“It’s the end of the world, it’s the end of the world, it’s the end of the world,” sang the assistant manager of Shaw’s supermarket this early A.M., around 7:45, as he moved shopping carts gleefully under the store’s eaves.
Inside Shaw’s: Empty refrigerator cases that once held ground turkey, beef, and pork. Faces of shoppers that looked like the extras in James Cameron’s movie of the Titanic. I snagged two packages of Aidell’s chicken sausages, a box of Corn Flakes, and a bag of dog food and headed over to Hi-Rise where the la-di-da crowd was acting as if they were between visits to the bank.
The snow had not yet hit and even now it’s falling as if with trepidation, as if to say: “I know you love me, but are you sure you want me to move in?”
The dogs have been walked enough and clamor for more.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, the very estimable Michael Mackenzie of the Australian Broadcasting Company, their version of the BBC and NPR, ran a stunning, almost nine minute long interview with me about BACK OF THE HOUSE, calling the book as lively, “as a novel,” and ending the piece with a snarky comment about the subject of the restaurant written about as, “looking for a sous chef.”
Wood brought in, steak from the astonishing DeBragga ready to be grilled, bring it on.