I noticed that I say the phrase “I remember it like it was yesterday” a lot. I recently used it in a post about an event that happened 31 years ago, my son Donovan’s birth. I used it again today while telling a story to a friend about Army Airborne Jump School. I’ll probably use it tomorrow and the day after that - it seems to roll out of my mouth with the greatest of ease. This most likely is a product of getting older.
It is a proven fact that the older I get the more yesterdays I have under my belt to compare the quality of rememberance to while recounting major events in my life. Major events that I also have more of than when I was younger. I have had so many yesterdays - so many uneventful days of only living, so many that I don’t really remember anything about most lot them.
However, the smallest details about major and important events in my life bubble up from my memory effortlessly. Details that are carved in the living stone of my mind minute details that I can relate to anyone with no effort. Details like the color of my son’s skin and the expression on his face when he first saw me, how he must have felt - how I felt, or what went on in my mind when I ran through what first appeared to be a giant carwash to cool us down during a 10 mile run in the noonday sun while at Ft. Benning GA in August- the hottest summer of my life. Those two events and countless others I remember with extreme clarity and in great detail. But not like they happened yesterday, for yesterday is a day I remember very little about.
I could reconstruct my yesterday for you, if so desired. I know I probably had a poor to fair nights sleep where I woke up often, sometimes going back to sleep mostimes not. I Could safely venture that pain was from the many pulpits mr. p (parkinson’s disease) has chosen this month to deliver his sermon from. This sermon of pain with added hymns of disability and depression then followed me around all day breathing hellfire and brimstone down my neck. Except for the all to brief moments when the medicine can work it’s magic - force mr p. down from his position of omnipotence, his bully pulpit. Yes, he does take a break every now and then - thank God. Yes , thank God he does take a break. These details that I remember about yesterday are not because they bubble up effortlessly but because I could just as easily have been describing today or tomorrow, last week, last year or heaven forbid, 10 years from now.
However, I refuse to be sad I will still go to my church of metaphorical reality even if that windbag reverend p is preaching. I know he is only interim pastor although he thinks he is permanent. I am the head of my church’s search committee and as soon as we find his replacement - he’s out of here. This story is not about the sad it’s about the love, the newfound love I have for my newfound food mistress. She was sitting in the last pew, her spot with the college kids, this whole time.
She is a detail that I now must add to my reconstruction of yesterdays future. She has become an honored member of my mind church. I could have easily have written - “ emember it like it was yesterday? Hell, I can’t even remember what I had for lunch yesterday”. That would have been a funny, albeit brief joke but it would have been a lie. I might not know where I left the keys to the car I don’t own or what the boss at the job I don’t have told me not to forget - but I DO remember what I had for lunch, because it is, by choice, the same thing I’ve had for lunch every day for the last month- it’s my now favorite food of this moment and of this time. Move over OatBran there’s a new love in my life, this college DormRoom classic is now my new food mistress. I can’t help it - I’m in love. I’m in love with the exotic oriental woman of my dreams. I am in love with Ramen noodles.
But, in a selfishly Pygmalion fashion, I had her do away with the MSG laden Chicken “Favor” spice packet, replacing it with the much healthier option of natural organic peanut butter and Bragg’s Amino Acid supplement, plus a little local honey from a neighbor down the block who keeps bees and sells delicious wildflower honey from her Riverside front porch using the honor system.
I am infatuated with my new nourishmental distraction’s flavor both savory and sweet - the ease of her simple and quick preparation - the soothing warmth given to my throat - all where qualities my former food lover Quaker Oat’s Oat Bran HOT cereal had, but I grew tired of her and her constant need for brown sugar and like I explained to her when we broke up - It’s not you ...It’s me.
All of this is making me hungry, and my current cuisine concubine is nowhere to be found. I think I’ll make a little trip to the cupboard and see what trouble I can get into.
Be Right Back...
While visiting my new love’s dorm at her college that is my cupboard I ran into her roommate -Thai Kitchen Thin Rice Noodles. We hit it off right away and seeming so much more sophisticated and divine she made me forget all about my churchgoing food love, anda throwing caution to the wind I fix a bowl of my latest discovery. It was love at first taste. It was a gluten free where have you been all my life.
As I lay in my bed ready to swim against the current up the river to sleep I think on the day’s (now yesteday’s) turn of events and it dawned on me. Maybe it wasn’t the noodles at all, ramen or thai kitchen, that were the true objects of my desire. Maybe it was the company of p-nut butter mixed with it’s friends that I craved. Were the noodles merely a delivery system? I went to sleep a little confused but also quite curious, curious about details that will now be carved in my minds rock that will now bubble up with the greatest of ease - details I will remember like they happened yesterday, this yesterday... If it wasn’t the noodles then what was it... and what does that make me other than a person who just loves peanut butter along with Bragg/s Amino Acid Supplement and a little Local Riverside Honey thrown in.
NEXT...I promise the honest truth about my trip to China and how the time I spent and continue to spend with the awe-inspiring BoThai Panda is changing my life.
