Memorial day barbecue with my grandmother, Miami Beach Florida.


"Hello grandma," I say then handing her two packets of Black Death brand cigarette rolling papers.  My grandmother likes to roll her own cigarettes.

"Who is this?" she says looking at my date.

"This is Claire," I say then smiling.  

"Claire?" says my grandmother.

"I met her at Tropicana Field in St. Petersburg," I say. 

"I hope you like lima bean soup," says my grandmother to my date while at the same time inspecting her Elissa Bloom handbag. 

"Hello Norman," says my mother then walking us to the screened in patio.

"Happy Memorial Day," I say then kissing the forehead of my mother.  "Mom, this is Claire." 

"Hello Claire," says my mother then pouring cherry flavored Kool-Aid from a pitcher and into handled plastic cups.  "You kids must be thirsty."

"Well, Claire and I were kissing a great deal," I say then reaching for a cup.   

"Stop," says Claire.

"Norman, it's a holiday," says my mother.

"Why were we doing that?" I say to Claire.

"You're scaring me," says Claire then drinking Kool-Aid.

"Norman," says my grandmother.

"Norman," says my mother.

"Would you like me if I didn't have lips?" I say.

"Quit," says my mother.  Claire is laughing and so am I when my grandmother enters the screened in porch.  

"Don't start, boy," says my grandmother eyeballing me then dropping a plastic bowl on the table in front of each of us.  She is using a ladle to put soup into the bowls then says: 

"Happy Memorial Day."  

"What's this?" I say then holding my spoon up.

"Ham hock," says my grandmother.  She is sucking the soup from her spoon past her cracked lips and into her seasoned mouth.  "It adds flavor." 

"Ham hock," I say then putting it on the table.  My grandmother snatches it using her fat hand then drops it into her bowl.

"It's the lower portion of a hog's hind leg," says my mother.

"Good soup," says my date.

"Real good," says my mother.

"It is good, isn't it?" says my grandmother still sucking soup from her spoon.

"I don't like it," I say.  Like direction in a television script the three of them stop spooning simultaneously then start up again when my grandmother says:

"Learn to like it."

"Claire, where did you meet Norman?" says my mother.

"A Devil Rays baseball game," says Claire then finishing her bean soup.  

"I wanted barbecued hamburgers and hotdogs and cold beer and potato chips," I say then dropping my spoon into the bean filled plastic bowl. 

"Eat yer bean soup, boy," says my grandmother not looking up. 

"I don't want bean soup.  I want barbecued hamburgers, cold beer and potato chips."

"You want a lot of things don't you, boy?" says my grandmother then removing the upper portion of her dentures.  "Keep up this nonsense and I'll carve you up like a turkey."  

"What kind of a person threatens to cut someone up with dentures?" I say looking at my mom.

"Mother, please," says my mother to my grandmother.  


Later that night we talked about the cuckoo clock my grandmother once bought using S & H Green Stamps and how the disappearance of vacuum tube testers (which were once in all the drug stores) killed my grandfather.