Dinner Guests

Strippers have to eat too. A convoluted story that began years ago, when my Mom was making costumes for exotic dancers. She said it was the best job she ever had because it was nearly all profit and she was always paid in cash. Seems there's a kind of stripper underground communication network. I had misunderstood, I didn't actually know either of these women, but they knew a woman who still had some of the specific holiday costumes my Mom had made for her, and when this woman, learned that Bonnie and Jess were doing a gig in Columbus, they should try and find me, because I was supposed to be a good cook and lived an interesting lifestyle. Fascinating evening. Made a great dinner, tenderloin medallions with morel sauce and a vegetable dish that I haven't named yet; quite complex as it involves roasted items and caramelized items, then simmered in a chunky roasted tomato sauce, served on saffron rice. They were surprised that I just broke the bread. I guess they expected slices. The conversation was wonderful because it was so honest, I could ask them anything and they could ask me anything. Both bright, both single moms, both put themselves through college, stripping; knew they could bank 6 or 8 more years. There's been some surgery involved. Bonnie was aware of the upcoming water crisis, and we talked about that, water being the new oil. They seemed interested that I composted my shit, giggled about peeing in the yard, remembering times they had. April, the art teacher at Portsmouth High, called, just after I came in the door this morning, wanted to bring her art classes over, so I opened early, public service. I think April's hot. From my position as staff overseer. She wears odd clothes, which is always a giveaway, a tell, as they say. She doesn't care, that much, about what she looked like. I'm confused, really, at this point, I'd probably been drinking. There was never anything approaching recreational sex, that must have been a joke that I missed. I'm not around strippers that often. They're both asleep upstairs, one of them snores slightly, nothing to shake the ground, a quiet combination, because I'm listening to the Cello Suites and they sweep me away. The trillium are spectacular, where you find them. You can eat wild asparagus, rip roe from a live herring, but you really just need to be there, in the spring, when winter is finally over, so you can preen a bit, fluff your tail-feathers, dig some roots.

That pileated woodpecker
sounds like a drum solo,
a modern piece of music.

Tom

What is modern? What is a piece of music? What is a video that tries to capture that? Other fish to fry. What I'll say to you tomorrow.