Did everyone have a nice Christmas?? I hope so. I did. It was nice. I love a relaxing little stay on Long Island. It allows to appreciate the abject trashiness of where I come from (in both the senses of place and people).
Anyway, the real story is that my mother hosted our family on Saturday and my parents' friends on Sunday. This resulted in an unreasonable amount of work for such a trim woman. Did she fold under the pressure? Probably not, but it was spotty for a few moments, such as when she served our guests uncooked shrimp and when, while standing in front of an open oven, platter or broccoli in front of her, bag of Sorrento mild cheddar in hand, she flailed at it, held it out to me, and with heartbreak in her eyes, said, "I don't know who designs these bags."
I replied, "Mother, I think I'd like to design cheese bags."
"NOT NOW," she barked as cheese flew across our oven.
Anyway, I love Christmas, and I hope the joy of the season (THE VERY SECULAR JOY OF THE SEASON, that is) finds its way into the cockles of all your hearts, dear readers.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to tend to my black baby.
Kevin.
PS-- I'd just like to salute Wee Iconis for being the best storyteller who ever lived. Last night, she told a story that lasted about half an hour and spanned topics including moonshine, burning down houses, choking on bones, Wee being put in jail at age 19 months, Norma Shearer's personal secretary, and Barry Goldwater. I love her.
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