Another Turkish Breakfast or Local Larry David?
I’ve schedule some time to post on the Local Beet today. I cannot quite decide what to post. I have more Turkish breakfast and I have a Larry David-esque story. I want to go with the latter, not the least as an exercise in unleashing frustrations, but I’m afraid I don’t have a full episode worth of post in me. Rather, what I have is those pieces the Second City crew would put on the flip chart before entering into the improv. So, if I do go with my Local Larry David, maybe someone can finish up the conceit.
There’s always Turkish breakfast
Let me add this, if we find my ability to write sketch comedy lacking, what about my daughter’s photo skill’s. Who include’s a spatula in a composition of padron peppers. Still, this spot is for the Local FAMILY and she gets to contribute too.
What do you think of the fork in the salad? By the way, have I mentioned the problem with the padron peppers. The idea of padron, as I understand, is that it is pepper roulette. You enjoy a fruity, tasty pepper most of the time, and then every once in a while. Zap! Capsacium lightening strikes. The bit of frisson, as well as the allusion to being in Spain, drives padron sales at the farmer’s markets, right? Except what if all the peppers hurt?
I think Farmer Vicki understands padron peppers the way I understand plot. See, here’s what I got. The other day, my wife and I needed to take one of our daughters to the airport for her first ever, by her self, airplane trip. A bit nervous, she wanted a good seeing off, which is why we were both around for a 6 PM flight. This flight time, though, brought meal issues. Lunch, dinner, lupper, how would we manage? My wife wanted to stop at Gibson’s on the road to the airport for a fancy burger. A good idea, but I feared too much time. We ended up instead at Mr. D’s. There, began my little Larry David episode.
At one point in lunch, my wife said something to me sotto voce. Now, I’m not sure it was the car stereo I had during high school or just heredity, but I don’t have the greatest set of ears, and I don’t do sotto voce very well. You would think I’d adjusted a bit towards lipreading as has my Dad, but when my wife tried to mouth the words, I was just as baffled.
“I’ll tell you later,” my wife said, and I went back to my fries and burger.
The time differential from picking Mr. D’s over Gibson’s left us at the airport quite early. It only got worse when my daughter’s flight got delayed. She insisted we stay until she fully entered the jetway. After 3 magazine’s worth of time, we finally walked away. For a change, I remembered, “later.” I never remember later, and I never get to know what I would have been told if I could hear better.
“What did you want to tell me?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said you’d tell me later.”
“What were we talking about?”
“I don’t know” (I was at Mr. D’s, what do I pay attention to besides fries and sandwich.)
“You have to tell me what we were talking about.”
“No, it’s your responsibility to know. You were the one who said later. Now’s later. What.”
“I don’t know.”
Which is when I realized I was in Larry David territory, as I went into a bit of a “thing” about who’s responsibility it was to complete a tell-you-later. So, how do we complete the show. Any suggestions?