勝美2

Another 金曜五 and Friday5 doubleheader!

Questions courtesy of 金曜五.

1. Whatcha been up to?

Another wedding. Another outdoor ceremony. At the country club. The party favors were wedding coronavirus masks and hand sanitizer.

I'm certain we all know the importance of the bride having her special day but she is my age and with her looks the family is lucky to have gotten rid of her at all. Last month I attended an outdoor wedding. Mid-September. That's kind of pushing it in my climate.

Temperature: 47° F. Overcast, very windy. 

Last week was Indian Summer. Missed a glorious warm autumn day with blazing yellow, red and orange trees. The minivan has already become my principle vehicle.

Guest list was drastically slashed. Sixty people in attendance tops. Orchestra cancelled. Even with social distancing the party easily fit into one of the smaller halls at the club. And because of coronavirus, instead of the country club staff (which had pursued other employment), a restaurant catered the banquet. I had the barely warmed over chicken with sautéed baby carrot and unpeeled boiled new potato. Singular. Couldn't even be bothered to peel the damn potato. Or there was an equally yummy choice of either steak in a puddle of runny brown liquid or vegetarian ravioli in tomato sauce. What kind of a charm school dropout serves runny brown or tomato sauces at a social function when people have been drinking and one slip up is going to lead to a frantic dipping of the napkin into the glass of ice water in an ineffectual attempt to blot the stain? As usual I ate before I got there which was a good thing. Supper accompanied by the wedding party delivering their "funny" and "touching" speeches. The bridesmaids spoke of grade school and junior high school triumphs and tragedies. The best man was cut off before regaling us with the part about the strippers at the previous night's bachelor party.

Charming. 

Punctuated by mandatory laughter. And / or applause.

Do not interrupt me while I am eating.

One time I was tailgating and some guy from WBAY CHANNEL 2 ACTION SPORTS and his camera crew started towards me across the parking lot in interview mode. Two of my friends intercepted them. "Do you see that girl over there? If you talk to her while she is eating she will kill you."

Then everyone got to leave the hall to troop outside again, the ladies shivering without their wraps, form two lines facing the other, issued giant sparklers lit by the bridesmaids and held them aloft as the bride and groom "marched down the aisle" in a whirlwind of burning magnesium sparks. 

One of the groom's grandmothers fell. I checked her out. Badly sprained ankle. We should call for an ambulance. I'm in the genuflecting pose with my left stockinged knee on the fake cobblestones trying to make one of the waitresses understand "please get a towel and ice"; meanwhile, someone had run into the hall and retrieved a wheeled walker equipped with handbrakes and a sitting bench. I did not know there was such a thing. So if you get pooped while you're taking a spin around the assisted living facilty courtyard you can put on the brakes to sit a spell. Several people picked the grandmother up, helped seat her on the walker and rolled her back into the hall to continue the festivities. She was a trooper. Made it all the way through the bride and groom's first dance and the father and bride dance before her ankle really started swelling and it was ambulance time but what do I know? Only taught Girl Scouts First Aid merit badge which included certified CPR training for five years with the able assistance of my dear friend Brad Pitt.

Ladies, meet Brad. Pucker up for the Kiss Of Life.

Usually calling an ambulance is the sign of a successful party but by then I'd already polished off my piece of wedding cake (promising yet generic choco and canned Betty Crocker vanilla buttercream) so I didn't stick around for seconds. Or thirds.

2. What's the latest from the front?

Disgraced ex-alderwoman Heather Kuhl was absent from the Ad Hoc Committee On Policing And Social Inequities meeting.

S'matter, Heather? Come out and play.

I even had Spewgie put my hair up in cornrows because Heather looks like a hair-puller...

I pray thee, good Spewgio, let's retire: 

The day is hot, the Heather abroad, 

And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl; 

For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. — ウィリアムシェイクスピア 

...and a biter. I was ready to jump over the communion rail or whatever it is you call that thing that separates the public from the committee members and beat the living snot out of Heather for bringing riots to my city and then having the nerve to criticize the police and National Guard for their "heavy presence". What did you expect? We'd let you burn down my neighborhood? Burn down your own neighborhood, bitch. You're the one who was photographed participating in the late night BLM joyrides through the neighborhood to instill fear. Intimidating your own neighbors.

