dual personalities

It rained all day Saturday, so I stayed home and puttered around the house. I would probably not have ventured out at all, but the old man and I had tickets to attend the “Elegant Italian Dinner” at our church.

Every year the youth of the parish (and their parents) put on this dinner to raise money for their annual spring mission trip. Frighteningly, this was the nineteenth such dinner. All three of my children participated in this dinner and so did I–usually in the kitchen, serving up the plates and washing dishes.

So now it is nice to go and sit at a table with friends and be on the receiving end.

Everyone comes to this party and by Everyone I mean even the Old Man.

It is always the same menu: salad and lasagna and Italian bread with some fancy desserts thrown in. “Elegant” means they use real china and hang up some strings of twinkly white lights in Albright Hall. There are checkered tableclothes and candles in chianti bottles. You get the picture. The teenage waiters wear white shirts, black pants and bow ties. Oh my.

Everyone goes home at 9 o’clock. And, thank you, I would rather attend this function than any society ball or self-aggrandizing academic ceremony you can name.

On Sunday we watched the Super Bowl with some other like-minded, football-indifferent friends. I rooted for Peyton Manning and his Broncos, but was uninvested really in the outcome. (Ever since the Rams lost that heart-breaker in Super Bowl XXXVI and Kurt Warner moved to Phoenix, I haven’t cared much about football.) It was a major bummer, nevertheless, that Peyton’s team lost and lost Big Time, but oh well. It is just football. We enjoyed seeing our hometown Clydesdales in the latest AB commercial. However, my favorite (besides the Oikos Full House reunion) was the Go Daddy commercial with the running bodybuilders.

Now our local weather wizards are saying we’ll have more snow this week. But Candlemas was dark and dreary, so I hope that means that we will NOT have two winters. However, I see that Punxsutawney Phil predicted six more weeks of winter, much to the chagrin of everyone hoping for an early spring. Conflicting superstitions. C’est la vie.

How was your weekend?

* Charles Causley