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Sunday, August 29, 2004

SANDALPHOBE

Three Goths walked by, all dressed in Goth.

"Wouldn't you think they'd be a little hot in those layers and long black pants?" LZ said.

"I don't think they have a choice," I said. "If you sign up, you've got to wear the uniform."

"It's not really that good a look, " LZ said. "Especially when it's in the 90's and the humidity is worse."

I thought this would be the perfect time for me to say, "Remember, it's not the heat, it's the stupidity," but I checked myself. I've said it once a summer for the last few years (always at what I feel is a really opportune moment) but I've never gotten a reaction, so I'm retiring the line.

"You'll notice CB," I said. "You'll never see him in short pants, no matter how hot it is."

"I hadn't noticed," LZ said.

"It's true," I said. "I have noticed."

"I wonder why that is," LZ said.

"Maybe he has knobby knees," I said.

"It's probably some weird guy thing," LZ said. "Like he thinks it's gay for a grown man to wear short pants."

"You could be onto something," I said. "I've got that with sandals. You'll never catch me in sandals."

"There's nothing wrong with sandals," LZ said. "Lots of men wear sandals."

"You know," I said, "if every man I ever saw was wearing sandals, I wouldn't think sandals were in style. I would just think that everyone had turned gay."

"That's ridiculous," LZ said. "Sometimes I think you're becoming a real homophobe."

"I'm not really like that," I said. "It's just this oppressive weather. Making me a little punch drunk. Remember, it's not the heat...."

I didn't get to finish. The phone had started ringing and LZ was running back to the house, well out of earshot.









Monday, August 16, 2004

TORO, TORO, TORO

"I had a dream," I told LZ.

She groaned and rolled over.

"I'm going to tell you about it," I said.

I heard a whimper from under the covers. I felt a kick.

"We were in Charleston," I said. "I knew it was supposed to be Charleston, even though everything behind us was at the Jersey shore."

"Fascinating," said LZ. "I never knew dreams could be all disjointed like that."

"We were standing on a little sidewalk, with boardwalk and the ocean were directly behind us, but we were looking out on a Charleston street full of restaurants and shops."

"Maybe I should get up and takes notes," LZ said.

"Don't worry about that," I said. "I've got the official transcript. You can refer to that if need be."


"So, there was a Japanese restaurant on the left. It had a purple neon sign. I forget the name. Apparently we had eaten there before and were deciding if we should go there again. To our right there was a ramp. There was a Japanese woman and her daughter, about 15 or so, standing on the ramp. They were looking at the restaurant as well."

"'Do you know this restaurant?' she asked you."

"'Yes,' you said. 'It's very good.'"

"'It has a terrible name,' she said. 'Not Japanese.'"

"'Oh,' you said."

"'Is the food good?' the woman asked."

"'Yes,' you said. 'It's very good.'"

"'It is not good.' the woman said. 'Not real Japanese.' By now she was really yelling at you."

"What were you doing when she was yelling at me?" LZ asked.

"Well, I didn't like it," I said. "But I was being an observer at that point. I wanted to see what would happen if I didn't interfere."

"So you didn't stand up for me?" LZ asked.

"I really didn't think it was necessary," I said. "And I was pretty sure it was a dream by that point, because I knew if it was real life I would have been yelling by then."

"Did you ever study logic?" LZ asked. "Or do you just come by this stuff naturally?"

"Then she asked if you liked the sushi," I said. "You said you did, and she got really angry: 'You don't know sushi, sushi there is like rubber,' she shouted. 'Not real fish at all.'"

'"And the salad,' she said. 'Have you tried the salad?'"

"'Yes,' you said, 'I enjoyed it.'"

"'That was not chicken in the salad,' the woman said. 'They use lizard instead of chicken. It is not a good salad.'"

"At this point you were looking at me for help," I said. "So I sort of jerked my head, like we should leave down the other ramp even though I knew it would be the end of the dream."

"That was very noble of you," LZ said.

"The woman saw us starting to leave. 'And one last thing,' she yelled. 'Did you have the sake?'"

"'Yes,' you said. 'And it was very good.'"

"'It was not good.' the woman said. 'Did you see the label? Freestone. Do you think with a name like that it was Japanese sake? Of course not. You do not know sake at all.'''

"'She was right about that'" I told you," I said. "You're not a big sake expert."

"The Japanese woman was a stand-in for you," LZ said. "Even in your dreams you know I can't stand to be quizzed about things, so you dream up a Japanese woman to do it for you and get the blame, while you stand innocently by. That's why you're defending her about the sake too."

