This Morning
This morning I am thinking about Thomas Lux's poem "Refrigerator, 1957."** Like the maraschino cherries, sometimes we find things that make us happy and also give us insight into ourselves.
My own refrigerator. A few days ago, I came home from work excited because I remembered I had a KFC Lemon Bucket Parfait waiting for dessert. Besides thinking about how yummy it was going to be, I also realized I hadn't had one in months upon months, and how the last time must have been when I lived in Auburn, and how I think it was Dad who first got me somewhat addicted to them. Something as trivial as a KFC Lemon Bucket Parfait, in other words, made me feel happy - because it was scrumptous and because it delineated part of my past.
The rest of my refrigerator. There are things I've eaten for years and still buy. Things like carrots and cauliflower and apple sauce and pierogies and tuna and the ingredients for homemade burritos. Usually these foods are just that - food - food that I cook because I'm hungry and because I need to eat them before they can't be eaten anymore. But other times I steam vegetables and delight in how tasty they are, and sit in front of the television watching a movie with the lights dim after a day of work of complaints and grief, and it's an escape to be eating my carrots and cauliflower. Then I think that I started eating steamed vegetables because I lived for over a month in Canada, and if I hadn't done that, I wouldn't be enjoying this moment of satisfaction. OR, I eat tuna mixed with mayonnaise and am reminded of Dad making these sandwiches for me as a lad and that I still make tuna sandwiches as he did; OR, I eat a burrito and remember my grandparents in California teaching me how to make them and all the times I've visited them, awakening at 6 a.m. and watching Mark S. Allen on Good Day Sacramento and raking leaves and visiting Josie at Raley's.
There are all sorts of things like these in our lives which bring us happiness and tell us something about ourselves, which we usually overlook.
But enough. I need to take a shower. Back to banality.
**http://plagiarist.com/poetry/1807/
My own refrigerator. A few days ago, I came home from work excited because I remembered I had a KFC Lemon Bucket Parfait waiting for dessert. Besides thinking about how yummy it was going to be, I also realized I hadn't had one in months upon months, and how the last time must have been when I lived in Auburn, and how I think it was Dad who first got me somewhat addicted to them. Something as trivial as a KFC Lemon Bucket Parfait, in other words, made me feel happy - because it was scrumptous and because it delineated part of my past.
The rest of my refrigerator. There are things I've eaten for years and still buy. Things like carrots and cauliflower and apple sauce and pierogies and tuna and the ingredients for homemade burritos. Usually these foods are just that - food - food that I cook because I'm hungry and because I need to eat them before they can't be eaten anymore. But other times I steam vegetables and delight in how tasty they are, and sit in front of the television watching a movie with the lights dim after a day of work of complaints and grief, and it's an escape to be eating my carrots and cauliflower. Then I think that I started eating steamed vegetables because I lived for over a month in Canada, and if I hadn't done that, I wouldn't be enjoying this moment of satisfaction. OR, I eat tuna mixed with mayonnaise and am reminded of Dad making these sandwiches for me as a lad and that I still make tuna sandwiches as he did; OR, I eat a burrito and remember my grandparents in California teaching me how to make them and all the times I've visited them, awakening at 6 a.m. and watching Mark S. Allen on Good Day Sacramento and raking leaves and visiting Josie at Raley's.
There are all sorts of things like these in our lives which bring us happiness and tell us something about ourselves, which we usually overlook.
But enough. I need to take a shower. Back to banality.
**http://plagiarist.com/poetry/1807/
posted by Anonymous at 10:25 AM
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