Incongruous that Heather ran a "Hate has no home here" sign making business out of her living room and even begged for money on GoFundMe so poor people could put a sign in their front yards, too.

Heather quit the Common Council last week after a secret Twitter account she had for five years was exposed. Disgusting filth and hatred. From someone who epouses love and peace.

Now I am fighting to get her official City Of Wauwatosa alderwoman emails. Open records, Heather.

Heather can dish it out but she can't take it.

3. What's up?

Yuka Kinoshita made "mashed potatoes" out of a large McDonald's french fries. Oishi! Yeah, well it looked like a whole stick of butter and I don't know how much cream went in there so it better be pretty oishi alright. 

She then proceeded to schmear a glop of mashed potatoes on her McDonald's riceburger. OISHI!   

Can't remember where we were. I think it was a vacation with Spewgie's family and my parents. We were in the free breakfast line.

I do recall the hotel had really nice chafing dishes. I dislike it when you're expected to remove the lid from a crockpot or Nesco in a makeshift buffet and then perform a magical balancing act while serving  yourself. Or some rickety operation involving a can of flaming Sterno regarded as a dangerous accelerant by four out of five dentists. To tell you the truth, I am not a big fan of indoor fires unless it is in the fireplace. Cherries Jubilee, Bananas Foster, Crêpes Suzette... Uh uh. Forget about saganaki, too. Opa!  Romantic candlelight and birthday cakes are my limit. I got the pyro out of my system a long time ago. 
  
When we were little, Spewgie and I used the buddy system; one serves while the other one holds the plates. These chafing dishes were intuitive. Each was labeled so people weren't opening things to check what's inside. Hinged lids. No muss, no fuss. 

And everything was matching. 

Typical free breakfast fare with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browned potatoes, toast, fruits, juices, coffee, tea, milk. The food was hot, plentiful, regularly replenished and the layout was well designed. Each chafing dish had ample space to put a plate down and a metal tray for the tongs or serving spoon. Usually there isn't a designated place for the service utensils and people throw them in with the eggs in and close the lid.  

In line for seconds and kind of looking around for another bottle of ketchup and what do I see? A Kotobuki shamoji. A comedy utensil for serving rice based on the scientific principal of weebles wobble but they don't fall down. Which means there is a rice cooker nearby. Score! My plate was already kind of loaded so I just kind of piled the rice on the eggs and hash browns. 

Meanwhile, back at the table, the waitress had replaced the empty ketchup bottle and Spewgie was getting the new one started with a few whacks on the bottom for her scrambled eggs. I am too impatient. I couldn't wait. 

Rice and hash browns are oishi! If you thought the potatoes and rice were delicious together in curry, you will be very surprised. 

I would like to try omurice with a base layer of Yuka-style mashed potato fries. Or scalloped potatoes. Maybe Wisconsin-style poutine with tater tots, mouse cheese (cheese curds so fresh they squeak when you eat 'em), a great big ladleful of beef demi-glace. Or is it Sauce Espagnole? Whatevs. And rice.

4. What's new?

Check it out.

A candlelight LED bulb. It has a day / night sensor! The "flames" automatically change direction if it's screwed in upside down! It will look perfect in my coach lamp.

I will wait until after Halloween. I've already cancelled nighttime Trick Or Treating in our neighborhood for this year. Spewgie and I toyed with the idea of a Halloween Parade. Or many decentralized block parades. As uze, not enough volunteers.

If it hadn't been for the police and the National Guard, it would have been me 'n' Spewgie vs the BLM rioters. 

Before we got all gung ho on Halloween alternatives, Spewgie ran a check for registered sex offenders.  

I'm just going to put on my witch's hat and drop off Pocky or Almond Joy at the houses with children on my block and my boyfriend. Maybe I will make a special candy or choco caramel apple for him. 

