‘Hurricane’ Valley Gordon has blown through town once again. I was planning to head home
last night but she called and invited me to eat sushi with Charles, Kyra, and
her. I had to be into the bookstore early to change out the terminal server’s
floppy drive anyway, so I figured I’d stay the night and kick it with the Valley
Dinner at Little Tokyo #1 was excellent as always. Mr. Charles was in prime
conversational fashion and topics ranged from the new deer camp on the Louisiana
side of the Mississippi River to his dad, an Air Force gunner/radio operator
who lost his leg over the Solomon Islands (winning the Silver Star and Purple
Heart in the process for crash landing the plane, saving himself and the only
other person alive on the plane, after being wounded, as the pilot was killed
from the fire they’d taken) and went on to the a sheriff’s deputy in Madison
After dinner we headed out to Valley’s sister’s house, to visit with her and
her husband. They’d just bought a new ski boat that Valley is anxious to try
out on Sunday on the Reservoir. While the ladies rambled around the house Dale,
Mr. Charles, and I watched the Astros whip up on the Cubs (Chuck, Steve, and
Scott were at the game so I wanted to look for them but didn’t see them). Mr.
Charles recalled his days catching in high school and reminisced on seeing his
first major league game in the AstroDome and also about meeting Boog
Powell, a hard hitting, smash-mouth baseball playing first baseman for the
Orioles back in the 60’s and 70’s. Now Boog owns a big BBQ joint in Camden Yards,
which Mr. Gordon was most impressed with (being in charge of a Pig Pickin’ himself
he is a most discriminating judge). Boog sits around talking with anyone who
happens to wander by and will give him a minute of his time, which is how Mr.
Gordon happened to meet him. Valley regaled us with a couple of songs on the
guitar, including her first performance using a slide, which she is in the process
of learning to play with. She was singing a song about cooking bacon and grits
and Dawn asked her to sing a song about Gouda grits (high brow cheese grits
to the uninitiated) and Chardonnay. I will have to try to sneak a recording
of Valley playing the song she made up on the spot for Dawn, as I can’t recall
it now but it had me on the floor laughing at the time.
After leaving Dawn & Dale’s, Valley and I went by to see Allison at her
house just off Grant’s Ferry Road. Jeremy, Allison’s new beau, who I’d
met around town before, came over and we had a fine time sitting around discussing
music. Topics ranged from the Greenwich Village photography of John
Cohen (check out his book ‘There Is No Eye’, it’s phenomenal), who was around
to record the hay-day of the Beats and the emergence of the Greenwich folk scene (he has some photographs of Bob Dylan newly arrived in NYC looking like a 12
year old kid) to DJ Jimmy’s club dance hit ‘Give Me What You Got (for a Porkchop)’.
Also, whenever you get Allison and Valley together, you have to re-hear (though
they never get old) their favorite stories of growing up together and being
best friends since second grade. The most often told is when Valley and Allison
were 7 or 8 and Valley confronted Allison on a trip to the zoo with the fact
that she didn’t like her anymore because Allison had more neon clothes than
she did (neon being in high style) and she always said ‘please’, ‘thank you’,
and ‘may I be excused from the table’ to Valley’s mother, and Valley was sure
Kyra liked Allison better than her because she was so sweet.
After leaving Allison’s we headed back to the Gordon’s and had triple milk
cake while watching From
Hell on HBO, which I hadn’t seen since I saw it first in the theater. I
fell asleep on the couch and climbed into bed around 3 am.
I had to be at work early enough to beat the regular crowd of customer’s since
the server that provides inventory and POS services had to be off to get the
drive changed. Valley would not let me leave without eating Gouda grits, blueberries,
and peaches for breakfast. Valley always insists on saying grace before meals
(which reminds me that I will one day have to tell the story of a most memorable
blessing before a meal at a Mexican restaurant in Oxford) and this morning she
thanked the Lord for a delicious meal, delicious company (I don’t know if I
would be considered delicious having not showered), and telling him she hoped
he had a nice day. I don’t know very many people who think to wish the Lord
a nice day, but that’s just Valley’s style.
This weekend is shaping up to be a humdinger. I’m supposed to go fishing with
Valley and Lucky in the morning, then get back to Brookhaven to act as proxy for
Darin and Herwig in the live Fantasy Football Draft being held at the Boerner’s
cabin (complete with a keg of Abita
and a large quantity of smoked meats). A lot of the college pals are going be
in for the draft and the shin-dig following. Sunday, if I’m able to drag myself
out of bed, it’s back to Jackson to get out on the boat with Valley for an afternoon
on the Reservoir. As much as I love the girl, it’s somewhat a blessing she’s
only in town every 4 months or so, or else she’d kill me with fun.
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