I remember one dinner during my childhood very clearly. I was clearing the table in our kitchen in St-Mathias. I remember the smell of the linoleum in the kitchen, and the dining table was the very one that sits in my dining room today.
I was clearing the table and my father sat at the head cleaning his teeth with a toothpick. I think we had had hamburgers, and I had piled the dirty dishes high in my arms. I believe I was about 10 at the time.
I was concentrating on keeping the dishes balanced, and trying to figure out how I could fit more on my arms safely. I had proudly managed to balance 5 plates with utensils and cups in one arm, and was carrying the milk and ketchup in the other (or something like that). I ever so gently picked up the last cup with my pinky finger and started towards the sink when my father looked at me and said:
“That’s a lazy man’s load, you’re going to break all those dishes”
And I did…. right then. Dropped the whole wad of them onto the floor. I don’t know what happened after that, but I know it wasn’t fun. I know I cried and I know he was mad that I’d broken all the dishes. He hadn’t even noticed that I had saved the milk.
Today at lunch I brought up the following load in my arms up two flights of stairs without spilling a drop: one cup of hot tea, one cup of coke, one bowl of taboule, one plate of cheese and crackers, one bowl of grapes, one plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a magazine, my cell phone, my smokes, and my lighter.
Lazy man’s load indeed…..It’s not a lazy man’s load… it’s an ambitious woman’s *wink*
***** Editors Note*****
This is where I started dropping things, and the appearance of many episodes of writers block where I am overwhelmed by events to the point where I can no longer process them. Overload. Production on Anterockstar was going ahead full steam, with a very tight schedule to turn around a 14 episode series, as well as produce a finale event. This, in addition to increased physical training, vocal training, rehearsals, and attempting to quit smoking, something had to give, and it was my job. I was summarily dismissed one sunny Friday afternoon, and I cheerfully left the Ombudsman and my cubicle behind for a brighter horizon. No sense crying over spilled dishes.
Unfortunately, this resulted in increased tension on our already tense production team. The impact of my loss of income stymied some of our efforts. The prospect of the loss of my income caused more panic among my co-producers than it did me, because I knew in my heart that our efforts on the production front would bear fruit. I still managed to get out to promote, and we started pulling artistic stunts, using me as a model and walking talking billboard. One night at Kathedral for a Battle of the Bands, Andy airbrushed our logo and website address on my back. The resulting contrast on my sunburnt skin, especially under the black light, was impressive, and got us in contact with the promoters of the event. My signature tactic, red stockings, snagged me the attentions of the guitarist from Newspaper Taxi one night at the Horseshoe. This resulted in Newspaper Taxi contributing the theme song for Season I, “Fallen”, and a couple of other promotional stunts including an autographed lame skirt, and black and white check stockings.
I listen to that song now, and wonder how I didn’t see the future coming.
“Dreamlike, status, that’s what made us
Reach for, heaven, have you fallen?”