He misses me. He saw me working outside and must have asked his mother for permission to cross the street to help rake leaves. And wore his coronavirus mask and maintained a ten to twenty-foot social distance. He thinks I look prettier when I wear round clothes (boat and crew neck sweaters) than triangle clothes (V-necks). Is my monkey fur sweater really made out of monkeys? No. It is made out of mohair. What's mohair? Fur from a goat. Like when we turned the sheep at the farm into yarn? Precisely like shearing the sheep and spinning the wool at Old World Wisconsin. Except my sweater is from Angora goats; not sheep. Or monkeys. Yellow locust leaves are the best. When the leaf falls it is like a helicopter. Because it flutters? Yeah, but they're small and hard to rake. Red maple are pretty, too. He stayed at his grandmother's house for a few days. (His parents sent him away during the riots.) My grandmother has an owl. (He was awoken by a "who who who" during the night.) Alas, all too soon we had to be content with waving goodbye to each other.

This is the same kid who didn't believe me when I explained a long time ago there were no streets. Chief Wauwatosa of the Potawatomi tribe lived here.

And he tilted his head and squinted at me. "If there weren't any streets, then how did Chief Wauwatosa get to the Pick 'N' Save?"

Touché, mon ami.

5. What's on the agenda?

Daydreaming of Hello Kitty momoberry Wisconsin-style kakigori.

The Swan SI-100E ice shaver. Over five pounds of delicate snow in less than a minute!

Treat the family or the whole neighborhood to delicious frozen custard and snow desserts! Make a snowball and nail Heather Kuhl in the head! Without waiting until winter! 

But wait... There's more:

Incredibly durable metal frame encased in high quality plastic.

Available in your choice of teal blue.

The convenient drip tray is perfect for redirecting and leaking water onto the floor. 

Now how much would you pay for such a quality ice shaver? $5000? $3000? $2000?

Nope.

The Swan SI-100E can be yours for an incredible $1795.00! That right! Only $1795.00!

Order now! Call 1-800-555-SNOW. Shipping, handling, the optional foot pedal, momoberry syrup, azuki beans, frozen custard and ice not included. All major credit cards accepted. Call 1-800-555-SNOW now! 

You're tempting me. Hmmm. For $1795.00 I can run out in the backyard with a bowl and get my own snow.

Friday5 questions courtesy of Scrivener. Thank you!

Friday 5 for October 23: Z.

1. How have you been sleeping lately?

Chronic insomnia since birth.

2. What kinds of linens and stuff do you have on your bed today?

It's not a bed. It's a futon.

Most importantly, I switched from my summer pajamas (either scrubs or men's boxers, men's white cotton tennis or maybe golf shirt, footies / tabi) to winter (same summer base layered with matching light or dark grey sweats and a zippy hoodie). Last week I finally broke down and turned on the furnace. Myrtie has never been an affectionate cat but she's been snuggly and clingy lately. Because we've had frost. To stay warm.

FUN FACT: If I have to make an emergency run to the store or go for a midnight spin in the roadster, I put my hair in a pony, put on a pair of sneaks and a jacket and off I go. In my jammies.

For summer, white cotton percale sheets. For winter, white cotton flannel.

I wash the bedclothes frequently. With All Free And Clear concentrated detergent and chlorine bleach. Actually I don't wash the bedclothes frequently. I squinch them in eighteen gallon Rubbermaid Roughtotes and wait until I am out of clean sheets. And towels. Which takes about three weeks. Then Myrtie and I celebrate ¡La Fiesta de la Lavadora de Maytag! And go to Taco Bell for bean burritos. ¡Olé!

That reminds me of the first song Spewgie and I wrote together. A samba / rumba number.

Spewgie's mother had left the ironing board and iron in the kitchen.

♪ ♫ Way down south
Where the bananas grow ♪
♫ Mary Proctor irons glow
Ay yi yi ♫
♪ Ay yi yi ♫ ♪

We must have been pretty little because I remember us providing percussion by dancing around like Carmen Miranda and scuffing the soles of our Dr Denton's in time to the music on the kitchen floor. And Spewgie's mother was like, "Girls! Go back to bed!"

Not a patroness of the arts.

Somewhere I got to wondering about getting queen-sized zippered pillow protecters and filling them with glass beads. I never knew weighted blankets were a thing. But I think the pillow would end up being fifty pounds.

The next step will be getting out the heavy down quilt. Currently with a white cotton flannel duvet cover.

