Text 8252, 59 rader
Skriven 2013-12-26 12:08:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: trip 647
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I woke to the welcome smell of frying Habbersett's. The
drill in the old days was that she'd fry a pound, and
Billy and she would each gobble half a pound; when I was
around, she'd cook 2 pounds and invite Robbie, and between
him and me we'd mostly do in the second one, saving a few
slices for a snack or two or to be stolen by a cat or two.
Turns out Robbie has become persona non grata, having
turned into some sort of Tantric person, operating on
every astral plane but this one: he apparently ruined
Thanksgiving by getting into a quarrel about who knows
what with about everyone at table, including Annie, Dan,
and Mike and Jill the host and hostess. I got this all
from Annie, so sought independent verification from the
various other witnesses; sadly, corroboration came. The
harshness of the assessment varied with the age of the
interviewee, but even the younger ones admitted that
Robbie had been out of line. Apparently Dan and Charlie's
out-of-town brother (Mike's cousin) Mike and his wife had
been over, and Robbie had told out-of-town Mike's wife,
a nurse practitioner, that the medical profession was
useless (I partially agree) and that he was going to will
his diabetes away and so throw out his insulin and stuff.
I was amused by various descriptions of how Cheryl rolled
her eyes at this.

Apparently mind over matter doesn't work all that well
for most people, and I'm told one can get dementia from
untreated diabetes. On hearing the first narrative from
an exasperated Annie (e-mail right after Thanksgiving) I
suggested brain damage, perhaps from when Robbie had
crashed his beemer in a one-car accident this summer. Now
it seems that maybe the craziness caused the accident? So
Annie has got a total loony brother same as mine, only I
didn't completely shut mine off, which she has done, going
so far as to get her house keys back from him and cancelling
a life insurance policy that had him as beneficiary.

Anyhow, the Habbersett's was fine, but nothing extraordinary.
It was her second to last pound of it, from before Billy
died, as it's not available here but is sold in Hershey,
which is marginally closer to Philadelphia I guess. Annie was
all hot to go on a field trip form more Habbersett's, but I
pointed out that it's made in the Rapa factory from
essentially a Rapa recipe, and Rapa is sold at Wegmans and
Giant here, so unless we wanted to go on a field trip for
something else, why bother. And the roads were going to be
slick and crowded.

We were sitting digesting, when the door chimes rang. Mike
from across the river periodically comes over early in the
day for toast. We pull out some beers from the fridge and toast
each other. This time Annie had a mixed case of lager, light,
black and tan, and Lord Chesterfield ale. Mike had a couple of
Chesterfields, I had a black and tan, Annie had her usual light.
We failed to solve the problems of the world, especially Robbie,
all afternoon; it was kind of fun.
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