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2001-08-02 / 9:28 p.m. ~Comfort Food, and Jeff Buckley in my car~ I told P. that getting my usual Thai takeout is to me what cheeseburgers are to some, a comfort food of sorts. Not to say that cheeseburgers are not a comfort food to me too. I have two books on this very subject: Comfort Food. It's food that reminds one of home, or of a comfortable time, a happy memory, "home" cooking, of sorts, food that makes one feel relaxed and happy to eat. For me, it's often Nam Sod and Garlic Pepper Tofu. Basil rolls for good measure. There was a time when it was Garlic Chicken from one particular Chinese restaurant where they use whole cloves of roasted garlic, and the chicken is white meat, sort of shaved in thin slices, big hunks of onion. I used to get that, and House Fried Rice, which I knew contained all the scraps of meat from the kitchen, but they threw in scallops too, a delightful bonus. Occasionally my Comfort Food is Southern, chicken fried steak, or "country fried" steak, fried okra, mashed potatoes and gravy. Thick white gravy for the steak, with lots of black pepper. Or maybe just a big cheeseburger, fries and a cold Coke. I have a book called The Primal Cheeseburger detailing the joys of just such a meal, from the beef to the ketchup and the potatoes to the onion and pickles, cheese and the Coca Cola to top it off. It's a primal urge, a satisfying of a deep seated need. Not just food, oh no. Great book, I highly recommend it. Food history plus well written commentary. The long drive to get the Nam Sod and Garlic Pepper Tofu, the Basil Rolls to eat on the way back. The weather has cooled, and the traffic going is not too bad, but I see the cars lined up bumper to bumper going north on the Interstate and I know I don't want to sit in it on the way back. Again, as always, I get there, to the restaurant, and think, Why don't I just eat here? Why am I not just getting a table so I don't have to sit in my car all the way back in traffic? And I know why. Nothing to look at, no friendly face across from me, nothing to do while I wait for my food. I don't like to read at the dinner table. So, I don't eat out alone. Oh, I have, but I don't care much for it. Back the way I came, but I don't go that way. I take an alternate route, try to avoid the highway, and I'm listening to Jeff Buckley, again, but really listening this time, and I almost feel like I'm falling in love with a ghost. He's dead, gone, and it's all so romantic. He's so beautiful, his voice soars, his melodies are haunting, I don't want him to stop singing, to me. I drive back on one of my favorite roads, my favorite part of town because it's in the center of town, not far from downtown, yet it's old money, the houses are mansions, and the trees are huge, towering over the roads. It's like being inside a forest, but there are roads, long and winding, up hill and down, two lane roads, trees covering them, shielding them from sunlight. Occasionally I see houses, but they're the houses of millionaires, surely, and I want to go inside them. One street takes me someplace else, entirely, and Jeff Buckley is playing his guitar and singing, "Hallelujah" and I am really listening to this one, and all his songs, and I see now how romantic they all are, they are love songs, aren't they? Suddenly there's a dip and there's moisture all around, like I've driven into a swamp, it's so vernal, so green, so lush, but this road is short and I end up someplace I didn't think I would, I forgot where this road ends, and I want it to go on forever. There are limits within the city. All roads end, come up on other roads. I'm going home, the tape is ending, the album over, and I feel haunted by this music, really haunted. I looked online, briefly, and I saw lots and lots of sites dedicated to Jeff Buckley, a whole Jeff Buckley web ring, and I see I am not alone. He would have been so famous had he lived. It might have ruined him. And I find out he was a Scorpio, born November 17, and isn't that Nelson's birthday too? Or was it November 16? I wanted to love him so badly it consumed me. I only knew him through my computer, and my telephone, and he never did come here to be with me, like he said he would. Scorpios, I am crazy for them, but it never works out. The vibe feels really strange now. It's been an odd day, an odd couple of weeks, I feel unsteady. Maybe like something's happening, I don't know if it's inside of me or outside, to be feared or embraced, but things don't feel right. I'm going to stick with comfort though. Music that takes me away, haunts me or not, find beauty and comfort in what I can, where I can. It's so important to me right now to find joy. Cost of the War in Iraq
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