I remember Thanksgiving

It was day before yesterday when all across the park
neither chicano ni gringo was stirring from the dark .

The locals were all set for their regular Thursday plan
e'en tho' they all knew t'was holiday 'cross the line .

My landlord in his jacket and I in my poncho
walked over the park to Carlos' for a good turkey lonche .

Ay pinche gringo, he said, it ain't lunch, you fool;
t'is dinner you should know for your own damn yule!

I grew up in San Diego, the dog wagging its taile from L.A.
down in the corner of the map, see there?  We thought Tijuana
was another neighborhood in San Diego, but that was already
a vision that we were on the frontier, not really in a
nation except we Were IN a Nation yes pledge allegiance SÍ

Anyway it's really the reverse now, San Diego is just another
neighborhood on the border of Tijuana that's true hold the
line right there light up the border now, said them = VOILA!

Have you seen the floodlights marching up and down the hills
across the dusty valley bottoms leaping gulleys and trash ?

Today's philosophy -- this page is a collect

a Collection

Defense lawyers argue the fotos nunca se publicarán .

They say on TV that the Ferry Berkeley on San Diego Bay
brought down years ago from the north

is haunted.

I rode on the ferry across San Francisco Bay on
the last day in service.

I was five years old.

With my grandmother North and the Andersons or
Davidsons.

I remember the crowds we were happy
going to San Francisco

Every summer for three years I flew up to
see my grandmother and old family friends.

the airplane trip took almost four hours

I was six and seven and eight
Momma and Dad put me on the plane

the others met me in SFO
where the water tastes so much better

DC-6                            it was

this would be a little narrative of lines
there was a drinking woman in the tail lounge
                               of the air liner

RRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrr went the four piston propellers
whamity wham blam bam            when they started
several men were drinking with her yes

yes                                     y e s

Carlos H. prepared a simple but not incomplete and certainly not inelegant turkey dinner. Salad of lettuce and grape with his signature dressing. Then a selection of white and dark meat with stuffing (incredible, mushroom, walnut, delicate and soft, puree'd, he said), a killer potato soufflé (mmmmmmmmmmmm), and of course gravy (with no fatty taste to it) and cranberries.

Mike and I agreed we have never in our life tasted anything quite so good. I was expecting something very good, and well, as usual, this damn chef turned out something even better than any expectation. You cannot eat expectations.

Raul my landlord growls today he hates going over there because the man cooks so damn good it makes him furious and then he eats and forgives him all his genius.

I thought about Captain Kirk being divided into his good and bad personae twins yes you remember. That's the metaphor here. You know,

C A V E A T       L E C T O R

yep .                      D'at's right write

                           deliberate

.                                               .

The bird was roasted and then carved.  He kept the meat then in a pan of turkey bone broth, covered with foil and warmed in the oven until serving.  He tasty cook the turkey meat served thus moist and savory and warmmmmmmmmmmmm