Stuffing

I think it's safe to say the eating frenzy is now over. This was the first Thanksgiving I've spent away from home. It was inevitable. Things change and we just have to go with them. It was really great still being able to cook for people, though. Joe and I tag-teamed on a few things for Thanksgiving dinner at his house. It was fun. I love feeding people and seeing their faces and hearts gratified by the gesture. And I love it even more when things taste they way they're supposed to. I think out of all the things I made for dinner this year, the stuffing had to be the best. It had several different herbs, sweet Italian sausage, apples, onions, bellpeppers, celery, crumbled cornbread and stale bread. Man, it was good! There are a few leftovers so we'll see how long they last. Just a few more weeks until Christmas and the eating begins yet again.

When I spoke to my parents earlier, I was really missing them. My poor Mom - she was threatening to go somewhere if Dad didn't take her anywhere. I can't blame her. When she's working all the time, it's nice to be able to do thing you can't normally do, like go to freakin' Jackson where all the lovely clinking and blinking machines area! I can't believe how often they go there. Maybe it just seems more often to me since I talk to them during their down time when they really want to go. It's more Mom's will than Dad's. I assured her that we were all going to be there for Christmas so she's looking forward to that. I told her I'd cook again since she missed the turkey I made last year. That was a great ego booster. I didn't think she was impressed at all by the food I cooked last year. I guess I'll just have to take it up a few notches to top what I did last year. Too bad Manong Bong isn't going to be there for Christmas this year. I was going to enlist his help.

I'm feeling a bit nostaligic. I don't know where it's coming from. Maybe it's just the season. I was just watching a program on BET Jazz which highlighted teenagers in a jazz band, sponsored by The Grammy Foundation. The vocalists were awesome! For some reason, I'm always brought back to San Francisco whenever I hear jazz. It reminds me of the days I would sit in my room listening to KJZZ while the rain was hitting the rooftop or sitting in Phelan or Lone Mountain watching the fog roll in. I remember the few times I would sit in my living room on 5th Ave., listening to the cars go whizzing by or the bus arrive and leave at the nearby stops. I miss the act of getting motivated to take the MUNI in hopes that the ride wouldn't be too long or too crowded. The 38 Geary would get super crowded on weekends and during rush hour. Whoever thought of the commuter buses were geniuses! Every MUNI ride was an interesting one. Out of all the lines, the 33 Stanyan was the one I dreaded the most. My cousins and I used to call that line, "The Ghost." One time I waited in the rain for about an hour or so just so I could meet up with Manong Bong, Manang Juzen and Manong Ped at the Castro Apartment for our weekly family dinner! I miss the sweeping vistas and all the greenery. The sound of jazz really reminds me of the busy city, how life just keeps rolling by, no matter what you do to try to make it stop. The synchopated beat of jazz embodies the fast and slowness of life; one minute, you're going so fast you can hardly hold your breathe and the next moment, all is calm, chill. Different types of jazz reminds me of different types of people. When my friends and I were all in PMC, we would have periodic dance breaks. That's where I learned all these moves to Latino dances. I had many Latino friends at the time and they were all up in the mix with the cumbia, salsa, and merengue. I remember one time, my dear friend Goodman, asked our friends, Rita & Chris to do a workshop on salsa for his program, in honor of Cinco de Mayo. Even though Rita & Chris were in the know about salsa originating in the tropics rather than Mexico, they still politely accepted the invitation and taught the group cumbia instead. Jazz is the basis of many of the different types of music I listen to. Thus, it would only make sense for me to remember certain memories based on music.

Smells bring me back, as well. I recognize the smell of the seasons. I can tell when Autumn or Spring is coming. I remember smells from when I was a child, down to the type of lotion my mom used to use and how that felt when I would put it on during a sweltering summer day in Stockton. Those were the types of days we couldn't leave the house until the sun had already gone down. It was painful to stay inside the house all day but it would have been more painful to step outside when the sun was at it's hottest. I have yet to recognize different smells according to the seasons down here in LA. It's hard to distinguis the seasons here at all! It was in the mid to low 60s here today but it felt as if it was in the low to mid 70s! I could have worn shorts today! AND IT'S NOVEMBER!

It's in the low to mid 40s right now and it's freezing in the house. I feel like I'm in an ice chest. Thank goodness for my personal heater. It keeps my room nice and toasty. Makes me want to go to sleep. 'Til next time.