2008-12-07 - 2:14 p.m.
My friends are gluttons and maybe I am, too. Two of them spent most of Friday night and some of Saturday morning deboning four birds and stuffing them inside of each other, all of which made for a giant feast yesterday. We set up my camera on a tripod and, with a remote, took a photo every two minutes or so with the intent of cramming them all together into a little movie. When we left last night, we were up to 1500 shots. A blur of cooking and chopping and laughing and drinking and card-playing and anything else twelve adults can think up to do.
In between, some of us went outside to throw around a football. It snowed yesterday. I love snow and always have. It didn't stick much--maybe a half-inch, but the drinks emboldened all of us and three throws in, I went to the curb, hard, for a toss. I planted on a storm-drain grate. The grate was wet and my shoes are new. The shoe had no chance and I almost did a split, foot and ankle and leg sliding almost all the way into the storm drain. For thirty seconds, I thought I'd have to go to the hospital. End result: no hospital, but a nasty scrape along my shin and a slightly throbbing lower leg today. Doesn't hurt much, though, and I've got a story. Scars, bruises, cuts, aches are all stories, really. Memories made real. Laughs made concrete.
Watching football. The Lions may go zero and sixteen. Poor Lions. They have a ferocious mascot: the king of the jungle, in Detroit, no less. Motor City, Motown, the home of American V-8 power, of Eminem, of Jack White, of cold hard winters and yesterday's bombastic profits. Five hundred thousand jobs lost last month but the games go on. And, maybe, rightly so.
Cold here on the East Coast. Windy, blue sky without clouds. Brown and dry leaves going left to right, even defying gravity, going up and over roofs, playing with overhead power lines, dancing with the sparrows. Flat, gray light, hoodies everywhere, wool hats, old ladies coming out of hallelujah churches, taking a look around and wrapping themselves up tight, their Sundays warm and cold at the same time.0 comments so far