Still in Baltimore/DC
Tuesday, October 23, 2007 at 07:10AM I love chopping wood. I think I do because I don't have to anymore. It's like why grandparents are so loving. They don't have to, it's just a pleasant option.
But Sarah's parents have a bunch of wood in the back yard and whenever I'm here I slink away from the living room chat and get Medieval on the timber. Sarah's family thinks it's a bit weird but then again the first time Sarah's mom ever met me I was wearing a cape and had "Crime Fighter" shaved into my chest. And I was really drunk. So to see me come so far as to be able to handle an ax without hurting myself and others must be a nice consolation.
Today Sarah is going to take me to one of her favorite places in the world--Ikea. I've avoided a visit to the Swedish retail giant for ten years of our relationship. Now that she's up all night taking care of Crazy Q while my morbidly out of shape body collapses after a thirty minutes of cutting firewood, I'll do whatever she says.
Tomorrow we're heading to DC to see my uncle. He could be one of the most talented and diverse people on the planet. He's in his 80s now (and uses a computer!) and he's fodder for a Tom Clancy book. He was part of the Underwater Demolition Team during WWII and was a pioneer in turning that group of explosive-handling nuts into the Navy Seals. He then went on to a career as a counter-insurgency specialist, eventually joining the Pentagon's Joint Chiefs of Staff.
And I like choppin' wood.
But the coolest part about Quin's Great-Great Uncle is that he left his military career to go back to college and expand his horizons as an artist, writer and journalist. Oh, and politically he sometimes falls near my rhetorical stomping grounds. So he's like my black friend. You know how white people love to invoke their black friend whenever in conversations about race, well now I can say "my uncle was in the military and he says..." and unwittingly drag this most-accomplished man into any of my impromptu, beer-driven political debates. He's had better distinctions.
Back in Baltimore the food is good and the cable is free. Watching the Broncos beat the Steelers had me getting all superstitious like I need to be in a different state before they could win. Maybe "drunken" will help save on the driving.
Sarah's parents live in a modest house on the edge of Baltimore. They bought it in 1969 and shortly thereafter all the white people moved away. Apparently they didn't get the memo and have hunkered down for the long haul. Although this is one of those "ethnic" neighborhoods that's attracting shiny Caucasian couples in Jettas who proudly announce to their friends that "they've discovered a most unique neighborhood" where they can actually afford a house. "Unique" meaning "these black people scare the shit out of me."
But in the quaint confines of Grandma's kitchen she whips up some marvelous food. She's from Ohio and in the Midwest you don't do Doritos and peanut butter for dinner (or whatever it is that Sarah and I can find to avoid actually cooking). Every meal is like a church potluck. And she should be put on a council that motivates kids to eat vegetables. She's able to suspend entire buffets into Jello molds. So you get carrots and broccoli and a glazed ham all while enjoying a lemon-lime dessert.
Finally, congratulations to Paco. He's used his cute doggy powers to overcome the household rule of no dogs on the furniture. An assist should go to Quin who has done his part to distract the older humans from everything from local gang activity, Maryland's drought, California's apocalyptic fires, sleep and furry couches.
And now...back to the wood.
Reader Comments (2)
But it sounds like you're having fun on the road; appreciate the stories of your travel.
All the best!
dan