cannot be raptured. I couldn't believe she said this...but she insisted that animals cannot be raptured. I was very disappointed and told her that if my favorite dog wasn't going to be in Heaven, wagging his tail to greet me, that I wasn't so sure I wanted to go. What kind of place can Heaven be if you don't have your pets with you. She says it's because dogs and cats can't profess their belief. But my dog was baptized...he baptized himself a couple of times a day in the summer. He did it in a pond down by the golf course. We could always tell when he had baptized himself because he was white normally, but he would come home green. Covered in pond algae. I'm fairly certain he's laying on the floor next to God. Or maybe chasing women.