The Thumb Triumphant

Back when I worked in a hospital, I would walk into the nurses' lounge at 3am and find my co-workers text messaging.

How those thumbs flew! How intent and purposeful they were! They could have been texting to the pair of thumbs sitting beside them. Who knew? The owners were not talking to each other, and the only sound in the room was the TV showing dream real estate on House and Garden TV.

And last summer, when I was out visiting, I witnessed another Thumb Fest between a pretty 17 year old, two suitors, and the girl's mother.

One suitor had invited this young woman to a birthday party (hers), and the other one had invited her to a dinner with his mother.

These engagements were on the same night, and mother and daughter were twiddling mightily to prevent a showdown, a scene, and recriminations. What happened I cannot report, for I do not speak Thumb, and no human voice ever told me who triumphed.

In a different time this scenario might have been drama or comedy. Oscar Wilde would have chosen the latter, and his audience would have enjoyed at least two amusing scenes. A Russian novelist would have written a chapter or two, and Jane Austen would have wrapped everything up in a tidy two pages. Raymond Carver would have given it a paragraph, though one sentence would be more likely-

I was thinking about the Thumb's ascendance to human dialogue the other day, and before I knew it I had committed an act of doggerel. Here it is.



The Triumph of The Thumb, by Miss Betsy.


Back when we were apes and lemurs

Killing prey with flying femurs

Thumb and forefinger took a vow.




Through eons,ages,centuries

Never did they work apart.

They aimed the arrow,steered the plow-

They perpetrated Modern Art.



But thumb grew tired

of feeling hired.

Why not strike out on his own?

For he was weary of being cut

By Global knives and cat food cans

Consigned to boredom with the also rans

While other digits took the glory.


And then he saw her-glimmering.

A sly, ambitious little screen

Dressed scantily in silicon.



He touched.

She purred.

"Words are best when they're not heard",

She whispered. Silently.

"You can mummify the tongue!

Make the larynx obsolete.

Show that all that need be said

Is better by a finger led

Than by some vocal, whining bleat

That only ends in Drama.



Once opposed, but now Imposing!

The Future is yours,

Almighty Thumb!"

Amazonia

Forget the NSA.

If you think someone is watching you-
If you hear footprints behind, you are not paranoid. You have just ordered or are thinking of ordering, or have just clicked on an ad from Amazon.com.

Amazon goes where you go, even into the archives of the New York Review of Books. I went there this morning to read an article about Robert Lowell, and every time I scrolled down up came an ad advertising a blue Le Crueset Dutch oven offered at a half price of $149.99.

I clicked on this ad a few days ago,curious about that deep discount. I was not, and am not in the market for another Dutch oven. I have two-one a doppleganger for the pan in the ad. But mine is a Martha Stewart that Miss Betty from work gave me for free because she was too frail to lift it out of her oven.

I would not be worried about this if Jeff Bezos wasn't considering sending out Amazon orders before customers actually ordered. Then, one innocent click of inquiry about a set of copper pans could end up robbing you of your rent money-

And Bezos is also thinking of sending your Amazon orders out via drone. Who will be liable when the drone drops the cookware on the windshield of a minivan full of toddlers? Or on your neighbor's new Escalade-

And apropos of this, I read somewhere on the Internet, and this morning, that drones are delivering six packs to thirsty ice fishermen up in the North country.

Think of it! Beer delivered to your deer blind up in the trees. That might spook the deer,but they were only an excuse anyway to get away with your buddies.

From the Tee-Tiny Experimental Kitchen- Cherry and Mincemeat Sauce for Duck, Chicken, Turkey or Ham

I bought half a roasted duck breast in the frozen food section at Publix, and tonight I am re-roasting it. I like fruit sauces with duck, and I made this one tonight. It is simple to make, requiring only 1/3 stick of butter, one cup of pitted Morello cherries, and a tablespoon of mincemeat.

Melt the butter, toss in the cherries and the mincemeat and heat through on low heat. Mash the cherries a bit for extra juice.

