Well, I'm back. The move went well. I am up to my ears in boxes and will be for a couple months now ~ and I'm going to enjoy my new place. It has room for my father's books and my grandmother's furniture and my artwork. And it's mine. Pictures to post soon!
Meanwhile, as the title says, I'm back in the basement. I think Thanksgiving with the Divine M and the Grill Master is going to become a tradition ~ and a cherished one at that.
Cultures are colliding here a little bit. In case I haven't said so in the past, the Divine M, the Grill Master, and the Poo are black. I, your Pobble, am white. Aside from the strange looks we tend to get when I tell people at the Philly airport I'm visiting family and then the Grill Master wraps his arms around me and swoops me into the truck, it has stopped registering on our radars LONG ago. Until this trip...
The Grill Master's 5 year old nephew is staying with them for a little while and it came time to introduce me.
"This is Miss Pobble."
Whoa!
For the Divine M, it's a sign of respect to one's elders. In our late-30's, she still calls Miss Phyl, "Miss Phyl" and wouldn't dream of calling her anything else. For me...well, I'm a white woman from the South. For me, it harkens back to "Miss Scarlett" and "Mister Ashley" and not knowin' nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies.
Luckily for us, the Divine M and I can talk about things like this. It is important for her that her nephew sees me the same way he sees the other, mostly black, adults in his life. To leave off the "Miss" will set me apart as much as adding the "Miss" did during the anitdiluvian era. And yeah, that makes sense to me. I still cringe a little when he says my name. Probably will for a little while yet. Yet, the reasoning makes sense to me. And, as powerful as words are, they only have the power we give them. So, I reject Miss Scarlet and embrace Miss Pobble. Or at least, I'm working on it.
Finally, in case I don't get on here again today, my very best wishes for a wonderful Thanksgiving to everyone. It's easy to forget all we have to be thankful for. Remember it this week and know you are counted among one particular Pobble's own blessings.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ and a slice of pumpkin pie!
4 comments:
A very Happy Thanksgiving to you!
I hope you're gonna call me today... or at least sometime VERY soon.
My friend, Charlie, who lives in Sicklerville, is black, and I am white. He calls my dad, well, "Dad" and we say we're family. It always gets strange looks, but, I think we're used to it at this point, lol. His father and my father have been friends since before I was born. I always joke with my dad that he knew Charlie before he knew me, since Charlie is 9 years older. It's kinda funny.
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you!
happy t-giving. love you and miss you. give kisses to the "divine" family. there is a silent prince update on my blog.
Happy Thanksgiving Miss Pobble!
From a not so proper former Bostonian reborn as a not so proper Southern Gentleman whose closest friends and former lover also happen to be not so proper gentlemen of African American descent!
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