Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Into the fridge

That was so nice of my commenter yesterday to give me the words to Edith Piaf's song about having no regrets. Thanks, dear anonymous friend. Or, rather, merci beaucoup!

I will have to memorize those lyrics so I can sing that song when I think of Leonard Pennario and my feelings now that he is gone. I have no regrets, it's true.

I'll tell you what I do regret, though: my refrigerator.

Recoiling from it just now, I realized something: As goeth thy life, so goeth thy vegetable crisper. One of my friends once made a joke that when things get out of control down in those nether regions, an alarm should go off, with a robotic voice warning: "Danger. Danger. Produce has liquified." That alarm would sure be going off now in my kitchen, I will say that.

Months on end of flying in and out of town have taken their toll on my Frigidaire. There is this bowl of cabbage I roasted before I left the last time. Roasted cabbage is wonderful but not after you fly to California and back. There is stuff in Tupperware that I cannot come close to recognizing. This morning I took out a carton of cottage cheese that had not even been opened and through the plastic I could see that something was wrong with that, too.

Here I was hoping foolishly that when I die I would be able to go to heaven and see Leonard again and hug him and ask him a few things I forgot to ask him. Ha ha ha HA, as they used to say in Laurel and Hardy. It will be ages before I see Leonard again. I will be in Purgatory for hundreds of years paying for all the food I am wasting.

On the bright side, this blog cheers me up. Yesterday I got to glance at a listing of where our correspondents are tuning in from. Would you believe we have a reader in Africa, in the Ivory Coast? Welcome, reader from the Ivory Coast!

The Ivory Coast has a beautiful name in French: If I remember correctly it is Cote d'Ivoire.

I wonder if that reader was the one who sent me the Piaf lyrics.

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