Butterball Tales

Rain on the horizon. Lots of wind leaking into the apt. Cold. Trying to make it into
December without lighting the furnace. But, I'm not holding myself to that pledge; flagellation not part of my religion. Yeah, 'that's me in the corner..' For the first time in 15 years, or is it 20, I am not making the annual sojourn up into the Sierra with my BFF, Jane and her family. The ecstatic birth of Jane's grandson, Luca, so close to thanksgiving precipitated an audible; everyone stays in the Bay Area. While walking in Mt. View the other day, I was tossing through my memories, and recalled that my T'day initiation as an adult was spent in San Francisco with the first girlfriend and the plastic wrapped butterball. We followed the printed directions. No fear. They had a hot line for rookies like us. I would have remembered burning the turkey. Or would I? I know that we had canned jellied cranberries. To this day, I still love the crimson ridged mass (some of us have our clandestine pleasures)... The 2nd significant T'day was spent with my sister at a small apartment we were sharing. We bought a butterball, was there anything else back then, and invited some friends over. I made a couple of pies. We named the turkey after a relative, and while the house filled up with delectable scents, spices, pan drippings, roasting bird, all the familiar chords, evoking past sentiments, we dropped Joni Mitchell's 'Blue'onto the turntable, fired up whatever was available and tucked in for the evening. Tomorrow, decades later, I'll be sitting down at a Thanksgiving table, for only the 2nd or 3rd time as an adult, with my sister; some things have changed. She's a vegetarian. Organic rules the roost. Ah, but, still some things remain the same. Love for the succulent dark. A private moment the following day with jellied cranberry mashed between 2 slices of bread and a mountain of left-overs. Stay warm. Good thoughts to you and yours.

'All the leaves are brown, and the sky is gray....'

1. Jeeeeezuz. Last night I got Tebowed; I took the J-e-t-s to go gang green all over Denver. In the last 5 minutes, of one of the sorriest played NFL games, Tebow's passes were pitiful, and Sanchez, the J-e-t-s QB, regressing dramatically, (what do you expect he went to USC) the Denver Tebows drove 95 yards to win the game. Again. How is that possible? The legend continues.

2. The nation wide 'Occupy' movement finally got those apathetic Cal students up off their collective duffs and into Sproul. The UCPD slyly shadowing the inept political response to the 'Occupy Oakland' activists unleashed batons on students in a disturbing Bull Connorish assault. WTF? The image of the University took a nose dive, and only enraged and galvanized principles. This is....Berkeley. They do revolutions.

3. Pumpkins. Lucky devils. I baked 3 sugar pie candidates to use in breads and uh, well, pies. The affable orange squash is one of the great seasonal pleasures; in my own private idaho: Half Moon Bay, the land o'pumpkins, never gets old or storied. The magical fields run down to the ocean in slick digital orange profusions.

4. On the 30th Anniversary of Natalie Wood's death, she was the straw that stirred James Dean's drink in 'Rebel without a Cause,' the LAPD have re-opened the circumstances surrounding her death. I always thought there was something shady about her accidental drowning.

5. The 114th Big Game. Cal vs Stanford down on the Farm. Let this be swift and painless. Go Bears.

Say it ain't so...

Joe. There isn't enough institutional media spin in the known galactic world to hose, stem, or cap the stench of the colossal scandal that has settled over head football coach Joe Paterno, the former AD, and the former Vice President of Penn St. News sources this morning are now reporting that Jerry Sandusky the former Defensive coordinator of the football team, at one time considered the heir apparent to Paterno's head coaching position, who has been charged by the state Grand Jury with deviate sexual intercourse, corruption of minors, endangering the welfare of a child, and indecent assault could face further accusations; the number of known victims, currently 8, could climb as high as 20. The 2002 alleged assault of a 10 year old boy by Sandusky (already retired but who had access to the Penn St facilities) in the shower at the team's complex and the failure of then AD Tim Curley and Vice President Gary Schultz to report the incident to authorities as required by state law, reeks of the same disturbing amoral behavior repeatedly practiced by the Catholic church when confronted by priest pedophile accusations. There is nothing complex about these institutional cover-ups. It is egregious perpetuation: institution and reputation above all else; a blind eye turned, historically, to heinous acts against women and children. The adults who knowingly participated in the Penn St cover-up...talk is cheap. Remorse, just another word. And forgiveness? Not a fracking chance.