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Weekend

 We had a block party. 

 

My husband likes to find "the other gay couple" at any given party--and make a beeline for that couple. Me? I prefer to stay home and watch reruns of "The Good Wife." This is a tense bit of subtext in any party Marc and I attend--Marc knows I am silently asking, Why can't we be home watching "The Good Wife"?--and, anyway, we manage the tension as best we can.


We stood with the gays. Lea Salonga's "A Whole New World" was playing, in the background, for the children, and my husband loudly acknowledged that he had wanted this for our wedding song. Looks of horror passed briefly over all of the faces around us, and then the conversation moved somewhere else.


In Covid times, there is a standard story you hear at any gathering, and we did encounter it here: "My elderly mother in Queens thinks she is immune to coronavirus. She wanted to travel out to some special ethnic grocery store for high-grade mozzarella. I say, Ma, I can ship you some through Fresh Direct. She says, That kind's not good enough. I say, Ma, if it's a choice between death and B-grade mozzarella....."


Trivia hour made a conclusion to the festivities. I was OK in certain areas; Marc and I knew that lithium often pops up in batteries, and that Ralph, on "The Simpsons," is the son of cop. But we were crushed in the Katy Perry round....who knew her kid was named Daisy? And we had no idea that America plays a major role in the international sales distribution of green tea.



And that was our weekend. This is what it's like to be in suburbia. We are not quite as glamorous or beautiful, but we have a decent time.....

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