Udzielenie Wdzieznosci

Much to my relief, my workday slowly grinds to a close. Only another half hour or so left. It was an unexciting day and I'll be glad when it's over.

The highlights have been A) the flawless performance of my transmission and B) reading The Story of English. I suppose another highlight was the free cuppa joe I got at Ancora. The baristas there are a bunch of hoopy froods. Regarding the first: i got my car back yesterday evening. The cab was about 20 minutes late which was enormously frustrating considering the fact that I called them an hour before I actually needed a lift thinking that such an advance notice would ensure timely execution. So much for that theory. I got to the shop just after they closed but was still able to grab the car. Hastily (and nervously) I pulled out onto E. Wash. I was delighted to find that the gears shifted correctly and smoothly. If I may quote The Boss, who was here in Madison today, she's hummin' like a turbojet. Sorry. "Open All Night" popped into my head.

As I remarked above, my current read is quite good. Either I was an etymologist in a former life or the combination of curiosity & several years of Latin classes has endowed me with a fascination about language. I just find discovering the origins of words to be endlessly cool. And there's plenty of that. E.g. - The Latin word evangelium was transliterated into Old English as god-spell which eventually morphed into gospel. Yeah, I know this is trivial but I could read this stuff for ages and not get bored with it all. I'm getting a bit giddy with anticipation of reading the section on The Great Vowel Shift. What this says about me, I don't wanna know.

Aside from learning about the origins of words, there's also plenty of history involved, which is another joy. You've got the Anglii, the Saxons, and the Jutes storming into the British Isles causing the Celts to take refuge behind the Cambrian Mountains. There's also the Vikings wanting a piece of the pie running roughshod over the poormonks at Lindisfarne.

I found out today that I’ll be working the Friday of Thanksgiving week. This has thrown into doubt any trip to Chicago for holiday on my part. Driving down for a few hours and then driving back to Madison holds no thrill for me. Maybe I shall. But I’ve got time to decide. One thing that tempts me to stay here in town is the chance for some good old introspection. You see Thanksgiving, although not a particularly significant holiday when compared to, say, Christmas, is one that has a lot of meaning for me. And this year will be my first without my father. While there have been many firsts without my father alive these past seven months since his death, Thanksgiving looks to be significant. This day was a favorite of my dad’s. He was an atheist and so he was never very fond of religious holidays. But Thanksgiving allowed him to don the culinary white lab coat and be mad scientist for a day.

His holy grail was an elusive elixir he called “The Perfect Gravy”. It was of just the right consistency with exactly balanced flavors. Of course, he never found the formula but it was all in watching him try. A Jacob’s Ladder sitting on the counter would have been the perfect backdrop. He would be found hunched over the stove diligently stirring a pan of turkey drippings bolstered with some stock for what seemed like a longer span of time than it took the turkey to cook. As a kid, it drove me nuts as I wanted to chow down. As an adult, it gave time to sit around sipping wine and chatting. Over the years, the location and dramatis personae changed, but the filial enrapture of watching the old man in pursuit of his holy grail didn’t. Well, not until a couple years ago.

When my stepmom fell ill with cancer a few years ago, Thanksgiving changed. While there was a dark cloud overhead, we still managed to be festive, to be thankful that Joni was still alive. After her death, Thanksgiving became an ordeal. An ordeal of dealing with a grieving father who drank himself into stupors of tears. Those fourth Thursdays of November in 2001 & 2002 are days I’d rather forget. Last year my dad was living in Louisiana and I here in Wisconsin. We didn’t spend it together but we did talk on the phone. His death in March laid to rest the possibility of spending another holiday together.

I’ve been threatening to take a day and dedicate to some kind of remembrance of my father. For whatever reason, I haven’t gotten around to doing that but I think Thanksgiving would provide an opportune moment to do so. Stevie and Becca will be with family in Portage so I’ll have the house to myself. I can just sit around and look at pictures -- think of him. (And of him in me.)

After finishing The Power of Black Music earlier this week, I had this urge to explore my heritage. The author was black and the book was obviously much more than a mere academic exercise for him. It was about his culture, about his people – it was about him. Before that, I had read Bill Malone’s Don’t Get Above Your Raisin’ so my brain box was inundated with ideas of culture, how it changes, and notions of how it gives a sense of place. It got me thinking of trying to find some discipline and actually undertake an exploration of a bit of my heritage. I’m a bit of a mutt so I would have to choose one of four bloodlines: German, English, Ruthenian (Rusyn), and Polish. Right now I’m leaning towards all things Polish. Not only do I already have an album of Polish folk music, but that Polish deli opened up on Monroe Street. It would be fun to explore the music more thoroughly and expand my Polish culinary bounds beyond pierogi, bigos, and various sweet treats such as kolacky. Plus I could avail myself of the opportunity to learn a spot of the language. After all, I do have a Polish for Beginngers type book. Perhaps, after I learn some conversational Polish, I can head down to Chicago and try it out on those hotties at all those delis and bakeries on Milwaukee Street by my mom’s place. No doubt I’d get a lot of short red roses. I suppose this would also mean that I’d have to start reading Stanislaw Lem – just not in the original quite yet.