Certain days are etched in your memory. All earning a place based on the significance of the event – some good, others bad. I will never forget 9/11. I was out of town on a business trip and when I called my crew chief that morning to talk about the transport of my race car, he asked if I had been watching the news. Obviously, I had not. And, as I turned on the television, I saw the plane crash into the second tower.
I am not one to be glued to the television – nor am I one to be overwhelmed by emotions. But I could not help watching the news, almost non-stop. Looking back, I think it was because I was trying to make sense out of what I was seeing. Watching with horror and heavy heart as the day unfolded, looking for an explanation.
There are many images that still stand out in my memory. Interestingly, the most vivid ones are the ones that reflect how we, as Americas, stood together as a people. The first-responders rushing in while people covered in dust and debris wandered shell-shocked. Poignant pictures of President Bush at Ground Zero. Firefighters and EMTs from around the country working together.
The American people stepped up to help in whatever way they could. Whether it was donating blood or raising money for the victims and rescue workers. Or, simply prayer. People attended impromptu candlelight vigils and participated in moments of silence. We demonstrated our patriotism and belief in the ideals of our country. Of Democracy. People flew the American flag at their homes and even on their car antennas, while others pinned it to their clothing. Not to mention all the t-shirts.
People gathered together. Sometimes to pay tribute to the dead. Sometimes to honor all the first responders. Sometimes to share their grief with others. And, sometimes because they just did not want to be alone. I was stranded out of town as all flights were grounded but did not feel alone. And, although all of us felt differently in what specifically to do in response to the attacks, we seemed to agree that standing together – a sense of unity – provided hope in this horrible time.
Although Red isn’t cooking this Thanksgiving and will be reading “The Godfather” instead of watching it on TV, some traditions remain unchanged. Like reminiscing about the perfect, albeit naked, turkey! And rerunning Black’s Thanksgiving post from 2020.
It instantly became a favorite of Red’s and provides the perfect opportunity for her to wish you a very Happy Turkey Day …
Today is Thanksgiving, and I cannot help but wonder why we are online. However, everyone has their own way of celebrating. I know that Red is in the kitchen cooking – and watching a marathon of "The Godfather" movies. Which is perfect as turkeys take such a long time to cook and patience is important when you want it perfectly browned. So inviting, so appetizing, so … naked?
Growing up, our house used to be where everyone congregated for the holidays. Not because my mother was a good cook, or even liked to entertain, but because my parents bought a house on Long Island while the rest of her family continued to live in apartments in Brooklyn and the Bronx. In other words, they had the most room.
Thanksgiving was always a house full of people and everyone always gathered in the kitchen, which made food preparation a challenge. Especially as everyone loved to nibble on ingredients during the process. For the most part, Mom was a good sport about it. But, the closer we got to the turkey being ready, the more food she would move into the dining room, hoping we would follow the food.
I remember one year when the turkey cooling on the counter looked like something from a magazine – it was perfectly browned. Normally, it was splotchy, although you never knew it once my father was done carving it. (Although an engineer, he had dreamed of being a surgeon and every year as I watched him carve the turkey, I would think he missed his true calling.) Anyway, my mother was so proud of this perfectly browned turkey that she would not let anyone near it, and was delaying the inevitable carving.
However, she made the mistake of taking the balance of the side dishes into the dining room and my father must have been helping as my cousin and I snuck back into the kitchen. In a matter of seconds, we had striped that turkey naked. Enjoying the crispy skin (ok, this was well before the days we were told it was "bad" for you) and laughing until my parents returned to see what was causing the commotion.
Mom was less than pleased, while Daddy tried to hide his amusement. My cousin ran to the safety of his parents, while I stood there defiantly asking if could have a wing. To this day, I cannot see a perfectly browned turkey without remembering that Thanksgiving. And, I venture to guess it has become a favorite memory of my Mom's, as well.
So today, at the risk of being warm and fuzzy (which is Red's area of responsibility),
I want to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving … filled with memories that will last a lifetime.
