Tag: visits

vissi d’amore


Vissi d’arte, vissi d’amore,
non feci mai male ad anima viva!
Con man furtiva
quante miserie conobbi aiutai.
Sempre con fè sincera
la mia preghiera
ai santi tabernacoli salì.
Sempre con fè sincera
diedi fiori agl’altar.
Nell’ora del dolore
perchè, perchè, Signore,
perchè me ne rimuneri così?
Diedi gioielli della Madonna al manto,
e diedi il canto agli astri, al ciel,
che ne ridean più belli.
Nell’ora del dolor
perchè, perchè, Signor,
ah, perchè me ne rimuneri così?

We are a little early, so we get directed into the bar.  Did we tell them to meet us here?  Or were we supposed to go to the hotel?  No, they said we will meet in the restaurant.  Highlands.  Kathy orders a Shirley Temple.  I get some water.  “I have to go to the bathroom.”  So I wait, and think I should call them.  But as I am trying to find the number, yes, find it, certainly not remember it, here they are.  Steve and Yay.  So we are out for dinner.
“I want a glass of champagne.”
“I think I will get a vodka rocks.”
“Yes, I’ll have a vodka, instead of the champagne.”
“Okay, three vodka rocks.” (Was it Stoli? something nice anyway.)
“Vodka rocks.  Half of dad’s drink.”
“Yes, he always had a double vodka on the rocks.  Or maybe just a shot when no one was looking.”

Okay, the tables ready, and we are dressed appropriately for the dining room.  Coats, ties were maybe optional, but why chance it.  Anyway, I don’t get much opportunity to wear ties anymore.  So, good.  An old jacket from what was a suit years ago.  I guess one does not gain weight everywhere at once.  I didn’t anyway.  Steve is worried about his shirt/tie combination, but it is fine.

Our table is in the corner.  Two chairs (Steve and Kathy) and two on the bench (Tim and Yay).  The table can be adjusted, a bit too close, or now too far away.  We are not fat.

Mark brings us menus and, more importantly perhaps, the wine list.  It is a long list, but Steve finds something from the right bank.  That is a kind of Bordeaux, right.  But still I can’t resist something from the left.  A different bank, maybe, but still.

Saint-Émilion Château Haut-Segottes, Grand Cru 2006
Margaux Château Deyrem-Valentin, Cru Bourgeois 2001

Oh, and there are a variety of oysters offered as appetizers.  I remember seeing one of those cooking shows on TV and they were preparing some sort of Appalachicola oyster dish.  Not raw, some sort of baked maybe.  I don’t really remember, as with everything I try to remember, it is only about half correct.  Fortunately, I am happy to be an antirealist about the past.  We get to make it up as we go along.  We can, as a matter of fact, always hope to have a better past.  As, for example, maybe those dinners involving the double vodka on the rocks were not so enjoyable as I remember.  But the vodka rocks right now are pretty nice.  That seems pretty mixed up to me right now, but someday, I will try to figure it out.  Anyway, I remember the old vodka, in the manner of this vodka.  Which makes my past life better.  But maybe I am just making stuff up.  Yes, maybe.

The restaurant empties out.  The people at the table next to us are leaving.  “What do you recommend?” “Oh everything is wonderful.”  “The snapper is excellent”.

Mark comes with the wine.  He, or someone, recommends the 2001 as the first selection.  He primes the glasses.  The wine service occupies the table next to us that was recently vacated.  I guess we are lucky.  A late Saturday meal.  Risotto, veal, pork, scallops, grits, oysters (the smaller ones, “We just prefer the smaller ones” . . . strawberries, french press.  What else?  You want me to remember?  Would it help?

I am wondering whether I will ever again remember anything correctly.  It would be nice if I would always err on the side of pleasant, and then never be corrected.

Well, for at least a few days, and one special night, we are treated pretty well.  And that’s not just how I remember it.  And I am not quite sure why I am treated this way.

4 comments » | Tim's Stuff

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