I did some errands today, starting with picking up a couple french baguettes (for garlic bread), a ciabatta loaf (an herbed portuguese bread) and a few other delectable treats from Eli's at 91st and York, just a few blocks from my apartment. There are other places in the city where one can procure excellent produce, fish and meat, and there are cheaper places to do so as well, but I love Eli's and always will. The last time I'd visited Eli's was in November with my girlfriend and we did some "snack" shopping, so today, while I perused what I needed, I also had, tucked away in my subconscious, our plans for a small summertime party we're going to throw for a few friends. As I made my way from Eli's back to my place it dawned on me, happily, that the pain of the past is as distant and fading in my mind as the warmth and the happiness of both the present and the future is omnipresent in my heart. Yet another sign that when things are right, things really are right.
So I got in and dropped everything from Eli's, as well as a few odds and ends for my dad's birthday (the new Crichton book from Barnes and Noble, a daily Yankee desk calendar and a four-CD collection of classical music), and got to work on prepping the garlic bread. Since I won't be finishing it until tomorrow, I just whipped together a bunch of garlic butter -- a bunch of fresh garlic, mashed into a paste, and mixed with unsalted whipped butter, some flat-leaf parsley (chopped into oblivion) and a small chiffonade of basil. We're also doing a huge baked ziti and, if I have a say, either garlic spinach or brocolli rabbe. One way or the other we'll all do something and finish with a great dinner.
Yet again, despite our not "celebrating" Christmas, this is another strange day among the last four months of many strange days. But as this strangeness is coming to an end, and things are slowly returning to normalcy, there's still a measure of everything not being quite right. Whether it's not spending time with my family like we've done in the past, or just largely being a prisoner in my apartment since I got sick, everything feels a little 'off.' I'm looking forward to recharging this weekend, kicking back, hanging with the family and relaxing. And pulling that atomic garlic bread out from under the broiler, too ;-)
In other news, I spoke to a friend who told me he's planning on relocating to Miami for work; he's a planning consultant for a PR firm so he's going to be in a hot location, both literally and figuratively. He'd been begging me to take him racing on Long Island before my friend who owned a racetrack there decided to up and move to Delray Beach. So now it looks more and more likely I'll be heading out to Miami once my friend gets settled in his new apartment and his new job, and then he and I will make our way to Delray and see what my friend's got in the hangar to borrow for a few forays toward 165MPH. I know he's got two examples of Carrol Shelby's Series I (see pic below) that is more monster than machine, despite being featured in a recent Dr. Pepper commercial with Leeann Rimes and Reba McEntire. So that's something to which I'm looking forward. And since my soon-to-be-a-Miamiian friend owns a Ducate racing bike, he'll probably get a chance to open it up and hit its top speed without worrying about grandma's Cadillac pulling out of a 4PM blue-plate dinner special parking lot, broadsiding him and ending his ride really quickly, permanently. And even if my love of racing has waned with age and the weather, it would be great, for at least a weekend, to enjoy some warm sunshine.
For the most part, between the end-of-year work crunch and the weather and my semi-separation from my family, I am feeling a bit detached but am looking forward to the future. And I'm counting the days when I next get to spend time with my girlfriend in my place with some monkfish and swordfish, a good bottle of cab and some Van Morrison. 2004 is fading, thankfully, and 2005 is no longer "next year" but next week. I'm already starting to smile, and I know she is too. Which reminds me of the "traditional" New Year's Eve song, "Auld Lang Syne."
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and days of Auld Lang Syne.
It's, essentially, a song which reminds us to recall those old friends and relationships which have fallen by the wayside. However, with all due respect to Father Time, I don't want to recall the past; in fact, I'm excited knowing that each new day brings me one day further from the past and closer to where I want to be, both in terms of my family and my girlfriend. So, for the first time in many years, I say: Father Time can kiss my ass :-)
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