Saturday, November 26, 2011

Tofurkey, Sweet Lolita and Pumpkin Pie

E. Boyer

Aahhh, the holidays.  Taking time from our hectic schedules to come together for the autumnal feast.  Loved ones from near and far hearken the call to gather and rekindle the familial flame.  It is truly a time of warm feelings and fond memories.  Course, it’s also a time to sit back and watch Aunt Cora take her teeth out at the dinner table after 5 or 6 Brandy Alexanders.  Yes, this is the stuff holiday memories are made of.  Take, for instance, your Grandmother’s prized pumpkin pie recipe that was shared only with her favorite sister-in-law .  Try as you might, this pie never turns out quite right when you make it, due solely to the fact that the miserable  wretch purposely left out one or two of the key ingredients when she passed the recipe down to you.  No matter.  There are still so many things to be thankful for and so many wonderful relatives to share this special day with.  Take, for instance, your older sister.  O.K., it’s true that at every family get-together she takes the opportunity to explain to everyone, individually and in great detail, how they will be spiritually uplifted by following the holy word of our Savior.  And, every year you pray for the love of sweet Jesus or for any other Savior to bolt down from the heavens and rescue you from the hell of this proselytism.  But, she’s a great gal and it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without her…right?  Besides, we all have our little quirks and being together as a family is what it’s all about.  What better time to catch-up with those we so seldom see in our hectic lives and laze in the re-telling of fun-filled days gone by.  Admittedly, some memories are better than others and I think we could all agree that recalling the time Aunt DeeDee had to pick up Uncle Wes in Mexico at a place called Sweet Lolita’s Pleasure Place, is probably a bad idea.  Oh, but who hasn’t had a little misstep here and there?  Nothing so trivial will dim the warm and comforting glow of this lovely Thanksgiving day.  The house is filled with the intoxicating aroma of all imaginable comfort foods, the table is set with all the glitter and glam befitting this special occasion.  The seating assignments are marked and everyone anxiously awaits the call to indulge.  And, whoever drew the shortest straw last year anxiously awaits the shock and awe experience of sitting next to one of the…gulp… teenagers.  O.K., holiday or not, I’m just gonna go ahead and say what everyone is thinking…at least one of the teenagers in this group is guaranteed 100%  to be a full-fledged wing-nut!  A behavior modification experiment gone horribly wrong! A spawn so evil that it sends the hackles up on the old family dog!  And you can set your watch to the inevitable moment during dinner when this little messenger of Satan will announce their hatred for their parents then french-kiss (yes, at the table) the equally disturbing dinner guest they brought along and then punctuate the moment with a “What the hell is your problem?!?  Pass the freaking potatoes!!”   Ahhh, family.  Nothing quite like it.  All together for the holiday.  Sharing the love.  If you venture out to the back porch you can also share in some of Uncle Zen and Aunt Moon’s Tofurkey.  Yep, vegetarians.  Don’t laugh.  If you live long enough, it’s bound to happen at your family celebrations, too.  The weird couple who refuses to enter the house during theflesh eating portion of the evening, sits out on the back porch in their ill-fitting clothes and Birkenstocks, plates on laps, pretending to enjoy the vegan casserole they brought as a contribution.  Did I mention that the vegetarians are also smokers?  That’s right.  Turfurkey and Marlboros on the back porch.  Beautiful.  But, they’re family and we love ‘em, right?  And, of course the holidays just wouldn’t be the same without the ever popular political debate.  This is always a tough one for anyone with a brain because you know you should resist any temptation to participate.  But…aaarrgg..there it is!!  He actually said Sarah Palin is brilliant and now you have Uncle Kip in a headlock right there in the living room.  Good Lord.  Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.   

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Wow...He's Smart! (un-edited version)


(..with watermelon-size testicles)


