A Holiday Mystery Revealed (Postcard #86)

This Postcard was co-written by The Gardener and D3 (mostly the latter).

 

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Growing up in a Jewish household, my experience at this time of year was a bit different from most of my friends.  For one week my brother, sister and I would show up to school completely bread-free:  matzo sandwiches, matzo cookies or macaroons, colored sugar fruit slices for a treat, etc.

 

Then I met The Queen, who is Presbyterian and also half Greek, and discovered that the spring religious season is not complete without garlic-roasted lamb and potatoes and red-dyed eggs.  As much as I enjoy Passover (which may be my favorite holiday of the year), the lamb and potatoes are unparalleled as a feast.

 

Between the two families, D1, D2, D3 and D4 have pretty much had the full range of cultural experiences, which is helpful because there are still some traditions I don’t fully understand.  For example…

 

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On the Thursday before Easter I was picking up a few items at the supermarket, and noticed a shelf full of Peeps bunnies.  For those who may not know the name, Peeps are those brightly colored marshmallow animals. Since marshmallows eventually go stale and there appeared to be far more on the shelf than seemed likely to move by Easter Sunday, only three days hence, I texted D3 and asked “What do you suppose happens to all the peeps bunnies after Easter?” 

 

About four hours later, the following reply text from D3 popped up on my iPhone:
 
Well…                                           

A week after Easter at quarter past five,                                          
Every marshmallow bunny at once comes alive.                                        
They hop off the shelves and move down market aisles,                     
Winking at dolls and receiving grand smiles.

 

They waddle out doors and parade through the street,             
Thankful that they were not chosen to eat.                                      
But the poor things don't know- they'd be better off dead.      
These sugary creatures don't know what's ahead.

 

They dutifully follow their sickly sweet friends.                         
Until they approach what will soon be the end.                             
They come to the edge of the specified place.                         
And at once the sounds cease from each colorful face.

 

They hear a loud rumble rise out of the ground.                                
A crack opens up and their hearts start to pound.                      
(They don't have the truth- just the rumors they keep                 
'Cause nobody lives on to tell- not a peep).

 

A giant black cauldron floats up to the crack.                                 
And swallows the peeps- then it gently floats back                       
As if nothing had happened. The street's again bare.                    
Not a trace left behind- not even a hare.

 

But under the street the machines are at work-                                        
They're bubbling, brewing, they toot, twist and jerk.                  
The sugar is melted, re-colored and poured.                                    
Into bunny shaped molds- and then it is stored.

 

Until 10 months later, 6 days and a night                                         
The end of the tunnel has come- there is light!                           
The boxes are lifted and shipped to the store                              
Where the recycled candies are welcomed once more

 

By the dollies who saw as the last batch walked by,                          
But they'll never tell the new treats- and here's why:            
How would you feel- I mean wouldn't you hate                         
A man who would lead you to that kind of fate?

 

You'd think it a horrible end- you’d not go.                         
Because we can't see that big picture, you know?                    
It's just like the story the Bible relays.                                   
Jesus was killed- but then rose in three days!

 

Some things might just seem to suck at the time,                              
But trust that God has the big picture in mind.                          
So I hope that this answers the question you had.                     
(for once, it feels good to know more than my dad).

 

And know this: if another strange query appears,                         
Just ask; like those sugary treats, I'm all ears.

 

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Happy Easter, Passover, Greek Easter, or whatever you might celebrate at this time of year!

Milestones (Postcard #85)

Not long ago I turned 50.  Thanks to my parents’ decision to push me ahead one year in school at age 4, all of my college and high school classmates preceded me to the half-century mark.  So I was kind of used to the idea when it became my turn.

Then again, I am now older than every player in the four American major league sports who has played in my lifetime.  How about the English Premier League?  I’m 10 years older than Ryan Giggs (Manchester United), who is considered ancient.  If I can improve my golf game slightly - about 35 strokes should do it - I will qualify for the PGA Senior Tour – or not.  Hmm…  looks like I may need a new set of comparisons.  Well, Tom Coughlin, coach of the New York Giants Football Team is nearing 70.  Pete Carroll, who just coached the Seattle Seahawks to their first Superbowl win, is past 60.  Arnold Palmer is 84.  Works for me!

One thing I discovered about reaching 50 is that it gives friends a whole new set of ideas for gifts.  A couple with whom The Queen and I have been friends for a long time were especially creative.  At my surprise birthday party (perfectly planned and executed by The Queen), this couple presented me with a large, very colorful bag filled with items including:

• Under-eye firming serum
• A magnifying glass (so that The Queen can see if the under-eye firming serum is working)
• Spectrovites™  “For men over 50”
• A weekly pill organizer, presumably intended to remember to take the Spectrovites.
• Gold Bond Powder
• Fixodent
• Natural Fiber Powder - 100% Psyllium – the economy-sized package for which boasts of a “smooth orange taste”.  I’m not sure what a psyllium is (perhaps it’s where crazy people over 50 live?), but whatever it might be, it is unlikely that it has anything to do with oranges.
• Adult Diapers – I think if I avoid the orange psyllium powder these will be unnecessary.
• Preparation H – Is there a pattern here?
• Bengay “Vanishing Sent” (I remember that stuff from my high school wrestling days, and the only thing that vanishes is the people around anyone who uses Bengay).
• Compression Socks – these are actually useful at any age.  I have seen kids wearing them in road races.

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Then there is D1.  During a recent family dinner, she observed, “Hey Dad, did you know that you were born before the Civil Rights Act of 1965?”  I guess we know what she has been studying in her US History class.  OK, where are we going with this?  She continued,  “That’s cool.  It makes it not seem quite such ancient history.”  Gee, thanks.  I feel so much better now.

In an interesting coincidence, my house was built in 1964, just like me.  In just the 17 years we have lived here we have replaced the roof, the furnace, the basement, the driveway, the front walk, the bathroom, two hot water heaters and three dishwashers.  And what does a house do?  It just sits here all day, every day.  Maybe the Preparation H was for the house!  Did I say that out loud?  OK, now the Queen is looking at me strangely.

 

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The flip side of all this is that seeing the kids turning into real people is the payoff for adding up the years.  At the aforementioned party, D1-D4, their cousins, and several of their friends (all of whom are fairly close in age) had commandeered the iPod and the sound system, and displaced whatever had been playing with more recent releases.  The scene looked like a sorority party, and it reminded me of a line in the 1980’s song “And We Danced” by The Hooters: She could dance all night and shake the paint off the wall.  I could see several candidates that fit the lyrics perfectly. 

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So maybe 50 is not such a big deal.  On the other hand, in less than 7 months D1, D2 and D3 will be old enough to vote.  Wow, a whole constituency at once - now that will be a big deal!  Onward we go in The Garden…