Gobble Gobble

It's gonna be real this year.  Old school.  Like major old school--heritage turkey style.  The bird comes tomorrow, from a farm in Kansas dedicated to bringing back native turkey species.  He's being FedEx'd overnight, first class. He's spending tonight in Indianapolis.  I know because I tracked him.  I wonder if there's a Ritz in Indianapolis?  This is one special turkey.  I can't wait to taste him.

Cinderella and the pumpkin

Cinderella is not going to the ball.  But she's daydreaming about one. Fall, 2002, Manhattan.  My shared apartment on East 20th Street was in a corner building, sheltered from taxi packed 1st Avenue by a basketball court and a playground.  It was close enough to work, that on the rare occasions exhaustion could pass for illness, I would walk home and observe the schoolchildren at play, untamed beneath my bedroom window.  I was far from the wilds of nature, but the shrill sounds of laughing children felt organic enough, and I looked forward to them.