Nuts to You. And You, And You, And You....

Living the dream* this morning, I sit down to a cup of coffee ready to fill my head with the rich comedy and high, high fantasy that is the December issue of Martha Stewart Living magazine. I walk in the living room. Another miracle has occurred: there's a place for me to sit down immediately. No goddamn guitars to remove. Somehow they are already in stands. Oh yeah, because I put them there last night. Because both kids managed to secure social engagements that included not returning home. Sorry to Flap-brag, but oh, the glory of it all. An evening (FRIDAY!) home alone with the Flap-dude! A roaring fire, mussels over french fries (our standard home alone fare. If you see me in Hannafords and I have a bag of mussels in the cart, there you go. Don't ask. I'm kid-free. Case closed.) Can this morning get any better?

Upon opening the magazine (and make no mistake, I closely read it page by page from the first double-spread Lancome ad (typical reaction these days to face wrinkle removers: "holy shit, they tell me this gunk has LR 2412 in it! I don't know what the hell that is, but it sounds like some might-T- fine face spackle to me..I want it!)

Next page, a front of book feature "Martha's Month". I scan the page--this section never fails to make me giggle. The sub-heading reads: Gentle reminders, helpful tips, and important dates." This part of the magazine is probably the least reality-based. And this is a magazine that assumes most readers own grommet drills. I have seen "gentle reminders" to turn your fridge around and vacuum the heavy gray grease/dust shit off the coils. Suggestions to sharpen and oil lawn tools! Rotate your window plants by a quarter turn each day! De-pill your sweater with your comb if you don't have a battery-operated de-piller! Does anyone else realize that most of these "chore suggestions" are usually only performed by relatives (or estate sale companies that smarter relatives hire) in order to get your house ready to sell after you have died? Whoever edits this section is just rehashing the content from some "So Your Great Aunt Has Died"-type booklet. And I think they are howling like hyenas at the idea that some bat-shit crazy housewife in Indianna is following the calendar suggestions to the letter. Not me, I'm in on your joke MSL staffer! I can even help you make crazy suggestions. When was the last time the mag suggested some light bulb dusting? Yes, I did mean the kind of bulb you put in the ground. You wouldn't want to put a dirty bulb in the dirt, would you? Course not. Gives those fuckers a light dusting before planting, fer christsakes. I'm hired, right?

And the "suggestion" this month did not disappoint: she tells us we should all scrape out our bird feeders with a spatula then wash it out with warm soapy water. I've got smeared cup cake frosting on the back seat of my car, but what the hell, the birds deserve a shit-free floor more than my kids, right?

After I wipe the tears from laughing out of my eyes, I see IT. An amazingly consistent suggestion I have seen for years and years that has no basis in reality. I see it every year and every year I do a mental Andy Rooney-meets-Erma Bombeck type rant that I guess I am finally articulating as a Flap Rant. (there is no other kind of Flap).

A suggestion to clean out a damn bird feeder is more grounded in reality than this old chestnut. Anyone who has ever read any so-called Women's Magazine has seen it in every November or December issue. The refrains vary, but it usually goes something like this:

"Keep pantry supplies like olives, nuts, crackers well-stocked so you will be ready if guests stop by unexpectedly." The exact quote from the MSL December issue: "Refresh your supply of cocktail snacks before the holidays re in full swing. Keeping basics on hand, such as mixed nuts, assorted cheeses, olives, and champagne, means you'll be ready if friends and family stop by unexpectedly. "

I ask you, Flap Nation, WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME ANYONE STOPPED BY UNEXPECTEDLY? Honestly, if I any one's car pulled up in my drive way, the first thing that would go through my mind isn't "Oh great, so and so's here, let me break out the mixed nuts" it's more "OH SHIT which one of their kids is in the ER and which one will be rotting here all day instead of watching the Discovery Channel on a TV bolted to the ceiling in the ER waiting room?" And further more, what's with all the stress about providing nibbles to someone who just decided to roll on over? . This refrain to "be prepared" is so consistent, I find myself fascinated with its origin. Is it some kind of 1950's hold-over, where suburban families tortured one another with drop-bys and demands for bridge mix? And we know that drop-ins happen. But think of the last time it did: did anyone need food? No, there's just never gonna be a Perfect Storm-scenario where an entire family rolls up, wants to visit, and is hungry. Yet every year millions of readers get this cheerful suggestion. It's almost poignant. If this kind of world ever existed, it's long gone now. Talking it over with a friend this morning, she suggested it's always been some kind of middle class fantasy. It's fun to at least pretend that we are all not so horribly overworked that people have time to visit, and hosts have the wherewithal to lay out a tasty spread within minutes of your arrival.

This fear of not having nuts should "friends" stop by seems to be bordering on the primal. Is it in our race DNA? Do we all carry a fear in our hearts about people coming into our home needing food and there is no food to give? And why the special emphasis during November and December? Why is the publishing industry so convinced that we are more itinerant in early winter? I don't know what you would do, but here is my promise to you, Flap Nation, should any of you drop by unannounced: I will get out of my pajamas if I am in them.


