Conversations with C: Crib-ward Bound

I had dinner with my family on Sunday evening. It was the first time I'd seen my brother since the events last week here in the Boston area. He was, and is, doing well, although he was completely exhausted, understandably.

My mother had made chicken pot pie, which I absolutely adore. She even made a separate one for me to take home with extra potatoes. What can I say; I guess I'm more Irish than the rest of my clan!

My nephew C was not there; he was at his school, beginning to prepare for finals next week.

But as is usually the case, he was the center of attention. :c)



I kidded my sister C (his mother) that they were all off the hook this summer, since he had announced last fall that he was going to move in with me - into "our new crib," as he put it.

Apparently he has since been disabused of that notion, since my mother and father rolled their eyes, and my sister C said only that "we should be so lucky."

I asked if they were going to need to rent a fleet of 18-wheelers to haul all of his stuff home. She replied no, he actually didn't have a lot there, simply because his dorm room was so small.

"We may need a hazmat team though," she said.

"Why? Or do I dare ask?" I said.

"All I can tell you is that Mom called him to ask what condition his microwave and refrigerator were in," she said.

"And what did he say?"

My mother spoke up.

"You better get ready, Nana."

I burst out laughing.

"How long did you say it took him to clean his refrigerator last summer?"

"Six hours," my sister said. "And Mom and I cleaned it. His Majesty needed his beauty sleep, you see."

"Oh, of course," I said. "Did he take better care of it this year?"

"All I can tell you is that the last time I delivered his laundry to him, I opened it up - foolishly - and saw something red and sticky all over the bottom of it."

"Ketchup?" I asked.

"That's what I asked him."

"And what did he say?"

"I only used that ketchup you bought me one time, right after you left it here."

"And when was that?" I asked.

She made a face.

"The day he moved in last September. Did you even need to ask?"

"No, not really. Did you tell him he has to clean it?"

"I told him he should have to clean it."

"And?"

"He said fine, that he'd just leave it out in the backyard for a while."

"I know I'll regret this... but why the back yard?"

She mimicked his mumbly voice.

"'The animals will just eat most of it, Mom. Then you can clean the rest with no problem!"

My nephew C: the budding naturalist. lol

I suspect my parents and sister may be the ones asking to move in with me if this is any indication of how the next four months are going to be!

***

To honor the great Richie Havens, who passed away yesterday at the age of 72, two of his peerless covers of Bob Dylan. As you will see, he made any song he plays his own.

First, his magnificent cover of "Just Like a Woman," at the 1992 30th anniversary tribute to Dylan:

That is my favorite version of that song, hands down.

And here is his take on "License to Kill," from Dylan's excellent 1983 album, Infidels:

I was lucky enough to see him a number of times, most recently just three years ago. He ended his incendiary one hour performance with a scissor kick!

He was a force of nature, a tireless humanitarian, and a consummate singer, songwriter, and guitarist. He will be sorely missed.