Something reminded me of Thanksgiving today. Which, as you know, is an all-American holiday celebrated by people who are profoundly grateful that they are not middle-aged old grumps lacking kin or loved ones in the area where they live which is San Francisco. The normally inclined.
Married or related, with two kids, cat, dog, and goldfish.
It's like Christmas and Passover in that regard.
Also celebrated by regular folk.
Last year I did not celebrate. Nothing unusual there. Instead I spent several days dwelling on the unfairness of it all, and feeling profoundly grumpy. This year I know exactly what I'm going to do. I shall head down to Chinatown, and have a club sandwich and a hot cup of Hong Kong Style Milk Tea at the Washington Bakery and Restaurant.
I might even have TWO hot cups of tea!
San Francisco is a much happier place if you wear a sweater. Ever since the middle of April it has been cold and rather gloomy here, which will continue from now pretty much until Christmas, briefly interrupted by an anaemic Indian Summer of all of two weeks anytime between the end of July and Halloween.
Thanksgiving in Chinatown, especially for the single male grumpy pipe-smoker, absolutely requires a nice warm sweater. If I am not spending the festive day with anyone else, it will probably NOT be a particularly clean sweater. Instead, it will be kind of fusty because of all the pipe-tobacco it has been around, and require a stitch or two here and there. There may be an elbow hole, invisible underneath my jacket or coat.
After all, who would need to be impressed?
香港式嘅公司三文治
The Hong Kong style club sandwich
Fried egg, avocado, bacon, lettuce, tomato. All between toast. With a small quantity of very decent French fries in the centre of the plate. There's a jar of chilipaste on the table. It's all very clean, bright, and cheerful looking, and everything within their sandwich is fresh. The careful and conscientious construction of this edible art was sealed with a cocktail pick through each quarter sandwich, The streetscape outside, visible from the front tables, features people traversing the pavement, such as middle-aged ladies and their teenage children, grampa and his adorable little granddaughter, uncles heading home for dinner, aunties gabbing about shopping, and young couples looking for a quiet place to eat and hold hands.
Plus baffled tourists and the occasional loony.
It's a splendid place to hide from everyone.
The people who work there know me.
But I am otherwise invisible.
It's very reassuring.
Comfy.
Other holidays coming up which I may spend there: Fathers Day, July Fourth, Saint Swithin, Labour Day, Rosh Hashana, Simchas Torah, my birthday, The Feast of Crispian, Halloween, Saint Nicholas Day.
Plus Christmas, New Years, and Valentine's Day.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
THEIR NATURAL HABITAT
There are more dogs in this neighborhood than children. One very rarely sees people walking their children outside when one is, hypothetical...
No comments:
Post a Comment