Let It Grow Organic Gardens

And I resumed the struggle. -Vladimir

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

I've Been Putting This Off ...

Walter Cronkite's maid fixed me Thanksgiving dinner.
And it was damned good. All the usuals, of course: turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, pumpkin pie.
The details of the whole thing are now hazy. I should have written everything down right away, but I stop short of name dropping.
It had something to do with the Today show, Walter's new yacht, Joseph Stalin's ass, and some kind of cure for polio. In that order.
I was stuck on my Christmas tree lot on Thanksgiving, and Big Papa dropped by to say hi on his way to Walter's house. Big Papa goes way back with Walter, apparently. Perhaps not as far back as the rooftops of London during the blitz, but, pretty far back. (Or, was that Edward R. Murrow?) And Big Papa stopped back by the lot about midnight with left-overs.
(I can't say enough about Big Papa. And it's not just because he brought me some left-over turkey that Walter Cronkite's maid cooked. But because I genuinely believe him to be a quality individual.)
So, I microwaved Walter Cronkite's leftovers.
I didn't know what to do with the plate. (You're right. I wanted to keep it. Put it on the shelf at home. Bring it our for special guests. "That's Walter Cronkite's maid's plate.") This weighed on my mind. A week later, Walter's daughter came and got a Christmas tree from me. I gave her the plate.

There. I said it.
I succumbed to my temptation to name drop.
And, here, for the record, is my complete list of close encounters with celebrities:
When I was 5, I opened a department store door on Vince Lombardi's face.
When I was 12, I shook hands with Sammy Davis, Jr.
When I was 15, Sid Viscious threw up on me.
(Actually, he threw up on this girl named Cassie who I was with. But I think the story sounds better if he threw up on me, don't you?)
When I was 16, I passed a basketball to my friend Mark Katz. He lunged for it, missed, and slammed into Carly Simon, who was walking past on the sidewalk.
When I was 19, I slept under a bridge with Steamtrain Maury, who was once elected "King of the Hobos."
When I was 23, I was given an amulet by Ajahn Yantra Amaro, who was reputed to be an enlightened being.
My life then went through a dry spell, as far as contact with the paparazzi is concerned.
Then, Walter Cronkite's maid fixed me Thanksgiving dinner.


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