Where Am I Going, And Why Am I In This Handbasket?

Monday, October 17, 2005

Sunday Nights


Sunday night BBQ with The Village (as in “It takes a”).

The weather has finally gone lovely. It’s official. Our moods seem to travel a parallel path and we are enjoying new dispositions.

Everyone's kids had been ejected to places unseen. There was a smooth polleny breeze floating around us, and fans gusting. Carrie and her glass-blowing boyfriend were with us on Paul’s patio. Kelly, Chris and I filled out the deck. I’m especially content because Paul introduced me to a yummy new beer called Chimay Ale, brewed by Trappist monks in Belgium. Those holy men in their monasteries – apparently the most productive people on the planet – what else do they produce? Libraries, art, beer, books, wines, cheeses, bourbon fudge – all the components to a happy existence. (Or the perfect example of the accomplished life one can achieve when not Hampered By Sex. Whatever.). And now I’ve decided that I want to be a monk when I grow up. Is it too late?

I digress.

So we ate deliciously, as usual when Chris is at the helm. And we drank deliciously, as usual when Chris brings home several bottles of wine or Paul introduces a new beer (I love monks!). After the dreamy salad (Hawaiian opah, salmon, swordfish, scallop & steak - Life is good when you’re lovin’ a Foodie), three bottles of tasty pinot, a case of Newcastle, and a couple liters of the scrumptious ale (hey I really like monks), we threw the dishes in the kitchen with a flourish and ambled back outside, closing away the indoors again with a loud determined click of the patio door. We sat around the table on Paul’s darkened porch – crowded with dilapidated candles, dozens of half-empty bottles, ashtrays, smudgy glasses, and the laptop we were choosing post-dinner songs from (Thievery Corporation was on). The desert we then smoked fully complimented our digestion and our dirty toes flickered as we leaned back and propped our feet on each other’s chairs. We talked aimlessly, over each other.

Someone brought up Haunted Houses. Kelly mentioned the building on 19th Ave & Northern, which now exists as an Albertson’s shopping center. What did it used to be? None of us could agree about what the building had been in its first life, but The Villagers all recalled that when they were teens they’d all done some great drugs in there, sneaking into its abandoned spookiness latenights. So, great drugs. Swell. I was probably getting my braces on that day.

I declared that my recollection of the building had to be correct because an old nun told me in high school. Paul claimed to have a similarly reliable source. I called Bullshit. No one beats a cranky old nun. We all argued as to its original purpose until we spiraled and the story could not continue. Paul threw his hands out and sliced the air, telling us to shut up. We needed a consensus.

He pointed at me. What did I think the building used to be?

Me: A catholic home for pregnant teens
He pointed at Chris: A convent
Kelly: A catholic boarding school
Paul: A catholic insane asylum

Kelly points out that we all actually agreed on one thing. What was it?

CATHOLICS!!!! we all shouted merrily in chorus.

Our warped memories agreed that it had at least been a catholic enterprise, whatever the hell it was. Laughter and high-fives traveled around the table and we were pleased enough to stop quarrelling. Then the hoots died down and we relaxed back into our chairs and passed the next Round o Poof.

What about that Fake Castle on 19th Ave and Peoria, Paul wondered? What the hell was that? The gigantic four-walled brick structure, a strange presence next to the mountain, surrounded by a modern plastic-looking lavender auditorium-style non-denominational church, an empty dusty lot, low-end homes built in the 1970s, and concrete buildings that look more like prison dorms than the retirement apartments they currently were. How many incarnations has the Phony Citadel had? It was a church when I was little. And a furniture store. I remember walking around it back then. Chris said it used to be a bar. Now it’s a fitness club. Is there nothing we can't recreate, no matter how tacky?

Who cares. 'Rome' was on in 2 minutes.

Posted by Marci Twitches :: 9:48 AM :: 0 Comments:

Post / Read Comments

-------------------------------------