Saturday, July 04, 2015

VIEWING THE FOURTH

She left early this morning, having spent her day off yesterday cooking for a social event. When I got in last night (having worked all day), she graciously let me use the kitchen for my small supper of grilled meat and dressed bitter melon with rice stick noodles, then resumed her culinary activities. Bustling, and borderline frenetic.
I wisely headed to the cigar bar for the rest of the evening.
Didn't want to add to her crankiness.
Or get in the way.

I had a cup of strong coffee before I left, and in consequence was wired to the eyebrows when I arrived. Yes, I had a good evening.

[Social event: something holidayish. Grilled meat: treif. Bitter melon: Momocordica charantia, which is one of my favourite vegetables. Many people do not like it, many more haven't tried it. It is crisp, cooks easily, and has a startling taste. Discard the seeds and pith surrounding them before proceeding. Rice stick noodles: actually, 沙河粉 ('saa ho fan') to be precise, not the thin rice vermicelli most people are used to. They cook easily, and I love the texture; soft, slick, slithery, mmm.]



EXILES, ALL

This morning she clanged around in the kitchen, and piled tonnes of food into her car parked outside in the driveway of the apartment building, then wished me and the stuffed animals a good Fourth, and drove off.

My apartment mate's social life is slightly depressing to me. She is a shy woman, and is more noticeably Asperger than me -- heck, she HATES being surrounded by people -- yet, being Chinese, and having kin in the city, she also has the linkages and relational fabric that embed her within groups far better than I can manage.

Socially, I am far more adept as an observer than a participant, albeit slightly resentful of the ability others have to participate. No, I don't want to be the life of the party, but I wouldn't mind a slice of cake once in a while. Parties make me uneasy.


It strikes me that while we were a couple, she interacted with others somewhat as my social lubricant. She resented being dragged to events that involved my crowd, or being introduced to strangers whom I knew, but in a large way that gave me a format for interaction that I haven't had since.
Both of us functioned as insulation, other half, intermediary cog, and each other's interpreter.

She's moved on, and I don't do much of that anymore.

I can't do it by myself.



HOW TO CELEBRATE

So, what did I do on a day marked by backyard barbecues, block parties, keg events, and mass giddiness about our national birth?

Nothing special. I read a book in the quiet apartment, smoked my pipe, walked around a bit outside drinking-in the relative peace of the streets in my neighborhood, went over to Chinatown for a pastry and a hot cup of milk-tea, and enjoyed an early dinner at a restaurant while there, after yet another pipe-full.

Nothing is more American than Chinese food, or tobacco.



No, I probably shan't watch the fireworks later on. All the best vantage points for viewing will be filled with other human beings, there is nobody with whom to go, no one to drag me there, and I'm not a particularly social being, as herds make me feel discommoded. And I would probably feel intensely alone, as well as aware of my oddness.
Especially without the insulation of another person.
Someone for whom one must be gallant.
And accommodating.
Company.



I don't like holidays, now less than before. They always involve too many people, and lacking a co-conspirator with whom to converse, group events always make me feel exposed and self-conscious. It would be nice to have someone, but I am not forward or social enough to make easy contact.

That's probably why I like hanging out in Chinatown, or visiting nearly empty bars occasionally. One can observe, and listen to other people, without being forced into interaction. There is no sense of invasiveness, and the discomfort of feeling "on the spot" is entirely absent.
I very much enjoy having people around me.
But elsewhere focussed.
And not many.

It is impossible to be private at parties; the very fact that one is there demonstrates a contrary premise.



FIRE WORKS

Nob Hill is likely quiet at this hour, especially on the sides facing south and west. I've got a few keen briars in my pocket, and a pouch of matured Virginia tobacco. Soon there shall be booming from the north-east, as well as bursts of fire, faintly visible in the fog. A walk up and over the hill by myself will be just the ticket, as long as I get to the cigar bar before the crowd starts streaming back into the heart of the city. Maybe there will be people there I know, in a mellow mood from their celebrations, but by no means intoxicated to the point of blithering.
A pipe or two, and a glass of whisky will end the day nicely.
I'll probably take a cable car back afterwards.
Very few other passengers.
It should be nice.



AFTER THOUGHT: A SPLENDID RACKET!



[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k6ZZwf_D4BU.]

Happy Fourth of July.
Bang it out.




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2 comments:

Anonymous said...

You could add some sparkle to your 4th of July by doing this:

http://www.reuters.com/article/2015/07/05/us-usa-fireworks-maine-idUSKCN0PF0TY20150705

But I do understand if you decline to celebrate in such a fashion...

M

The back of the hill said...

Lost his head, his eyes lit up, went out with a bang, truly felt the glory of the event, and other ways of expressing that he did the celebration proud.

Probably would've voted for Trump.

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