12.26.07
Posted in General at 12:13 pm by Nicholas
On Christmas Day, Faith and I decided to see a movie. Naturally, being theater geeks, we chose Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street—which, by the way, I can’t recommend highly enough. It’s a bit abridged from the Broadway production, but still very much worthwhile. So anyway, about halfway through the movie, as Depp slit a series of throats with his straight razor, blood sprayed all over the dingy sets, and bodies fell down a chute into the bakery with a meaty thud, Faith leaned over to me and said, “This is the best Christmas ever!“
She was absolutely right.
Later that day we watched a documentary about the evolution of the English language and I cooked lamb braised in Guinness accompanied by mashed potatoes, green beans, and sautéed mushrooms. I can’t help wishing I’d had the foresight to bake up a couple of meat pies, instead.
I hope your Christmas was just as pleasant.
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12.01.07
Posted in General at 5:12 pm by Nicholas
I was picking up a few essentials at Raley’s (at Watt & Marconi in Sacramento) a couple days ago, and the young man bagging my groceries seemed really intent on helping me to my car. Generally I don’t accept this sort of help — in fact, I’ve never accepted it before — but this guy didn’t ask if I wanted help: he just asked, “Which way to your car?” Since I did have a box of firewood in the cart, I decided to roll with it. I pointed toward one of the exits, and off we went.
He was maybe eighteen, with blond hair, a thick Russian accent, and a valiant attempt at a goatee. On the way to the door, he asked me how I was doing. I told him I was doing well, and asked how he was doing. “Very blessed,” he said. One of those. We continued walking.
In the parking lot, about halfway to my car, he asked where I was from. “Around here,” I said, not wanting to get into a discussion about my recent move away from around there. “Downtown.”
“Can you guess where I’m from?” he asked.
“I’d guess Russia,” I answered — then, gauging his reaction, added, “or maybe the Ukraine.”
“Nope,” he said, a huge grin spreading across his face.
“Where?” I asked.
He nodded up to the sky and said, “Heaven.”
“Fair enough,” I said. At this point I was hoping to head off a sermon about how we’re all from Heaven and have been put here on Earth for some special purpose. I needn’t have bothered.
“Only those whose eyes are truly open can see that I’m from Heaven,” he explained. Then he loaded my purchases into the trunk and told me to have a blessed day. I told him to do the same.
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