That’s what I would call a column about being needy, leftovers and when too much is not quite enough. And about nephew Dennis and his mom.
When you age as I am doing, you become a study in contrasts. On the one hand, I am getting more and more independent in the way I think and the way I write.
I have decided that I really don’t have to be concerned about what others may think about me. So I say and do as I please. I see “political correctness” as a system of lies. And those who are “politically correct” as well-meaning liars.
The flip side of that, as I age I need the love and companionship of the ones I love and respect more than ever. They have become my safe harbor, my security. In that way, I am becoming increasingly more dependent. And I care what they think.
I would be interested if anyone else out there experiences the same feelings. I am so fortunate. I have a big group of friends and family whom I love and respect and who return those feelings openly. They make my life livable.
In a recent conversation with nephew Dennis, we discussed CDs made by good friend Bobby Stow from a tape of the choir at Axe Memorial United Methodist Church in Garland, Texas, in 1959. My late sister Margaret was a soloist. It has been a real joy to hear her voice again. The choir was made up of only six talented members. Quite remarkable. Dennis wanted only three copies, one for himself and one each for his niece and nephew.
During the course of the conversation, Dennis remarked about a fellow fraternity brother from Texas Tech who lived life as if “too much was not quite enough” in anything and everything. When going to a steak house for dinner, he would have two-pound sirloins cut for everyone and would not take the leftovers. Dennis contrasted that to meals at home when he was growing up. My sister would fix a pot roast on Sunday, allowing only one helping of roast with the certainty that, on the following Wednesday, the family would enjoy stew made from the leftovers. Meal planning.
I had to laugh because our house is also a leftover house by design. First of all, my (late) wife and I were relatively light eaters. Dear friend Cathy Ritch and her sister Nancy prepared Thanksgiving dinner for us. It was really good. Good for five meals. Par for the course for us. Almost anything I cook, I prepare for a number of meals. Spaghetti sauce, for example, I will cook enough for a half dozen sittings. Chicken breast maybe three meals, even hotcakes. Hotcakes, the way I make them freeze well. I like them thin and not bready. If a recipe calls for a cup of milk I use two cups. And I butter them before I take them off the griddle. There’s usually three meals of thin tasty pancakes. Sometimes they do well as a bread substitute.
All of a sudden I’m hungry. I wonder why?