Upward mobility

A thought I want to get down on paper.

My father was born in 1929. He was the third of seven children, and the first male.

He worked hard his whole life to succeed. I remember when he bought his first Cadillac, and then the little Cadillac for my mom. Success!

In the town where Dad moved up, we moved to the upper burbs where doctors and lawyers and such lived. My mom is a gardener. On one occasion, Mom was out in the front yard when the wives of Doctors and Lawyers decided to convene on Mom’s front yard to discuss local stuff. Because I remember it, I’d have to say that was a defining moment in my political life. In my mom’s beautiful yard, they ignored my mom.

It was awkward, but they didn’t get it.

Commemorating Mom, who fed us Campbell’s Tomato Soup with Macaroni, and grilled cheese sandwiches so that Dad could buy Cadillacs.

Good Food.

Rabbit Hole #2

Mr. Big Food mentioned over the weekend that he had a paper he wanted me to edit. Needed words cut. Sent it to me today. Said it was 3500 and needed to to be 3000. For some unknown reason having to do with the fact that I am 60 years old and apparently can no longer read and comprehend, I labored to cut 100 words.

Re edit.

Meanwhile, I went down the Hodgkin & Huxley hole. I consulted crappy old Medical Physiology texts. I ruminated on states of affairs.

And I eventually cut 500 words.

It wasn’t easy.

But I learned a lot.

I shared my learnings with Mr. Big Food. He thinks we should write a paper. I think we need to clean the patio.