The amounts I used would sauce two portions. Double or triple if you are feeding more.

The Tee-Tiny Experimental Kitchen- Mincemeat with Cheddar in Puff Pastry

Apples love Cheddar cheese, and mincemeat does too. I made up this recipe this morning as an alternative to mincemeat pie, and it is easy and tasty and would feed four or five.


The pictures tell the story. Thaw out a sheet of frozen puff pastry. Roll over it a few times with a rolling pin then place it in a greased or sprayed 6 inch souffle dish. Dump in 13 oz., or 1/2 jar mincemeat. Then put 2/3 cup grated cheddar on top of the filling. Fold the pastry as shown, give it a wash of melted butter, then put it in a 400 degree oven for 30 minutes or so or until the crust is browned as shown in the photo.

Good for a holiday brunch or breakfast.

Gerald Finzi

I have listened to classical music all my life, and thought I knew most composers. I was disabused of this idea this past Thursday.

I went to Kroger to get enough cat food to get us through the ice storm, and when I left the parking lot I was held up by a school bus and a frightening line of traffic. I sat, waiting for an opening to pull out. I had our local NPR station on, and gradually as I listened I realized I was listening to one of the most beautiful and mournful piano pieces I had ever heard. I had no idea what it was, or who had composed it.

My apartment is only 3 minutes from the grocery, and when I parked the piece was still playing. No force on earth could have made me leave the car then until I found out what I was listening to, and I waited to the end. The announcer said it was the "Eclogue for piano and strings". I thought he said the composer was" Finney", but I soon found I had heard wrong.

What would we do without You Tube? I keyed in "eclogue" and up came "Eclogue for Piano and Strings Opus 10", by Gerald Finzi, a British composer. And there the music was again.

The person who put up the video of the eclogue first heard it as he was driving. But he was driving in rush hour on the Massachusetts Turnpike, which I am sure is a hell all its own. He says he was so affected by the beauty of the piece that he had to pull off onto an off ramp.

Finzi died young, and perhaps this accounts for the elegiac mood of this music-

Look this up on You Tube. You will not be disappointed-

How Are You Going To Keep Them Down On The Farm-

I was reading an email from my brother tonight when my eyes drifted to an ad on the right side of the AOL page. An ad from William-Sonoma's "Agrarian" division.

The ad showed an elaborate green designer chicken coop with wheels.It costs almost $1500. The ad boasted that the coop was predator proof,which I guess in upscale urban neighborhoods means that your maid can't get into it. The wheels presumably allow you to wheel it around on the roof of your condo down in the Gulch.

Now anybody's uncle can put up a chicken coop after spending a few bucks at the farm supply store, but that is just not the Brentwood way of doing things. Williams-Sonoma reassures the purchaser that the coop arrives with "white glove handling", and that the people who deliver it will set it up.

Now the local, sustainable crowd who call carrots "veggies" and too many damn squash a "bounty", are not going to be satisfied with just a coop.

They will want accessories. Louis Vuitton egg collecting satchels.. Chanel work boots.Ruffoni copper chicken feed pails. They will need their own magazine as well- perhaps something along the lines of "Town and Chick Country"

And who thinks they would be satisfied with chickens from Dixon or Joelton either. They are going to want heirloom chickens from France. Sustainable, bountiful chickens fed on a diet of heirloom veggie scraps. Chickens who cluck with European flair.Bilingual chickens. Unfortunately these chickens will need to be educated as well. Someone will need to teach them that that fat ring tailed creature with the mask is not the family cat, and does not have the chickens' best interests at heart.

I knew this was coming. I knew it when I saw an article in "Where Women Cook" that showed a lovely young woman dressed in white organza and black work boots standing in her own special chicken house. If you want to wear white in a chicken house that is your choice, but remember that up in Fairview people are laughing at you.

Well, not really at you.

At the crystal chandelier you installed to keep the chickens from straining their eyes.

First Class Passenger Berths on the SS Moby Couch