You may have to wait until the end of the month to celebrate Halloween, but the entire month of October is Bat Appreciation Month. So, Red can’t help but reminisce about when her oldest daughter, Natasha, first fell in love with bats. And Black? She can’t help but think of her first tattoo?!
assets.rebelmouse.io | Thanks for sending me Natasha's Austin-inspired business plan. But while I know that's her future, I can't help but think about the first time I took her to Austin. |
Black assets.rebelmouse.io | All I remember is that it was love at first sight. |
assets.rebelmouse.io | It was on our way home from taking Sawyer to camp, and I told her we were making a slight "detour". She was so excited when I pulled up to the hotel as she's always loved hotels. But that night, as we walked onto Congress Avenue Bridge and saw the thousands and thousands of bats fly out into the sunset, she was mesmerized and "in love". |
Black assets.rebelmouse.io | Although I knew about the bats (the largest urban colony of bats in the world), if it were not for Natasha, I never would have planned a trip to Austin just to see them. But having watched her watching the bats, I was not surprised, years later, when her first tattoo was a bat. |
assets.rebelmouse.io | That may not have been surprising, but I was shocked when a few weeks later you decided to get a tattoo, and it was identical to hers. I didn't know that you were such a fan of bats. |
Black assets.rebelmouse.io | It was not the bats; it was the fact it was identical to her tat. Although, I think Natasha and I should add a few more bats. And this time, do it in Austin. |
assets.rebelmouse.io | It's amazing how so many of my memories of the girls growing up are connected to Austin. |
Black assets.rebelmouse.io | Funny thing is whenever I would be there with you and the girls, and they would "drag" me to that old-time candy store at the top of Congress, I would see things I had not seen since we were little, so would be reminded of us as children. |
assets.rebelmouse.io | That's always one of the first places they'd want to go to in Austin. That and Green Mesquite BBQ. They both loved Austin, and it wasn't like going to a large city, where there are so many places to go and sites to see. They were always happy to go back to the same familiar places and enjoy simple things, like that snow cone truck or even just walking around downtown. |
Black assets.rebelmouse.io | For as long as I can remember, Austin has always been a foodie town. And, it had food trucks before they became popular around the country. Austin has a unique culture, which may be why the girls, but especially Natasha, love it. And, its " Keep Austin Weird" vibe not only makes it the perfect place for her, but has provided some great ideas for her business concept. |
assets.rebelmouse.io | I'll leave the business analysis to you. I know that she's doing that as part of her studies in the U.K., but I prefer to think about the great times we've had in Austin. And the mom in me thinks she'd be very happy to one day make Austin her home. |
Black assets.rebelmouse.io | Especially as that's where millions of her beloved Austin bats live. |
‘Tis the season for joyous celebrations – of whatever holiday you may celebrate. And fond memories. Even though Red wasn’t born when this happened, it’s still one of her holiday favorites (yes, she initially thought Black must have been on the “naughty list”) and a reminder of what the holidays are truly all about.
BLACK: I do not know at what age my Christmas memories began, but I do remember being very young and in awe of a very large – and very well decorated – Christmas tree in our family room. I even remember peeking down the stairs late one evening and seeing my mother standing extremely close to Santa Claus. OK, you might not find that an unusual memory, except my family is Jewish.
Apparently, my parents thought it was easier to decorate and give gifts for both Chanukah and Christmas than to try and explain why religiously they only celebrated the "smaller" holiday, although I must have sensed that. (Children usually do.)
And, I remember exactly when I came to the realization that Santa was not real. I was five years old and in the hospital with pneumonia and in the middle of the night, a Santa came by giving out Christmas gifts. I must have sensed his presence because when he arrived at the foot of my bed, I sat up and immediately told him that I could not have any Christmas gifts. He questioned why not (maybe thinking I was going to state I had not been good all year, which probably would have been an accurate statement), and I told him it was because I was Jewish.
He leaned over my bed, pulled away his fake beard, and whispered in my ear, "It's ok – so am I." And, without his beard, I immediately recognized him as one of the doctors who had checked on me several times during my stay. We smiled at each other, knowing that we had a special bond, and he left me a gift.
Now, older and wiser, I have come to the conclusion … Santa does exist. You just have to believe …