Don't get me wrong, I love friends coming over. I don't even care if you DO show up unannounced. But what's with the expectation that unplanned guests deserve a handful of nuts? Are sane people dropping by truly expecting comestibles? Would anyone of us maintain a relationship with a person who 1. tended to drop by unannounced 2. expected to be waited on when they arrived?

No, we wouldn't maintain relations because those people are clueless assholes who deserve only soft, stale crackers and rancid nuts. And I do think I can provide both at any given time. So I guess I should calm down. I'm ready. C'mon over.



* Sitting down with fresh cup of coffee and a new magazine with no children in sight in the morning, with no pressing engagements pressing is one of my top five Heavenly Things. There are often minor versions of this scenario. Typically I get interrupted every three minutes by Flappette--a child who finds a parent craving solitude a threat to her existence.

Rhode Island is Famous for ...Flu?

From the depths of deep July, I greet you all flap nation. But not from Many Moons, the new Flap Abode, but a charming getaway home in Rhode Island, courtesy of a nifty pal, who has this cool thang called Vermont Performance Lab and she needed Many Moons for this project and I said sure and she said ok, I have this place in Rhode Island and... who cares, just start flapping.

And what affords this flap---on a family vacation of all things? Strangely, I have had more alone time so far on this family vacation than I have in years. Want to know the secret? Sure you do, who doesn't like being alone? On certain family vacations, I imagine solitude would come at quite a premium. Well, I am happy to share it with you, as I just stumbled onto it myself. Here's all you have to do: Just get really, really fucking sick! Have a fever so high your husband is "just in case" googling the nearest hospital. Be so warm that the cat keeps wanting to sleep on you. Also, be unable to hold anything down, or in--food, medicine, liquids, anything ingested is a gamble, a ...crap shoot, if you will. During this illness, if my digestive system had a foley artist, it would be mining the sound scape for the same noises they need for when a giant ship is creaking and about to break apart or maybe whatever noises they use for when irresponsible teenagers are breaking into the local haunted house.

I couldn't help finding myself augmenting my favorite Blossom Dearie song during the earliest stages of this Holiday. Hence the title of this post.


But today I'm in that special zone where I'm on the mend but not quite up to anything more demanding than accompanying my kids to get ice cream. * And now everyone's gone again, because even though the Flap Family's on holiday, it's business as usual in one respect. I realized it was something like this:

Growing up, my family went to church. Very, very churchy. Even on vacations, if it was Sunday and we were on the road somewhere, they found some church and trundled us in there. ( I think it was mostly if I was coming home from Bible Camp. What if I forgot all the shit I learned at bible camp, huh?) I used to think it was kind of a rip-off, this going to church on vacation, and I could kind of see the same logic in my children's eyes when the flap dude came in this afternoon and announced that he had found a local fun run and it started in one hour. Conflict shaded the flappette's face: but ...I'm eating a popsicle and watching iCarly...on a tv...

"C'mon! shoes and socks, now! "

Several weak excuses later, they were all off to the Flap Dudes own Holy Ground--which any part of the earth making contact with a running foot.




* This was the second trip to this fine establishment. The first is all about getting the lay of the land. We had no idea a single/small would be so damn generous. When they handed the cones over I thought they were pulling something on the out of towners and served up jumbos as a default. "Oh god, I did say Small," I thought to myself as I clutched a tenner. But those were indeed a Small. We ambled away, out into some pretty intense heat. Archer lost control of his pistachio top layer, it tumbled to the sidewalk, some 60 yards from the shop. Lucy and I make suitable commiserating sounds. A local old lady was having none of it: Take it back! Tell them they didn't pack it right-put some muscle into this time! She was really outraged for the kid. She had no idea who had just lost this blob of ice cream. Do you even know what a Vermont Small looks like lady? As far as this kid was concerned, he still had enough to throw at his sister, let alone dump on the sidewalk.

A Quiescently Frozen Flap

This Contract is made on ___May31______________, 2011____, between

Eileen Parks, of ___4 Moons Manor______________________,

and _____Archer and Lucy Parks_______________, of __________same address_________________,

For valuable consideration, the parties agree as follows:

1. No child will utter the word "Popsicle" before 10am. Similarly, there will be no utterance of any words synonomos with popsicle including frozen confection, pop, ice treat, ice, italian or otherwise ect. ect.

There will be a daily limit on popsicles once the mid-morning phase of the day commences. To be determined by weather and supplier vendor ("Mother"). Once either child meets the limit, then popsicle availability ceases.

This agreement stands even if one or both children of 4 Moons Manor has a subsequent visitor who arrives after the limit has been exceeded.

There will be no howling protests if one sibling eats a popsicle in front of the other who has previously exceeded their daily limit.

2. No modification of this Contract will be effective

unless it is in writing and is signed by both parties. This

Contract binds and benefits both parties and any successors.

Time is of the essence of this contract. This document,

including any attachments, is the entire agreement between

the parties. This Contract is governed by the laws of the

Ad Hoc Parental Organization _______Summer_Frozen Confection Sanity Savers____________.

The parties have signed this Contract on the date specified

at the beginning of this Contract.

Eileen "Don't Ask Me for another fucking popsicle" Parks

______________________

Signature

Lucy "Can I please have a popsicle for breakfast" Parks

Archer "I deserve one more popsicle even though I've had five" Parks______________________

Signature

By:____________________