It's Wake Up Time, Time to Get Going

4th of July after work party 

After riding home in the heat and seeing families barbecuing in the parks and in yards along the way, I wanted to create a small spread that felt as close to an outdoor picnic, even though it was getting dark and we were stuffed inside a tiny apartment.  I made chili dogs on my cast iron grill pan and toasted the sweet brioche buns.  I balled the watermelon, which somehow makes it pop in your mouth differently, the juice bursts.  I made a fresh frozen strawberry shake, chips and dips.  Together, it was enough of a holiday vibe to celebrate but we doubled down and for some reason ended up singing Tom Petty songs while P played on guitar, which I had no business participating in, but could not resist this new tradition.  The 4th became a bittersweet holiday after my brother passed a couple of days before a few years ago, but because of that, its also more sacred.  Sometimes you celebrate life for the ones that didn't have enough time to do everything they wanted.  My brother lived circles around my meager little life.  He left a big beautiful, loved family and I don't even have a cat, so I feel a bit of obligation not to squander precious time. 

My beautiful brother with his lovely wife 

If You're Lost You Can Look and You Will Find Me

Brother David and his wife, then teen girlfriend Betty who he would marry at 17 and remain with until he died. 

Brother passed near this holiday, the 4th of July, so now I equate hot dogs to him, which is fitting since he had a great sense of humor and if any food has humor, it's probably hot dogs.  I often feel his presence around when alone and have conversations with him, sometimes asking for advice from the after world.  I didn't get to know him well enough before he passed but I loved him dearly.  Something tells me he stays around to check on his large family because he hated leaving them with any burden and from what I learned about him, he had a great sense of responsibility.  He hated that his cancer slowed him down in getting things done.  In these cases, the spirit might get extra time to hang and protect, is how I figure it anyway. 

After he died, a mystery unfolded that needs solved.  I kept noticing time, clocks at specific numbers, like 2:22 or 3:33, 5:55, always looking at my phone at the precise moment the numbers would sync and then followed by a nudging feeling.  At first I thought it was my mother but later came to know it's him, somehow.  Lately, it's happening at 11:11 and for quite some time, like weeks.  He's trying to tell me something.  I think.  It's hard to speculate and I continue to search my mind for clues.  

Time itself, the concept has plagued me all my life.  I've not believed in it and often resented how big a role it plays in our day to day.  Recently I've come to look at the past and the future as mere thoughts, that only this moment is real, right now. Clocks and calendars have therefore become more of a nuisance.  These ideas have freed me of so much pain and misery.   Not to be stuck to a formed definition of yourself, who you are, what you're capable of is to become a child again but taller.  The truth is, we're all so many different things and to hold on to an idea about yourself is a form of prison.  

Dave was always so clever and seemed to see all my insecurities as if written right on my face, when we were very young and I had more than my share.  I didn't even let him see my eyes when walking past, as it would bring on stuttering.  I remember thinking way back then that I had outed him.  I understood he was more of a character in a fairy tale, an other worldly creature posing as a brother, but he knew so much more than the rest of us, somehow.  And he made me know him deeply, in an instant, back then and later as an adult, somehow.   

Chili dogs, potato chips, salad and watermelon - the 4th of July plate.

I think this was my other brother Ernie's wedding day.  (David on left, Ernie on right).  I remember the back of Ernie's thighs were sweating through his pants in church and he fainted or something.  My mom got mad because she said it was probably due to his drinking too much the night before.  My brothers together always seemed like they were up to no good, which I loved.  

So, I don't know what it could be, perhaps a warning or knowing him, more a riddle.

It will for now, remain a mystery. 

Suckin' On a Chili Dog

I found some Brioche hot dog buns and froze them for a day like today.  I made chili dogs and salad, served with watermelon and bbq potato chips.  What a delightful summer dinner!  Seems like forever since I made a plate like this and the light slightly sweet bun elevated the dog.   

I hate to give any prudence to my America is over fear, but I can't shake this internal feeling that portions of freedom  have ended in our country, for some of us.  That whole dream of retiring on a lake house with just enough funds to live a small life, eat well and be comfortable before they make glue out of us, seems further and further from my grasp.  I hope to get there.  I try not to consider the future much but the look of the present, leaves me with stark visions.  It doesn't help that I have the most vivid apocalyptic dreams.

I heard the 80's were off the chain in New York, but we're seeing the most brutal, horrific crimes happening in broad daylight on the daily.  The pace of chaos at every turn is intensifying as the country faces new issues, those of which I will not list because it's depressing and long ass. 

Bitch, what does this have to do with festive summer food, you say?!   I don't know, looking at the plate, it feels nostalgic, from a time different then the one we're living in.  This meal also brings to mind where we are right now in history and all these images of the 4th of July and America are slightly skewed.  Last year the holiday was gangs of kids vandalizing the streets of Brooklyn, throwing fireworks from cars, lighting trash cans ablaze.  It was banning of celebrations due to fire hazards because of the droughts in the west.  It was the virus keeping us from gathering, all over.

And again, some lethal combination of politics, media and the inability to socialize, caused a measurable shift in people, that's hard to define.  Some seem ready to throw down on the streets, operating on very short fuses.  I witnessed a quick exchange passing two men on the sidewalk, while on my bike yesterday where one pushed the other and berated him verbally because the older man bumped into the younger guy, by accident.  The old man remained passive and got out of there but it elevated so quickly and neither was drunk or crazy.  The elderly man could have fallen from the shove and been hurt and I pray I would have the guts to stop and help him if he did.

I'm also seeing more subtle examples, like I inadvertently wore a red white and blue colored outfit, of soccer pants and trucker hat in my neighborhood and it took a minute to realize why everyone looked like they wanted to spit on me.  God forbid I become the poster child for patriotism but I find it ugly troubling that this unintentional fashion faux pas prompted such looks of disgust and judgement just for wearing colors that represent our country.  We shouldn't allow ourselves to believe those colors represent negatives, like racism, close mindedness or bigotry.  At the very least they should not spark such repulsion from our educated youth.  You would have thought I was wearing a Creed T-shirt.