"I'm going to get up and make some coffee now," I said. "We've got a couple of kinds out there. Which do you think is best?"













Tuesday, August 03, 2004

I HAVE NO MOUTH AND I MUST EAT

"I've noticed," said LZ, "that the character of you in those blog stories never gets upset. There's craziness and stupidity swirling all around, yet you remain calm."

"Yes, that's true," I said.

"That's how you see yourself?" LZ asked.

"Absolutely," I said. "All of the screaming and yelling I do on the outside means nothing. On the inside I'm as cool and collected as can be."

"I'm glad you cleared that up," LZ said. "Otherwise I wouldn't have realized how...."

"Hold that thought," I said. "I'm gonna go yell at the Things and maybe the dog; I'll be right back."

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"Where were we?" I asked.

"I've also noticed," LZ said, "that the inhabitants of that farm you're running are disproportionately dead, or walking dead, or damaged in some horrible way."

"That is true," I said. "And it's only going to get worse. I'm sending Old Jake Jurvoz and his three brothers over there next. Two of them are already dead.

"And after that, I've got another dead guy with another big head, and a dead slow painter ready to go. Oh, and by the way, I was thinking we should have a cookout over the holiday weekend. How about it?"

"A cookout's fine," LZ said. "But let's keep it on the small side, nice and under control. Not a big blowout"

"No problem," I said.







Monday, August 02, 2004

JURVOZ THROWS A WINGDING

"So, you're having a cookout over the holiday weekend," Jurvoz said.

"Word gets around, I guess," I said.

"I was talking to Fish. He told me."

"Remind me to thank him," I said.

"Are you having sausage?" Jurvoz asked.

"Yes, probably," I said. "I was thinking burgers, dogs, chicken, sausage, the usual cookout stuff."

"Where are you getting the rolls?" Jurvoz asked.

"I haven't thought it out that far yet," I said.

"For burgers and dogs, the rolls don't matter," Jurvoz said. "I don't really eat burgers and dogs. But for sausage, you've got to get your rolls from Bronzini's Bakery."

"They are good," I said. "But that's all the way up in Little Calabria."

"I'll pick them up for you," Jurvoz said. "How many do you want?"

"Two dozen should be good," I said.

"Only two dozen?" Jurvoz asked.

"It's a cookout, not a sausage party," I said.

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"Who was on the phone?" LZ asked.

"Jurvoz," I said. "He's invited himself and two dozen rolls to the cookout."

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"It's me," Jurvoz said.

"What's up?" I said.

"Have you been thinking about what I said? About the rolls? They've got to be Bronzini's, remember?"

"I thought you were going to pick them up," I said.

"Did I?" Jurvoz asked. "I guess I could do that. As a favor. Otherwise, your sausage sandwiches won't be any good at all."

"Thanks," I said.

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JA stopped by.

"I saw Jurvoz the other night," he said. "Says he's helping you out with your barbeque, sort of like a cohost. Picking up rolls and a bunch of other stuff that you hadn't thought of."

"Like a cohost," I said.

"Jurvoz says it's going to be quite a wingding," JA said.

"He said that? Wingding?"

"Those were his words," JA said. "Sounds like it's going to be quite an affair."
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"Do I look like someone who would have a wingding?" I asked LZ.

"No," she said. "You don't."

"I didn't think so," I said. "But apparently I'm to be involved in one."

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John K was on the phone. "Jurvoz called about the big blowout you're having. Just wanted to let you know we'll all be there. The whole gang."

"Great," I said.

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I called my brother. "On your way over tomorrow, can you stop at Bronzini's and get a couple of dozen rolls for sausage sandwiches?"

"No problem," he said.

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The cookout was in full swing when Jurvoz pulled up. He handed me a white grocery bag.

"SuperFood Giant," I said. "What's this?"

"The rolls you wanted," Jurvoz said. "I didn't have time to get over to Bronzini's, so I stopped at the supermarket. Don't worry, these are just as good, probably better. Bronzini's has been going downhill."

"No problem," I said. I stashed his supermarket rolls in the kitchen and brought out the Bronzini ones that my brother had picked up.

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Jurvoz was holding court from a lawn chair strategically placed between the grill and the keg. He waved me over.

"These sausage sandwiches are great," he said. "This is my third one. I was just telling these guys here, the key to a sausage sandwich is the roll. You've got to have a fresh roll with the right consistency. It's all in the roll."

"I hadn't heard that," I said. "Thanks for bringing me into the loop."







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