We were pretty busy this evening. A woman whose project D supervised
successfully defended the whole shebang today, so we met her for
drinks and snacks at a local (make that THE local) Italian restaurant.
I had wine and an okay calamari appetizer. Two glasses of house merlot
(only the finest boxes served) later we hauled home to feed the dogs
and walk down the block to a neighborhood dinner we were invited to.

That's where the strangeness comes in. Have you ever felt like you
were in a rough draft for a Mark Allan Stamaty cartoon?
http://home.earthlink.net/~copacetic...edsDonuts.html Or
an early rehearsal for one of those ramblingly endearing Robert Altman
films of the 70s?

First, aside from some irritating students in the rent house across
the street, we appear to be the only non-retired people on the block.
Geezerama. And I say this with the full knowledge that I'm 75%
geezer, myself. (See student observation above.) Several of the
revelers are looking 90 dead in the eye. Then there was the curious
buffet laid out on a ping pong table--if it ain't fried, it ain't
food. Well, there were watermelon chunks and potato salad, too. And
the huge living room with three -- 3 -- upright pianos in it. The
hostess lives alone. Three pianos?

Oddly only one of them was played by the three women who in succession
served up hymns, standards, boogie, and more. Tonight I found myself
singing along with a geriatric chorus to "The Tennessee Waltz," "Waltz
Across Texas With You" (Can't beat Ernest Tubb, try as you might),
"Great Balls of Fire," "Your Cheatin' Heart" (Okay, Hank beats Ernest
by some counts), "Amazing Grace," and Lord knows what else. "Honky
Tonk Angels" crept in somewhere. The retired librarian to my right
asked at one point what the song was, and my only reply was that it
wasn't Dylan. I must've done pretty well, though. I was invited to
join the Methodist choir before the night was done.

Being neighborly and supporting young scholars got me a little food,
but I believe I'll need a snack before bed. Here's my plan. I have a
little leftover grilled sirloin in the fridge. Together with some
shredded baby romaine, some shredded cabbage and carrots, some roasted
peanuts, some sliced cucumber, and some sliced red onion, it'll become
a salad. Dressing will be nuoc mam, lime juice, minced serrano chile,
brown sugar, olive oil, black pepper, and minced fresh herbs like mint
and basil. Hell, I might boil some soba noodles for it all, too.

As I sleep, I'll dream of Methodist choirs and Hank and Ernest. It
was deeply strange. Truly.


modom