(we're all about bandwagons…)
Irving, TX
Instead of watching ads on the Super Bowl last night, we had over some friends for dinner, our first hosting of a dinner party as a married couple. Awwww.
Since Berck hates both television AND football, I may never get to watch it again.
I was watching CNN while cleaning up the kitchen this morning and got to see all the ads plus Janet Jackson’s boob anyway.
After doing last minute laundry, we’re off for Austin now.
Norman, OK
We got an apartment!
Even better news… Berck got his student pilot certificate!
All around, today was a pretty productive day, I’d say. We got started off right with breakfast with the Wolfes, then headed straight for Airman Flight School at the airport. We got shown around and put in contact with Dr. Lynn, the physician who does medicals for everyone at the flight school.
In fact, doing medicals for flight students is all Dr. Clyde Lynn does. He’s 84 and has an office in his son’s house’s ground floor. He’s a slight man with a white beard and head of hair. One eyelid is scrunched up. He didn’t have any appointments scheduled for the morning, so we walked right on in. He had Berck perform some agility tests, read an eye chart, and prove he wasn’t colorblind, all the while telling stories about medical practices in WWII. He gave Berck a bonus, testing his “eye-Q” by getting him to recall as many numbers from the colorblind test as he could. “I’d say you’re at least 120, maybe 140,” Dr. Lynn decided. I perused the Apartment Guide in the waiting room, trying hard not to burst out laughing at the conversation in the examination room.
“Now we have to test your urine,” Dr. Lynn said, “but my sister cleaned up in here and threw away all my little cups. That’s fine; we do it without a cup.” He had Berck step into the bathroom and pee on a strip. “And that’s a good color, so on to the next item…”
Once the examination was complete, Dr. Lynn inserted a certificate into his typewriter and carefully typed up Berck’s clearance to take the controls of an airplane. He complained about malpractice insurance rates. “This is all I do anymore,” Dr. Lynn said, “flight medicals and writing prescriptions for Viagra, and nobody’s going to sue me for malpractice for that.”
“Well, I guess you won’t be around a whole lot much longer to worry about it,” said Berck. (Berck insists he didn’t mean it mean.)
Dr. Lynn didn’t pause to consider his mortality. “Then they can take it away from my kids. They didn’t earn that money anyway.”
$60 later, Berck received his first pilot’s license.
Several hours later, we filled out an application for an apartment on the western edge of Norman. Ironically, it was the first complex we looked at, but it was the only one in town with a one-bedroom with washer/dryer hookups … that wasn’t next to Oklahoma University. It’s not terribly nice, but it’s cheap, and we like the location. Plus, they seem willing to rent to us despite not having employment yet.
Memphis, TN
We spent last night in Memphis with Berck’s Aunt Robin. She fed us fillet minion from her boyfriend’s restaurant. Berck’s grandmother Ida took us to breakfast to Perkins for pancakes in the morning. Then we were off for Oklahoma.
It got pretty cold overnight. I bought some long underwear back in north Georgia, but I couldn’t find any men’s for Berck. When we stopped for gas this morning, I told Berck to park next to the pump that was in the sunshine. Even so, there were still blue ice crystals clinging to the squeegee I used to clean the windshield. I came back from the bathroom to find Berck checking the oil in his father’s parka, saying, “I’ve GOT to get some warmer clothes.” But so far today the weather has been sunny and beautiful. I keep trying to get Berck to let me drive so I can sit in the sun. Despite my wool socks, my toes are getting cold.
Knoxville, TN
After taking a detour north, we’re finally heading west. Memphis is tonight’s stop (and the last chance for Krystals). I-40 our home for today and tomorrow.
We left the Schwarzbarts’ this morning (well, a bit after noon). Visiting them is always interesting, particularly because they keep a kosher kitchen. Food becomes a major production because we can’t help or clean up after ourselves. As Arnold put it the first time I visited them, cleaning up incorrectly makes life a lot more complicated for them, “So just let us do it.”
Keeping kosher means not eating meat (beef, chicken, etc…) and dairy for the same meal. Each has its own dinnerware and utensils. The Schwarzbarts’ kitchen has a butcher block bar in the center, divided in half by two grooves that go around each side. One side is for eating meat and the other for dairy, with the grooves keeping spills from contaminating the other side. Parve foods (that contain neither meat nor dairy, like fruit, vegetables, grains, eggs, fish, etc…) can go on either end of the bar.
Kosher meat is a little more difficult to get a hold of than other foods. Animals like pigs and shellfish cannot be eaten. A clean animal must not be sick when killed; it must be slaughtered humanely, it’s veins removed, and all the blood drained out. Arnold and Mary Linda’s favorite brand of kosher chicken costs a couple times over regular chicken in the grocery. But it also tastes much better.
Typically, we have dairy for breakfast (usually lox) and meat for supper. When Arnold discovered I liked herring, he broke out some of his special stash, and I had some last night for a late night snack, as well a few bites this morning. Both Arnold and Mary Linda are wonderful cooks. Berck’s challa bread recipe comes from Mary Linda, though his is his own creation and not exactly parve, since he uses butter instead of margarine. Berck makes challa only on special occasions, while Mary Linda tries to make hers often enough to keep a supply on hand. Smoked salmon and cream cheese doesn’t seem to go with it as well as with rye, so I’m afraid we put quite a dent into Arnold’s bread supply he imports from New Jersey.
We had omlettes our first morning this trip, a dish that Arnold has perfected the process of making. Berck arrived at the bar later than I did and exclaimed, “Mushrooms?!”
Arnold looked at him. “What would you suggest as an alternative ingredient?”
“Bacon.”
Knoxville, TN
I’m celebrating my first Jewish Sabbath. I really shouldn’t be typing on the Sabbath because that’s work, but we went driving around all last night and today, so it’s probably okay. That and I’m not Jewish.
Mary Linda and Arnold Swarzbart live in Knoxville, Tennessee and are pillars of the Jewish community, so since we arrived on a Friday afternoon, we attended Shabbos dinner with them at their friends’ house. Then we attended services at their synagogue this morning. Apparently, the service lasted a lot longer than usual because they didn’t have a reader for the Torah reading, and the Rabbi doesn’t read very quickly. The whole service is sung in Hebrew except for the sermon (which, this morning, appeared to be an amusing skit put on by the kids about the 10 plagues of Egypt). Keeping up with the transliterations of the Hebrew to sing along to is tricky, since the service jumps around the prayer book pretty sporadically. Afterward, we went into the “fellowship hall” and ate challah bread, pickled herring, and gefilte fish with horseradish (it’s one of those foods that really needs a lot of horseradish to be edible). Then we went to Harrold’s deli for the traditional after shul lunch.
This afternoon feels like a lazy Sunday afternoon except that mail comes today, and we’ve got another day of weekend tomorrow.