when words fail me, which is often, I paint. When words work for me and are available on time, I am surprised.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

A Thin Line

A few years back, Tate took me to see David Bromberg play in a small local theater. Besides being an enormously talented guitar player, singer and songwriter,David Bromberg is a pretty funny man. Funny if you appreciate a dry sense of humor, and I do. I don't remember how the story came up, but he said every time he asks his wife where something is, say his blue shirt with the hole in the elbow, she replies, "It's up your butt looking for a ham sandwich." Now that's a little gross and crass, I remember thinking when he told that story on stage. I think he named a song after the response, I don't remember. What I do know is this;every time Tate asks me where something is these days, even if I do not say it out loud, I respond, "its up your butt lookin for a ham sandwich." I can't believe the nerve of me, but its really funny for me.
Once he heard me, I said it out loud.
It's up your butt lookin for a ham sandwich, that's what David Bromberg's wife would tell you.
-She says that?
long conversation, he missed that part of the show, probably outside smoking a cigarette, but he understood and that's all that mattered at the time.

Now, we both agreed it was a rude and crass kind of thing to say. We were both puzzled by the gentle giant with his soulful acoustic yet cynical tone admitting to the fact that his wife said such things. We never agreed that it was funny. I have not fessed up to how many times I have thought the ham sandwich phrase in response to the famous "where's my. . . "question.
(As an aside, yes there usually is one, totally over hearing my kids ask me where their shit was, my old response was "Key word-MY!" this is way better)

Tate is the love of my life, you know that. He is also the only man who has ever cooked the majority, if not all of our meals and they are always delicious, I have ever lived with. This includes my Chef-brother. We lived together for years.

Last weekend he went grocery shopping at 7:30 am and prepped the majority of our Thanksgiving dinner. In triumph the next day he asked me, "Where do you think my twenty pound turkey is?"
God help me, I could NOT resist.


Laura said...

A 20 pound turkey?! Ouch! I cleaned out the fridge today, and I have no idea where I'm going to put a turkey. And I'm very much jealous that your soul mate cooks for you.

Michelle O'Neil said...

Too funny what goes on inside that head of yours.

thirdworstpoetinthegalaxy said...

I am SO going to use that line...