Oh, Dear.  My, my, my.  My local newspaper went and got intellectual on me!  I can usually handle an Aristotle here, a Bolshevik there but, when you start pilin' on Plato and obscure authors, it's a real challenge.  However, when you go and get crazy, adding in all those gratuitous adverbs...well, my old knees start knockin'!!  Phewf!
Just for the sake of argument and based on his recital of knowledge of philosophers, Bolsheviks and sci-fi novels, I'm guessing that Mr. Kelley, whose commentary appeared in the Post on Nov 9th, enjoyed the benefit of an education, and I'll go out on a limb and say that he likely enjoyed the benefit of a public education.  O.k…I’m not really guessing..it says so right on his internet bio page.  Thanks to the higher taxes at the time, tuition for the UC system was about $600 per year which would have allowed him to ponder all the stuff that made him so smart, without depleting the family bank account. 
Sadly, that luxury is hardly the reality for so many young people, today. That could explain why all those drum-beating, iPhone toting, petulant, black-clad anarchists at the mob scene in Oakland didn't know all the stuff that Mr. Kelley knows.  He actually knew, without a doubt ("doubtlessly") that 99% of them didn't know stuff. Imagine being that certain of the knowledge of complete strangers.  Let me just say, "wow."  I think that instead of hanging out with those stupid, inarticulate 99%ers, Mr. Kelley should check into a neuroscience research center so they can study his incredible brain.  On the other hand, and since we're on the topic of stuff Mr. Kelley knows, Saul Alinksy said "...if you think you've got an inside track to absolute truth, you become doctrinaire, humorless and intellectually constipated." In which case, he may need a dose of brain fiber.  And, even though Mr. Kelley sure is smart, I thought I'd point out that, with all these annoying uninformed and inarticulate nihilists running around – many, perhaps most of them, as well as some 13 million other Americans, being unemployed and strapped for cash – now may not be the best time to reference Atlas Shrugged, a book that was considered an “..homage to greed.”  
Mr. Kelley's marginalization of the demonstrators in Oakland was a display of elitism and it made me sad. It was a generalization that, because someone doesn't do what you might do or share your political positions, that they're not as intelligent as you.  If polled on the spot, 99% of Piedmonters probably couldn’t say who Saul Alinksy was.  Like many things in a stage of infancy, the Occupy groups aren't perfect and haven't gotten everything right. But because they may not be as versed as Mr. Kelley is in a 19th century Russian-based philosophy doesn't mean their frustration and concerns aren't legitimate. It's easy to be critical from the comfort of our affluent little slice.  But, the whole world doesn't necessarily experience life as we do in Piedmont.   That doesn't mean that they're unintelligent.
Roughly 235 years ago our founding fathers sat in a room in Philadelphia.  Having enormously and fundamentally different views, they nonetheless were able to find common ground.   If memory serves, it was during the summer.  Anyway, it's hot in Philadelphia in summer. Toss in all those wigs and frilly collars that were so fashionable at the time and you've got the makings of a pressure cooker of cranky politicians!  Still, they got the job done.  They couldn't have done it if their strategy was to belittle each other for having different opinions.
Demonstration and freedom of speech are as American as apple pie...or chicken pot pie...not sure which is more American.  I respect Mr. Kelley's right to an opinion and I give him credit for having the watermelon-size testicles required to put that piece out there for all to read.  But, as nice as opinions and watermelon-size testicles may be, it's not always the best idea to parade them around the neighborhood. 

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Gossip


E. Boyer
Why do I know that my neighbor is moving out because of financial problems?  I shouldn't know that.  Why do I know that one of the women in a charitable organization which I support doesn't always wait until 5:30 to start Happy Hour?  I shouldn't know that.  And, why do I know that several neighborhood kids are in therapy or have been experimenting with drugs and alcohol?  I shouldn't know that, either.  You see, I don't have a close and personal relationship with any of them them.  And yet, I know things about them that only their very dear friends or family should know.  Mind you, I don't really know these things about my neighbors, etc.  I've only heard them.  That's right.  Gossip.  You might ask, "Why listen if you know it's just gossip?"  Well, here's the thing about gossip..the person delivering it is usually one of those coiling cobra types from whom it's doggone hard to get away!  Heck, they'll wrestle you to the ground just to bend your ear about the latest misfortune that fell upon some poor soul.  But, the thing that I've always found fascinating about gossip isn't so much the (always convoluted) message but, rather the pleasure the messenger gets in delivering it.  Take a closer look next time...they're like hyenas hovering over a carcass...laughing, snickering and licking their chops! For them, gossip makes the holiday ham look like leftover tuna casserole!  It's probably similar in other small towns but, geez, guys..our little enclave has a gossip force that rivals The National Inquirer!!  Good Lord, it's like pigs to the trough when someone's marriage is on the rocks!  Ladies' Night Out around here is often like a hodge-podge of scenes from Jane Austen's Emma read by Martha from Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?!!  Yep.  And, those darling little "I Love Lucy" style luncheons at our local country club often turn into that lesser known sitcom "Lucy and Ethel Get Hammered on Six Glasses (eachof Chardonnay And Tell Everyone Else At TheTable Why The Neighbors Really Moved Out Of Town."  Yikes..not pretty!!  But, those smeared-lipstick, slurred-word episodes aren't nearly as troublesome as the ones executed with complete presence of mind in full sobriety.  For example, you settle down for ten minutes with the morning paper and a cup of coffee when your phone rings with a call from your friend/gossip extraordinaire delivering urgent news:  "You-know-who's ex- husband is now living down the street with a woman 30 years his junior..but, turns out the marriage ended not because of her bizarre shoplifting habit as previously thought but because of his 12 year stint on unemployment after he was fired for being "ineffective"..anyway,  now he has millions from some real estate scam he pulled in Vegas but, you know she was the one with all the family money and never had to work a day in her life, but honestly, the whole new money thing is so tacky and, their son...he was the one they sent off to Utah for wearing all that eyeliner in high school..well, he's back in town after graduating from some B-rated college and you know he never would have gotten into any college if it weren't for that giant donation his Grandmother made..anyway, he's threatening to tell the new wife that his father was once in love with Bill, yes...Bill, the interior designer who, many years ago, helped his  mother with "colors" for their living room...anyway, they're having some ridiculously pretentious party and I might actually go because I'm dying to see what she looks like!"  Bam!!  Top that, Regis and Kelly!  And, all this time I thought their marriage ended because of that terrible hair piece he insisted on wearing. 
Some studies say that gossip is "..the social glue that holds us all together." And, that gossip "...is more than idle chat..it's how we arrange our world as social animals."  Maybe so.  But, I always thought the son was darling and I assumed, for all those years, that the eyeliner had something to do with theater arts!  And, I’m still not sure about the “new money” comment..I thought new money spent the same as old money!  Well, now I'm confused. Go easy on the mud slinging, fellow Piedmonters.  It could make an old gal add Bourbon to her morning coffee!  Besides, it's even tackier than all that new money...seriously.