Merely Difficult

Instead of impossible, I keep reminding us. This next turn-around is the fucking try-works of turn-arounds. First time ever we actually printed out a schedule for D and me, 14th to the 27th we work every day but one. Really, it does look impossible but that's not an option, as the date for the Opening Party is set in stone, committees and volunteers, food, entertainment. It's just like opera, once the flyers go out and the tickets are sold, nothing short of natural disaster can forestall The Opening. We'll be putting up labels as the first guests arrive, the ladder we use for focusing lights will be put away moments before the doors open. In the Combined Arts (where more than one person is involved) this is always the way. I've done close to two hundred shows, maybe more, my memory is faulty, and always, at the end, there is near panic. As if it is the adrenaline produced by panic that is the final motivating force. I need to eat more but the seasons conspires against me, my only cookstove is wood fired and the weather is very hot. I have a hot plate, and over the course of two nights I make a Shrimp Fried Rice that is memorable. I had found a mango/chili sauce at Big Lots, fairly expensive by their standards, six ounces for two bucks, but I like the way it looked, clingy, and bought a bottle. I had caramelized onions and peppers, I had cooked saffron rice, and then I scampied peeled shrimp in butter and the sauce. Very good, I didn't bother with a plate. My first thought, after a few bites, is that I need to take a sample of this to Sara and the Deputy, because it is so good, I think we would agree. I want to see their reaction, after two or three bites, the dry-down, what is left to smell, or taste, or hear. The best meals accumulate notes on the various palettes, they build. Maybe my senses are shot, they could be, I don't know, but I appreciate a deep and dense build-up of tastes that can only be cut with a very strong zinfandel. What we are, where we find ourselves, is craps against a backboard. Roll the dice. Snake eyes.