Tupperware containers are like pallets: objects which create their own diaspora. To echo the insufferable Patek Philippe ad, you never own tupperware but merely hold it for the next generation (of cookie-eaters).
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The handprint turkey
lacks harem or lek --
a right-hand tracing
can but exit stage left.
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The Village disaster sirens were tested at 10:30 on December 1st, as per usual first Tuesday practice. After the disorientation of the long holiday, I thought: "Thank God! We're back to normal."
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Just before Thanksgiving, I with two friends heard Barbara Ehrenreich speak on her current and immediately prior books. She thus contrasted the historical human need for ritual public expressions of joy, most notably dancing, with our current oppressive (and commercialized) insistence that individuals must think only happy thoughts.
The three of us then listening are descendants of Irish, Irish and Irish/Kashub. In other words, we all pour scotch on our Cheerios. We're now daring each other to engage in entirely uncharacteristic bouts of public dancing, to test our joy quotient. As feast and market days are hard to trip across these days, surely this means folk-dancing. Am I the only one for whom rick-rack at the bottom of a swing-skirt = despair?
The only entity to find rick-rack festive is the handprint turkey.
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Not sure what a rick-rack is, nor a swing skirt, but dance, dance, dance!
ReplyDeleteRick Rack.
ReplyDeleteSwing Skirt.
And yes, we all must finagle more more more dancing in this life. My: it really is a correlate for joy, isn't it?
Unless, of course, we're trapped in scripted festivities, like conga lines at weddings. And just like that, we're back at Thanksgiving.