Saturday, October 27, 2007

return to the cabin

I stayed in the little room and it rained again and the sound on the tin roof brought it all back, but it wasn't as painful as I might have expected. More wistful. The foosball table was out, too, and the Tesla album lay near the stereo.

Dave didn't mention a thing.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

as always, dealing graciously with a compliment

After dinner last night, walking with mom on Orchard, shopkeeper jumps out of his shop:

SHOPKEEPER: Ethan, I thought that was you! I just wanted to thank you so much for the review last week.

ETHAN: Oh, of course, my pleasure. See, mom, he liked the review. She hated it.

SHOPKEEPER: Oh yes, I showed it to my sister, my mom, they were so proud!

ETHAN: See that, mom, he has a supportive family.

MOM to SHOPKEEPER: When you were a child, did your mother let you win at Candyland?

SHOPKEEPER: Well, my mother wasn’t really into games. But if we’d played them, yes, she would have let us win.

ETHAN: See. That’s why he’s well-adjusted.

Now I can see the regret freezing on the shopkeeper’s face, regret that he’s come out onto the street to give a personal and thoughtful thank-you, only to be sucked in to some ancient family conversation that exists only to make others feel awkward and uncomfortable.