“Why did you cut my toast like this?” Simon whines. He’s on the verge of tears. This morning I cut the toast the way my mom and dad used to cut my toast- “Like an airplane,” they used to say. “It’s cut like an airplane,” I say to Simon as I take a piece and fly it around his head making airplane sounds. I even throw a round of gunfire sounds for the true effect. The weaponry brings a slight smile to his face as he takes a bite of his toast.
We are all running late this morning. Simon is the only one dressed and at the breakfast table. Ollie is dressed but rummaging outside in his tennis bag (always a bad sign) for money because it’s his 1st day of swim class after school and he wants to be sure he has cash for the vending machines. It’s 7:30- Simon’s and Ollie’s carpool is here already. I help Simon with his socks and shoes and get them out the door.
Back inside, Debbie is folding laundry and there are 3 different alarm clocks going off upstairs. Theo, Henry, and Sam are still in bed each in their various stages of waking up or sleep. There’s a piece of “airplane” toast left on Simon’s plate. I take a bite, this time without the airplane sounds.
Dad, circa 1960 Eglin AFB Pensacola, Florida
Later on that day I am dropping Sam off at his high school tennis practice. He says, “Just drop me off at the corner.” I ask him, “Don’t you want me to drive down the hill and drop you off closer to the courts?” He says, “No, this way you don’t have to make a u-turn. I don’t mind walking.” He gets out of the car and walks down the hill. I watch him from the top of the hill and he’s greeted by a couple of his teammates down below. On my drive back home (after I pulled off a u-turn) I roll down the widow and stick my hand out the window and pretend it’s an airplane.
We are at Chung King, a Schezwan restaurant in San Gabriel. The Kung Pao and Shrimp with Chili is so spicy I’m drinking Chinese beer like water to put out the heat. Back home I’m so thirsty and I have dragon breath. We’ve had very little rain this year I think to myself as I get myself a drink from the chilled water dispenser in the fridge. This is modern luxury. I trace back the source of the water: from the spigot, the filter in the fridge, the filter unit under the sink, the home water filter system mounted on the side of our house (red for hot & blue for cold), a water treatment plant, an aquaduct, several viaducts chanelling water gradually up and down- the water’s potential energy captured by lonely hydroelectric plants along the way, and finally from the snow covered mountains. There’s a map in our bedroom that shows the ratio we all learned in school- “3/4 of the world is covered in water.” Or was it 2/3? I really don’t know. Forget it Jake, it’s not Chinatown it’s the Year of the Dragon.
It’s only the end of January. Our kids’ baseball gloves are laying around the yard untouched since the World Series. The Dodgers are for sale for a healthy 1 billion dollars. Prince Fielder just signed with the Tigers. I’m raking the leaves and I find a baseball in the yard. I pick it up. It’s water logged and it smells like oregano and wild mint. I grip the ball prepared to throw a 2 seam curve ball and do the math in my head. Only 3 months till Opening Day.
Maybe a bit unfair, but not unlucky. Friday the 13th, mid January, upper 70′s, small glassy surf, and the start of a 4 day weekend.
Topanga, Friday the 13th
Ornaments boxed, lights off tree. Next stop for tree; either Ted’s saw for fireplace kindling or the tree-mulch drop off at the park. Just like the season, it’s being recycled. The stuff that makes up the holidays are being put under the house, behind the house , or in closets. Christmas is officially over in the Catanzaro house for another 11 months. Don’t know why, this year it was a bit sad taking it all apart, clean freak that I am, I’m usually I’m eager to dismantle. Maybe it’s because it was Sam’s last complete Christmas at home.
