Specials

"If you want it to-go, I'll just put it in a box."

-- the Arabic man who runs the Al-Madina Market

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From recent receipts:

- Lunch Special at the Al-Madina: $6.00
- Garlic nan at the Al-Madina: $1.95
- Linguini primavera at Pompilio's: $10.25
- Jumbo boneless wings cup at Lee's: $3.89

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Having been numbed by Saramago's pale depictions of matter-of-fact catastrophe, Cather's Death Comes for the Archbishop is shocking, if it is possible to be shocked by colors and dialogue. She uses the word "ruddy" a lot, and I welcome it. Not nearly enough seems "ruddy" these days; pallid, dry, and restless, antelopes move in herds to avoid the packs. The blood is red, but the animal's back is ruddy.

Speaking of Cather, she lived in Nebraska. So did I. Before that, she lived in Virginia. So did I. And in chapter one of Archbishop, she mentions Cincinnati and Ohio more than any other location, besides, of course, New Mexico, where the story takes place. The Bishop looks back to his time in Cincinnati with longing, remembering wine, gardens and friendly Protestants. I've been drinking red wine--ruddy wine--and eating fresh garden greens and ruddy tomatoes almost every day now, living in a house filled with friendly Protestant women.

Coincidences and co-inkiddly-dinks: God as Writer.

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Got paid yesterday, and the tour has officially begun. Today we ventured north to Lebanon, OH, and performed our Native American mythic show in the sanctuary of a church--a Protestant church. If these were primeval days, we might have been hung.

Progress.