Why I Won't Order a Beverage When I Dine At That Fine Mumbai Restaurant

[mallorys_camera]

Had a much merrier New Years Eve this year than I have for some years past which has made me… tentatively… optimistic. I’ve always been superstitious about New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, imagining the year ahead encapsulated in them somehow in obscure symbolic ways, a miniature landscape in a snow globe. In 2007, for example, I spent the whole night feeling terribly alienated, wandering like Elijah amidst various lame First Night activities – I mean, come on: if ever there’s a time to drink, it’s New Year’s Eve, right? – Thinking: I’m not like them… Not in the snide, superior way you may be imagining but more like Vincent Van Gogh back when he still had two ears but knew in his heart he was different.

2008 certainly followed suit.

This year, on the other hand, B and I went to see Slumdog Millionaire before cruising which gave the still undeniably lame First Night celebrations a certain Bollywood appeal. Loved Slumdog Millionaire, loved-loved-loved it: Scherazade, meet Oliver Twist. Loved it so much, in fact, that on New Year’s Day I went back to see it again, this time dragging Robin – who’d decamped to Seaside and a pal’s new Playstation 2 on the Eve itself and thus missed the familial movie excursion. Second time around I was able to delight in such details as the restaurant scene when Salim roots around in a bin of empty mineral water bottles, selects the right brand, fills it from the tap and glues the cap on in response to a customer’s beverage order. It’s little touches like this that make the film a work of genius compared to the ever-so-eh-itude of a movie like Milk that takes itself so-o-o damn seriously. Max dragged me to see that one. I really should have put my foot down.

My New Year’s resolutions were to socialize more and to give stuff away. To that second end I joined the local chapter of The Freecycle Network and already have a date to get rid of the perfectly functional bunk beds that have been out on the back porch since last summer. Yeah, yeah, I could sell them for $30 on Craig’s List. This way they’re going to a family of 6 kids whose breadwinner just lost his job.

To the former end I have a movie date with the fabulous Marybeth this afternoon and had a long, interesting conversation with my immensely gravid cousin Alicia this morning on the phone. She is thinking of naming the baby “Tennyson Jacinto” – perhaps that’s the reason why it doesn’t want to come out. Tennyson, of course, was our grandfather’s middle name – Alfred Lord Tennyson Vogel, to be precise. Perfectly trendy name now that Russell Crowe used it on one of his spawn, and of course, I appropriated it as Robin’s middle name. Jacinto was Jay Steinhardt’s real name – he was born in Cuba.

During the course of our conversation we discussed the family madness. I was shocked to discover that Alicia doesn’t consider herself immune to it: “Are you kidding me? That’s why I’m so into sports, Patty – when you exercise you don’t feel it.”

Who knew?

I have the Big Conversation coming up on Wednesday. I don’t know what the outcome will be or even what I want the outcome to be. I actually got Christmas presents from my customers this year. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of another store that customers give stuff to. I love the Little Store and obviously they do too but it’s an illusion that’s been sustained with my ectoplasm as well as with my money. And now I’m broke and I’m bled dry.

Nor do I have a clue what else I can do. I’m good at a lot of things. But there are no jobs in Monterey. Scary? Yes.

Rereading The Go-Between for the upteenth time. L.P. Hartley takes some kind of prize for the Best Use of Semi-Colons In the English Language Ever.

Comments

[wailaki.livejournal.com]

What if you moved The Little Store to somewhere else? Somewhere that has foot traffic and cheaper rent? Is that possible? Instead of being stuck in a dungeon?

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

Oh, Alta -- I'm sick of the whole fucking thing actually. If the Little Store doesn't work here, I want to do something else. Maybe an exciting new career as a WalMart greeter. I dunno. There are a couple of public policy jobs I'm looking at -- that'll be the big growth sector in the recovery years. We'll see... Wish there was some way I could program in a week of utter nothingness, lying on a couch somewhere watching endless loops of The Real Housewives of Orange County, pretending I don't have a brain.

[lethe1]

Happy New Year! May it be a lot better than the last.

Good luck on the Big Conversation, and I second wailaki's suggestion.

I'm trying to decide whether that is a manipulated photo or a painting (made on the computer?).

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

manipulated photo or a painting

Mixed media actually -- I took an old photo, scanned it on to a piece of heavy grain drawing paper, painted on it and doodled with craypas.