Coy
Part Sixteen
"Touches My Lips"
(A)
Not
that anyone cares if... ‘you did something’. The little planet of old New England estates is, when right
side up, round. In appearance. I know ...that this appearance is a coy
façade of fabricated myth. I know
that old New England estates are actually... ‘pitched’, ‘up side down’, ‘not
known of’ and ‘forgotten about’. I
know that old New England estates... as a planet... I live on... are...
flat: I know I CAN fall off an
edge. At any time. For any reason.
When
I fall... should I fall... off an edge... I do not bother to ...even... brush
myself off when I stand back up.
That’s because... ‘not that anyone cares’... ‘if you did something’.
Who
cares?
Nobody
cares.
On
the round planet of New England right side up... the coffee tables still hold
the faux “Hitchcock” stenciled ‘serving tray’ with “We have coffee if you’d
like some” in it’s “PLATE” (silver plated) ‘service’; “I don’t know WHERE WE
got that” (your wedding?). The
coffee table still holds... the cheap 20th century (1950’s ‘after
the war’) pressed glass serving dishes offering the “I made them this morning”,
paper napkins ‘pulled’ from a ...commercially wrapped ‘supermarket’ vended
package and... ‘matching flatware’ (“plate” and/or “stainless”, no initials)
but: WITH the... occasional
“WHY
ARE YOU LOOKING AT The BACK OF THAT FORK?”
I
guess... I just... did something... again. At ‘your’ house.
Sorry...
but... ah...: “This one’s sterling; SILVER”.
“Oh...
THAT one. Yes. It is silver. Isn’t it. The
sterling.”
I
put the fork down on my paper napkin.
I pick up the offered full ...mug... of coffee. I set that on the paper napkin. Too. I reach to the service on the tray and retrieve the... “CREAM
if you want some.”
“Thank
you.” I said as my eye caught the halo of oxidation toward the pour spout edge;
the distinctive (distinguished?) oxidation halo that has the warm yellow tint
of oxidation between the black of ‘not polished’ and... the... ‘plate’ (silver
plate; not solid silver... not ‘the sterling’). My ...eye... pouring... ‘it’ (the cream) from that... while
I am all there with the I... doing that this there... lost on my moon walk of
solid silver in old New England homes I... find myself setting ‘it’ (the
creamer) back and... selecting ‘that one’ of the spoons... loosely scattered...
In
a calliope of circular ‘pitched’ ‘Pick-Up-Sticks’ CONFUSION ‘about’ the
tray. This moon beam spoon
confusion shines in MY EYES because I had just SOLD A DAMN SPOONER (19th
century EAPG –early American pressed glass- Horn of Plenty pattern ...flint
glass... ground pontil... perfect... condition spoon holder; the vessel that
held the spoons ...on the serving tray... in the 19th century ...old
New England homes...) so “CANNOT YOU EVEN”... silent screamed as my ‘that one’
comes to me and is ‘I plunge it’ deep, DEEP down to the bottom of my... mug of
coffee as... she watches EVERY GOD DAMN MICRO MOVE of I... being again...
‘watched’ ...that leads to... ‘you did something’. “That one’s sterling too.” I say as I glance up to direct... eye contact... while setting
the spoon on the paper napkin next to the fork and... the wet creamed coffee on
that spoon soaks into the paper napkin... on the surface of the... coffee
table.
What
am I going to do with the fork ‘with coffee’? SPEAR a COOKIE?
No.
I
WANT TO PUT IT IN MY POCKET AND TAKE IT WITH ME. I found it there... ‘scattered’... on the IN THERE of
this... is one TOO? Old New
England HOME. MY, my I found MY
silver fork in your ‘THE SILVERWARE’ flatware ‘service’ and YOU watched ME
...do that ...with just my eye ‘select’ the...
YOU
DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU GOT THEM.
YOU
DON’T KNOW WHERE THEY CAME FROM.
YOU
DON’T.
SO
I AM GOING TO TAKE THAT ONE HOME with me and SAVE IT
FROM
YOUR HELL.
“Your
always so interesting to watch because you know so much.” The other invited guest have just been
standing there in the middle of this... the epic poems of “The Odyssey and the
Iliad”. I re-sheath my sword. I set my shield down. I... should
apologize for fleeting a moment with YOUR SILVER? “It is ALWAYS right to NOTICE good silver”. She says.
“I
notice that when it touches my lips.”
“The...
silver... touches your lips?”
I
pick up the fork and touch it to my lips.
“Oh. That way. I see.”
“Since
I do it all the time... I know; I notice.”
“Oh. Yes. The SILVER... WARE I use... well... but... the POLISHING”.
“If
you use it... it stays shiny with just usage oxidation. You know: Put it in the dishwasher.”
“Dishwasher.”
“Right. Keeps it pretty clean too.”
“That... well.
“Use
it.
“Oh.”
“If
you have it. No point in keeping
it in a box for special occasions.
Entertaining.”
“For
entertaining.”
“No. I find it entertaining... how people
use their silver services.”
“Oh...
that too.
When
I was sixteen years old and first could drive... myself... where I wanted to
go... I discovered... in a smaller village, an older couple who ‘sold’
‘antiques’ from their house. They
didn’t have an antiques sign ‘out’.