3. What’s the latest you’ve gotten out of bed these last few months?

Some days I don't.

4. Have you had any pleasant or unpleasant dreams lately?

Very rarely remember my dreams.

Spewgie would talk about her dreams as we walked to school together. Sugarplums and fairies and riding a unicorn / Pegasus. I thought that I must not dream until years later when I fell asleep on a couch at the student union with my head in Spewgie's lap. She pried open one of my eyes and it was darting around wildly. REM stage so I must dream.

Sometimes I can see the future. I know something is going to happen. Repetitive dreams.

There used to be this thing called The Dream Registry. You have a dream, you write them a letter with the deets and they register it. A guy named Greybeard (this was before the internet and everyone had colorful or stupid nicks) had an unbelievable number of hits or correct dreams. One of them involved the crash of American Airlines Flight 191 on 1979 May 25 at O'Hare International Airport in Chicago.

Greybeard uncannily described and drew a diagram of the crazy angle and arc the plane took after takeoff and slammed into the ground. I read about it in a magazine when I was a little girl so some of it escapes me but I vividly recall his sense of anguish in having repetitive dreams and lucidly trying to read the plane's tail number to prevent a tragedy and his feelings of guilt when the accident occurred a day later. After sending in three letters on successive days to the registry. Before it happened. 

For six months I have known there would be riots in my city. In my mind I could see the protesters by my house fighting police and the National Guard at the library and in the intersection and the military vehicles (armored vehicles I was unfamiliar with because I've driven a Humvee) pushing them back. Of course everyone thought I was crazy. It was maddening. Even the news media was complicit. Every day reporting a Wauwatosa police officer had murdered three men of color. And kept it up with the murder part. Pictures of the three murder victims. Day after day. But never anything about the victim being a sevebnteen-year-old who stold a semiautomatic handgun, took it to a mall, threatened shoppers and shot at police. But for four months no one reported the officer was black. Despite me telling them so. Our very own Common Council voted to immediately fire the racist officer. I finally contacted TMZ which is some kind of celebrity and Hollywood news source and The Wall Street Journal with a news tip. But it was too late. Everyone had the knee jerk reaction it must be a white officer because a black boy is dead so all the hatred was directed at my city and our police department.

Spewgie and I did not watch Super Bowl XXXII. We knew the Green Bay Packers would lose. That wasn't a dream or a premonition. There is a difference. It was Brett Favre's attitude. All petulant and sulky. My family and Spewgie's family were ready to watch the game; Spewgie and I saw Brett Favre acting up and we announced we weren't sticking around. And sure enough, they lost. Only Super Bowl within our lifetimes we haven't seen. That's why we hate Favre. He threw that game away. The Super Bowl. Same behavior he exhibited other times leading to Packer losses.

Well, as the billboards said as we were finally rid of the big crybaby, "Brent, we'll never forget you."

5. What helps you relax these days?

There are three things that are guaranteed to put me to sleep.

1. Sleeping with Spewgie. Not that way, perv. Since we were babies. We're closer than twins even though we're not sisters. I think it is her warmth and closeness and breathing. And hugging me like I'm a sock monkey.

2. Being at sea (although I wake up for my midnight snack at two o'clock in the morning. I bring Kewpie mayonnaise, bleu cheese dressing and Heinz 57 ketchup on vacation for my early morning room service chef's salad, club sandwich with french fries and choco cake — you know what they say — pre-breakfast is the most important meal of the day 'cause at six o'clock I gotta hit the shower so I'm ready for bagels and lox on the Lido deck and then dash off to the dining room for full English breakfast).

3. Slumber parties with my nieces and Spewgie Jr. We eat our pizzas, the girls gather all the blankets and pillows, make a nest on the floor, Spewgie puts Coraline in the DVD and I don't even make it through the opening credits.

In a world before coronavirus.

Daydreaming about food. Watching Yuka. Getting or making things I've always dreamt of: halo halo, Pompano en Papillote, Superman ice cream, KFC with caviar, Peking duck with the traditional pancakes, vegetables and sauce. Having friends download the Burger King app and order the $12.99 Family Bundle so I can pick it up in the drive through.