Marking Your Spot

 

Marking Your Spot

He hands me his latest find, a bookmark, photo of a cat,

calicoed and turned towards the camera as if posed.

The tree-edged yard framed by the window

that back-lights the translucent vein-webbed ears.

 

It is a fancy cat, with a beribboned neck.

Loved enough to be photographed.

Like Fancy the cat, who lived in the house Eric and I bought on 10^th Street,

and who rests in our backyard.

 

I had been told by the previous owner at the closing on the house

where the unmarked grave was located.

Among a thicket of sweet shrub.  Or was it forsythia?

Don’t dig too deep.

 

That next summer, warning forgotten,

I found where Miss Mildred and her daughter had placed Fancy.

A dark stain in the soil of the forsythias I was splitting out

stopped me from laboring further.

 

Now, tucked between the edge of the patio

and the row of Japanese privit

that years ago replaced the forsythia,

a remnant of marble, half hidden in the underbrush, to remember.

 

For Jim McGuire

Chattanooga for the Win

After over a year and a half of pandemic life without travel, Eric and I went, with a Ziploc bag full of cleaning products for the hotel room, on an overnight excursion to Chattanooga. The ‘Noog holds a special place in our hearts, as it is the first place that we traveled together as friends back in 2008. Since then, we’ve made many getaways to Chattanooga...for beer festivals, for Chattanooga Choo Choo Christmas lights, for concerts (Jason Isbell and Band of Horses), for minor-league baseball, and for major league food (Urban Stack, St. John’s, Public House, Tupelo Honey). This occasion was for Eric‘s birthday.

We had a late start, what with me dropping Booker off at sleep-away camp (his vet), and Eric waiting in line for the first-Saturday-after-the-third-Monday ABC Store bourbon allocations (I’m not making that up). Then, there was traffic. So much traffic.  We were staying downtown at the Courtyard by Marriott, overlooking the river, and close to everything:  food, baseball, attractions. As I was checking into the hotel and Eric was parking the car, I discovered that the Chattanooga Waterfront Triathlon (a triathlon Eric has in the past competed in) was scheduled the following day.  It just so happened that the START / FINISH line was located one block away. Our hotel was full of athletes and bicycles.  It took me almost a half hour to get our luggage and Riverside Wine and Spirits’ purchases up to our seventh floor room because there was only one working elevator. Eric had to circle away and around to find a public parking lot that wasn’t already filled to capacity...eventually we accidentally ran into each other in the lobby.

Agreeing upon a shamefully early and incredibly safe dinner, we ducked into the Mellow Mushroom for one of our greatest hits from the past, a Greek salad and gluten-free Philosophers Pie (which is no longer on the menu, but they happily offered to make for us). Post dinner was spent walking across the Walnut Street Pedestrian Bridge, venturing down on the north side of the shore, and then trekking back across the bridge to our hotel room for a quick rest before the ball game.

Philosopher's Pie, Mellow Mushroom

AT&T Field, which is home of the Chattanooga Lookouts, was one block away from the Marriott. The visiting team was Alabama’s own Huntsville Trash Pandas.  Our carefully researched seats behind home plate (good view and netting to protect against wayward baseballs) gave us one of the best vantage points that we’ve ever had at that field. With a blue sky rapidly filling with storm clouds,  both teams took turns scoring until, during an impressive stadium wave started by persistent Trash Panda fans, the Lookouts hit a home run, resulting in three runs being scored. The Trash Pandas attempted to make a comeback, but their momentum seemed to have vanished. Rain scattered fans into the tunnels below the bleachers, sending some running, never to return.  But the game continued until the top of the ninth, which is where it ended with the Lookouts victorious. We triumphantly poured with the crowd out of AT&T Field and made our way along the streets back to our hotel room, where we were able to catch (without wait) the one operating elevator.

The next morning, as some brave-hearted individuals triathed their way throughout the downtown area, we researched popular gluten-free breakfast options.  We landed on the well-reviewed Bantam + Biddy, known for their gluten-free chicken and waffles. As we approached the restaurant, a gentleman with a mohawk and a bouncer / manager-vibe opened the door for us.  At the counter, I launched into, “I have a severe gluten allergy, and I read on the Internet that you guys have the best gluten-free chicken and waffles. I don’t see that listed on the menu as being gluten-free, but I was curious to know if that’s something I could…”  I trailed off hopefully.  The server’s immediate response was, “That’s what we do here!'' Which was seconded by the mohawked-bouncer-manager-doorman’s confident, “You came to the right place.”

Gluten-free Chicken & Waffles, 
Bantam + Biddy

So, gluten-free chicken and waffles for each of us!  With a bourbon pecan maple syrup chaser!  The chicken was perfectly fried...lightly crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside.  The waffle tasted like it was full of all the gluten in the world, which it was not.  And the bourbon pecan maple syrup was like liquid bourbon pecan pie.  If I could’ve bottled that meal up, I would've worn it as perfume. Instead, I boxed it up and took the leftovers home, getting two more meals from it. And just like that, Bantam & Biddy made it to our major-league food list!

Snow flurries expected in New Orleans this weekend.

The hot chills. Sounds like something Holly Golightly would say to Paul Varjak in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. You know, while at a loud party, Holly leans in close to Paul and declares in her almost-transatlantic-accented voice, "I've got the mean reds and the hot chills..."  Except I didn't have the mean reds, just the hot chills, and they were caused by Moderna.

I received my second COVID vaccination last Thursday morning. Initially, I had absolutely no side effects. I may have even been bragging about the lack of side effects (Bragging cometh before a fall, right?).  But around 1AM the following morning, I woke to a headache and the worst cold shivering chills that I have experienced in a long time.  Not willing to leave the warmth of the bed, I burrowed deeper into the covers and went back to sleep.  Within two hours, the cold chills had been replaced with hot chills, which should not be a thing.  It’s hard to describe them. You’re hot and shivering, but you’re also chilled. The hot chills.

By 4:30AM, I had confirmed a low-grade fever of a little over 100 degrees, and had moved to the office sofa.  I was laying there shivering with the hot chills, obsessing about what kind of weather report Sally Tomato would give me if I went to visit him at Sing Sing while also obsessing about how sad it was that the directors had cast Mickey Rooney as Mr. Yunioshi instead of an Asian American actor. As a child, I found the Yunioshi character to be so funny. It wasn’t until I watched the film as an adult that I realized how racist the humor was...

In a week, Eric and I will be considered fully vaccinated.  We look forward to finally getting to safely socialize with some of our other fully vaccinated friends, while continuing to practice the CDC's recommendations of social distancing and masking...you can still get, and be a carrier of, COVID even while being fully vaccinated, and we have too many friends and family members who have health conditions and are at risk. 

I am happy to be a part of the Biden-Harris administration's 100 Million Shots in 100 Days. Which is now the 200 Million Shots in 100 Days because we crushed the first goal in 58 days. Such is competent leadership.

As an aside, about 30 minutes after my first Moderna dose, I detected a strong chemically floral smell coming from the injection site.  Eric could not smell it, even though it was incredibly strong to me. The smell followed me to bed, but it was gone by morning.  Additionally, seven days after my first dose, I experienced what some people are referring to as "COVID Arm" or "Moderna Arm," which is described as a delayed reaction to the shot.  At the injection site, my arm developed a hard, raised circular spot that was itchy, red, and hot to the touch. The symptoms persisted for about 48 hours and then disappeared.