Tuesday, August 30, 2005

The Gauntlet

I was overfull with excess of everything.  I sat on a wooden chair with a straight back and a cushioned seat, and they came over and sat on either side of me.  They bore expressions of earnest concern and reserved skepticism.  The evening lay heavy on my lap.

The one turned toward me, placing her elbow on the table.

You know, we’ve got Jews here too.

She leaned in almost imperceptibly.

They bury their own.

She paused, briefly, respectfully.  Her face was wrinkled like recycled wrapping tissue.

So, she continued: you want some pie?

I, too, paused. 

What kind of pie?

The other responded immediately:

That’s okay, we’ll get you some of each. 

They returned with a plate bearing a quarter each of four different pies.  The matter was closed.

reads like a strange dream

wtf?  :)

I’ll tell ya, them crazy jews are everywhere. And don’t get me started on the gentiles…

Pie, I like pie, but not apple after that American Pie movie. Just can’t seem to get myself to eat it anymore!

this is such a deep part of my life that it feels like a dream, but reading it now this morning I can see how it lacks a certain context.  Here’s some: thanksgiving at the new girlfriend’s house, confronted by her grandmother and great-aunt after a very big meal.  Once I finished *all* the pie, I was family.  they nearly buried me, but I was their own at that point.

hahahahaha! God love those Pennsylvanian grandmothers and great aunts! Mine are all gone now, but boy, they sure did put our boyfriends through their paces before they would accept them. And food was almost always their favorite test… never refuse any and clean your plate! I remember when they tested my Filipino boyfriend from college. Fortunately, he grew up in Allentown, PA and knew what to expect. He thought my “Dutchy” relatives were cute.

Congrats on passing that long-ago test.

I recognized the scene. When the time came to meet the folks, I brought an Egyptian back to PA. You can imagine what they fed him.

OK...lots of questions coming up out of that post but the one screaming the loudest is, “WHAT KIND OF PIES????” ‘Cause I really, really, really love pie.

I love how Certain People do that—any time they meet someone who is unlike themself, they consider them not just a minority, but a rarity, an oddity. “Your friend in San Fran is gay? Ask him if he knows my uncle Allen from NY!”

but at least you passed their test—good job, with the whole burying-your-dead thing. My people just lift the wallet and leave the scene of the crime!

They way to the man’s heart and the way to win the family’s heart - always the stomach.

Very smart for all persons involved.

;-)

"They bury their own.” Geez, talk about nothing to talk about.