KNOCKOUT PANDA PUNCH
When I was a youngster, a peculiar word given the fact that I’ve never heard anyone use (it is in the dictionary, however) the word “oldster”, I would see in an advertisement, a restaurant or at the home of one of the adults my parents knew who imbibed, a mixed drink...a cocktail, an exotic, what appeared to be refreshing, adult beverage that I was fascinated by. Fascinated by the swirling tropicalesque colors not found in nature, colors that offered promises of romantic adventures, playful Polynesian girls in grass skirts, and eternal-internal refreshment. It would take years before it would sink in that these colors were lying while laughing about the first two: the adventures, and the girls. However, I was made quite aware, quite young, about the last. I learned early the important lesson...all that glitters is not gold.
After much cajoling I finally convinced one of the adults in my small circle of awareness to let me have a wee taste of their libation and experience what Madison Ave. called a “Taste Sensation” They gave in...I took a tiny sip... I believe it was a Daiquiri...
It tasted like finding out there is no Santa Clause - Easter Bunny or Tooth Fairy all at the same time from my best friends worldly older sister. It was the most disgusting, sickening sweet flavor I had ever forced down my to my junior palette. What a waste of good sugar I thought. I knew Whiskey and beer tasted bad to me - My father would always give me a sip at Christmastime - just to see me grimace. He believed alcohol was supposed to taste ill - to keep kids from drinking. But, I would have rather had a shot of my Father’s Christmas whiskey. Than expose my tastebuds to yet again to another Madison Avenue lie. Thus ended my captivation with cocktails
To this day I do not enjoy mixed drinks... I still think they are a waste of good sugar... and as some misguided people do they try to fool you with their good looks, charm, and empty promises - I was leading a cocktail free life until I discovered the Gr00vyLånd Summertime, NON-ALCOHOLIC, truly refreshing drink of choice - based on a recipe I learned while living in China studying the art, music, poetry and prose of the BoTai Panda. It is the same recipe taught to me by my BoTai hosts HuMi and her mate Yehyu. Regrettably, only one ingredient has been omitted - essence of the rare BlueBamboo, an enjoyed by all ages, mildly psychotropic, staple of the BoTai made from distilling the leaves and flower of the BlueBamboo plant.
BlueBamboo, which can be found growing in remote regions all over the world is a powerfully versatile plant producing many useful and life enhancing products...from permanent textiles to a non-polluting fuel - from a miracle medicine that cures parkinsons, - to a recreational drug that is safer than alcohol. Unbelievably, for insane political reasons, mere possession of BlueBamboo, essence of BlueBamboo, or any it’s products, is illegal in all but four states in this country. In some areas getting caught with “The Big Blue” carries the same penalties as kidnapping. Sad. Therefore, since Gr00vyLånd is not located in one of the four states whose government doesn’t believe in the practice of turning its honest citizens into criminals, we must leave out this, grows in the ground like a tomato, miracle gift from the PureGiraffe. This omission has no effect on the delicious flavor of the drink that tastes like it looks: cool, clean, and refreshing - the drink that doesn’t misrepresent itself - finally an honest cocktail that anyone can easily make.
Stay cool this summer and enjoy the drink that is good and good for you - enjoy what we here at Gr00vyLånd simply call PANDA PUNCH. The actual ancient spaghetti script word the BoTai use is too difficult and too spatial to pronounce. The literal translation is... Then, we drank this - Now, we drink this - Soon we shall drink again, this.
Here’s the now non-secret recipe as given to me by HuMi and Yehyu (sans blue bamboo) .
or as it is written in the ancient spaghetti script of the BoTai œ∑†åßƒ...∂ƒ√ç√≈Ω
Wash your hands and feet / face west / burp / and never make while sad.
Fill a large tall glass with ice made from spring or filtered water
Squeeze the juice of one eighth of a lemon (or lime)
Pour one part fizzy water over ice from a distance of 4cm from rim of glass
add 2 parts organic apple juice from half the above distance
stir vigorously - VERY IMPORTANT - STIR ONLY - DONOTSHAKEDONOT SHAKEDONOTSHAKE
Go outside - lay in your moon-hammock sip slowly and enjoy
REPEAT AS NEEDED
P.S. I have kept my trip to China where I lived with the painfully creative, obscenely prolific, and sweet smelling Botai (a subspecies of non-bear that can only be found in China living near factories that make low-end toy synthesizers) I have kept this trip, payed for by viewers like you, a secret - until today. Well friends, the jig is up - the cat’s out of the bag - the fat lady has sung or as the BoTai so eloquently put it - I jumped out of my moon-hammock, baby.
My next post will be a full report on my trip to China where I embraced BoTai Pandamonium, immersed myself in their culture and learned all I could about their language - religion - history and day to day living. But, most important, I started down the path that leads to PureGiraffe. I am learning how to be BoTai Panda, the most creative, prolific, honest, and sweet smelling authors of creation in the known Andyverse.
just say yes!
meet Andy Ward King, a professional musician and artist until a diagnosis of parkinons dsease at age 49 forced him into an early retirement., he now uses his music, his art along with the whimsical world he has created in this blog as therapy to ( as he puts it ) outsmart his brain and make the daily battles with parkinson’s a little bit easier, to give him that all important reason to get up on the morning, to make his life worth living. Andy has learned how to say NO to gving up \ NO to depression and apathy \ NO to following willingly the road of decline that stretches before him. he learned that to say no to all of these things all one has to do is say yes. Andy has learned to just say YES to life/\\