Sunday, June 29, 2014

"I'll have a slice of...."

Once upon a time, along the Formica counter tops of one greasy spoon or another, there would be a  glass-like pie-display rack -- something to show off the apple and pumpkin and rhubarb and peach and lemon meringue possibilities.

Bit by bit as the day progressed, slices would be removed according to the customer's taste and the once-whole pies would begin to look like hockey-players who had lost a tooth or two while scrambling for the puck.

That's sort of the way the house feels these days. "The kids" (all in their 20's) who reclaimed their place in a realm where they grew up have filled the house in recent months. The place was chock-a-block with computer paraphernalia, shoes, exercise equipment, comings and goings, and brimming baskets waiting to get down to the washing machine or be taken upstairs for unloading.

Yesterday, my daughter Olivia and her husband Rich, once more disconnected the umbilical cord in a move to Connecticut, where Rich got a new engineering job. There was the rush to pack, the harried looks of people who didn't want to forget anything, and the removal, bit by bit, of slices of the current pie.

Simultaneously, my two sons went upstairs to reconfigure their sleeping arrangements. Who would sleep where Rich and Olivia once slept and where should personal effects be moved to? It was a domino effect of movement and mind and gadgetry.

Lingering in the midst of this dust storm was the fact that I put off a visit from Barney Marsh, a fellow I had been in the army with in the early 1960's. For all I know, we are the only two remaining from "Violet Section," a group that listened to and translated East German phone calls ... and partied in Berlin. With some time off from his job teaching economics at the University of Hawaii, Barney is touring the U.S. with his wife and wanted to stop by, but my physical condition made that seem more burden than pleasure and so I put my old friend off. It may be the last chance I ever have to see him but ... well, last times come and go, even with old friends.

And now things are quiet-ish ... fresh pies waiting for a discerning wish ... hockey players in the making.


  1. Change is ok, hammocks are better. A well employed hammock is an island amidst any storm.

  2. Now now privacy via the internet social platform is a very fuzzy and peculiar thing especially where 'kids' are concerned. A while ago I was subscribing a particular Youtube channel a user known as 'agedcatlady', she is approximately 20 by now, plays a decent piano singing covers of modern songs - I enjoyed her piano pieces partially because she is cute, still what amused me was how she was somewhat playing in a manner reminiscent of her departed mother, a Catholic lady who was a pianist by profession. Again about umbilical cords, my mother is a simple seamstress so I do fine as a job sitting in front of a machine crunching out lines and lines of alphabet letters while she does the same with thread stitches.

    The point is, are your kids comfortable with you blogging about them?

    I told the San Antonio City mayor how it is hardly my problem that agedcatlady's new boy friend got upset that the girl has got a decent deal of youtube publicity, and came complaining via facebook about how I could boycott the girl's videos either in this way or another.

    Well perhaps he whined in his own words, approximately, that's what I got bemused about :P

    If Agedcatlady's boy got upset that I watch her channel and know more about her than he does, is the problem mine or is it the San Antonio mayor's? If Genkaku's wife got upset that I read his blog and know more about him than she does, is the problem mine or is it the Mass mayor's? *Well you published an entire book about your life story, who am I to guess what sort of stresses other kids go through*.