They had a sign with their name on it. A very small sign with their name on it. It was not uncommon to me to go to
...similar... houses with similar signs to ...buy and sell... antiques. Behind these tiny signs and the front
doors of these houses... little people; usually long married couples with
‘family’... and always much older than my sixteen... ‘lived’ as antiquarian
...either... ‘collectors’ or ‘dealers’ or... both. Knock, knock... “who’s there” was my understanding of ‘how’
I ‘go there’; to these houses.
Each
house had its own VERY CONCISE interpretation of ...the FLAT world of ‘what’
‘ANTIQUES’ ‘is’ inclusive ...and capped... by the FLAT world of what ‘old New England ANTIQUES’. Is.
I
liked that.
One
woman’s husband sold hub caps he gathered and purveyed from a long self
designed clothes rack style display behind their home. I did not care about hub caps... unless
I found one...; FOUND ONE... and
‘saved it’ “FOR YOU”. His wife
‘collected’ “PATTERN GLASS”.
Specifically she collected egg in sand pattern. “ANY OF THAT” “I ALWAYS WANT” she told me. I ‘did that’ AND brought the rest of the Victorian era
pattern glass I “FOUND” to her.
Too. We got along great
inclusive of I ‘having’ the occasional hub cap. Too. Their flat
world of antiquarian intrigue viewed through... old New England Victorian
pattern glass and... old New England hub caps... purloined by I from... old New
England estates... was a splendid flat world where they and I could ...and
always did... see the edge of and... ‘never fall off’.
The
first household I mentioned was a different matter. Or was it different
‘style’? This couple ‘received me’
at their front door... as opposed to the hub cap ‘by the garage side door to
the kitchen COME RIGHT YOUNG FELLA’.
‘Received’, I was ‘invited’ into their front right parlor. Seated, I and her (the wife) exchanged
pleasantries while ‘he’ disappeared to return with a ... serving tray ... that
held... most of an English coin silver 1830’s tea and coffee service... on
it. This tray was a medium sized
Chippendale rococo edged black ‘japanned’ ‘paper mache’ ‘with oriental scenes’
with these LONG WORN to be just ‘traces of’ as was the LONG WORN from actual
usage... ‘tray’. Set on top of a
drop leaf table against the side wall of the room ‘he’ disappeared again only
to return a true ‘shortly’ with a... matching coin silver coffee pot filled
with hot coffee. I presume in
hindsight this coffee was freshly percolated by electrical methods ...in their
kitchen. ‘He’ poured three cups while saying ‘Cream?’ to me
over his shoulder. “Sugar?”
followed. “No thank you” I always
said for the sugar. ‘He’ brought a
full cup on saucer to his wife first.
Then to I ...who slightly stood up at his approach. Then sat down and... set down the cup
and saucer on a ...transitional Sheraton Empire ‘tilt top’ ‘stand’ (candle
stand) next to my ‘chair’; a large ‘second period’ (1900) colonial style black
painted four slat back arm chair... with ‘Dutch feet’ (Hudson River
style). Everyone in the room knew
that the ‘stand’ was ‘no good’ and ‘hard to sell’ so that it was ok to ‘set
thing on it’, spill things on it and... ‘leave a ring’. I was given a thick white linen napkin,
neatly pressed and folded, too. In
case I spilled? I never spilled.
The
cup on its saucer ... each... for all three of us... were never mentioned
ever. They were 1780’s or earlier
perfect condition Chinese ‘Canton’ porcelain with vivid hand painted (under the
glaze) blue decoration. 18th
century Chinese porcelain touched my lips. Oh... I forgot to notice the feather thin small 18th
century English ‘coin silver’ ‘tea spoon’ that came beside the cup... in the
saucer. “Signed Bateman” I was
told once when I was caught turning the spoon over to ‘look at its back’. It took me about two years to configure
that ‘Bateman’ means Hester Bateman.
SHE was an English 18th century silversmith. I learned... myself.
That
is the first fundamental I learned ‘here’: NOTHING was EVER ‘said’ about ANY... THING... EVER. ‘You knew’... or ...did not know... ON
YOUR OWN. Every... THING... was a
‘know’ or ‘did not know’ there.
This was ...silently passed; the know or not know. NEVER EVER, EVER, EVER... EVER...
‘talked about’. This is because...
this is the way it was (IS).
Silver touches your lips....:
YOUR LIPS. Got it? Porcelain is your SIP...: GOT IT? You do not sop up with your napkin because YOU DO NOT SPILL,
break, smash, tip over, stain, mark, ‘ring’ or ... ask ‘how much is that
WORTH?’.
The
second fundamental I learned ‘here’ is that... EVERY ...THING... is a ‘little
message from the corners of the rooms’ that show... FUNDAMENTALLLY what... the
room owner and ...decorator... ‘knows’ or.... DOES NOT KNOW. Rarely ever... meaning NEVER... is this
a setting where ‘forgotten about’ is found. Under the silently passed discipline of... training... the
knowing... there is no ‘forgot about’.
Ever. Because... ‘silver
touches your lips’.
Porcelain
is your sip.
One
always knows... what’s touching one’s lips and what IS your sip. Especially when it is ‘not that’
(silver and porcelain).
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