Today is 9/11. Feel however you want about that.
I have several favorite glasses. One of them is the one I made on the pottery wheel in my ceramics class at KU, another one is the stein that I received from my cousin Sam for being in his wedding and another is the one shown. This amazingly awesome boot glass was given to me by my Memere (Grandma) when I was 5 or 6 years old.
On a family outing to a fancy restaurant called “The Brookville Hotel”, we (including Memere and Pepe) sat down at a large, round table… As I was pulling at the too tight tie strangling my neck, the waitress approached and asked for our drink orders. For some reason, my typical answer of Dr. Pepper was replaced by the unusual response of chocolate milk. My parents eyed me as if I had just called my sister a “bitch” and asked, “Are you sure that you want chocolate milk?” with a stern brow… After attempting to convince them that chocolate milk would be the perfect companion for the fried chicken, mashed potatoes and biscuits I would soon be consuming, my Memere said “If he wants to get chocolate milk, let him get chocolate milk” … And so it was. Chocolate milk had been ordered and approved by the most powerful woman to ever walk the plant, my Memere.
After listening to the grown-ups talk about work and a bunch of other boring stuff, the waitress arrived with an amazingly boot shaped glass of cold, refreshing chocolate milk. Upon seeing the glorious glass I remember the feeling of seeing something impossible, something extraordinary and something impossible. How could a glass this amazing exist? How could someone imagine something this incredible? and how could it have crossed my path? .. This was the kind of glass that a person for my stature should be drinking out of. After all, it was special, just like me… It was the same as the other “grown up” glasses at the table, but different… It felt amazing drinking out of it. I think that I must have had several glasses of liquid gold chocolate milk.
I remember the feeling of knowing that the meal was almost over and every drink might be the last taken from this, the greatest glass ever to touch the planet Earth… My Memere must have noticed the vast pleasure I was taking in it, for on conclusion of the meal, she made the announcement that the glass was mine to keep. She had bought it for me (and one for my brother and sister).
On the 20 minute drive home I remember holding the glass in my miniature ape hands and feeling like the most unique and special person on the planet… Thanks Memere.
Today, the glass is one of the most important artifacts from my early existence on this planet… and one HELL of a beer mug.
I am ready to make it official:
Zip-front Sweatshirts are my favorite piece of clothing.
I feel that I have so much to say lately. I have a list of BLOG entries waiting to happen a mile long and can not wait to share them with the imaginary people that I imagine read this stupid thing everyday. My brain is on overdrive, I pop out of bed at 8 or 8:30 everyday, my skin tone seems healthy enough, running and walking are two of my favorite things and I have not watched prime time television in months.