An Evening Well Spent

Black Friday. A day that is anxiously waited upon, and sometimes worshipped as a major holiday. A day where people spend billions of dollars across the country to “save” a little money in exchange for sleep, stress, long lines, and cold. Nowadays, most people won’t even have to get out of bed to shop. With the obsession our culture now has for instant gratification, all we have to do is go online and purchase what we so desperately "need" – all for a slightly less price on this “holiday”. As for me, the day did not consist of standing in lines or pushing through crowds of people. Instead, I got up, put on an old pair of overalls and a flannel shirt and headed downstairs. I was greeted with a big, joyous hello from my mom, only to be overshadowed by great disappointment as I turned on the TV and switched to my favorite channel, only to find out that the station had replaced The Andy Griffith Show with The Golden Girls. Well, you can’t have everything. I then proceeded to eat my breakfast without the wholesome humor and wisdom portrayed through The Andy Griffith Show. On my plate was wonderfully prepared French toast sticks my mother had gotten me. As for what the day held, I had a lot more on my plate.

As for most students this time of year, my focus is usually on everything but finishing up the semester. Pair that with a few days off, and it’s a bad combination. At this time, I had a couple of assignments to do, and read a book. While my mind was “fresh”, I broke out the schoolbooks and papers, only to be distracted by millions of other thoughts running through my mind. Taking matters into my own hands, I immediately thought of another way to get work done and still have fun. I rushed to download Audible, an app that reads for you, because in our day and age it is too difficult and old fashioned to sit down with a tangible book, right? I started my free trial, downloaded my assigned book, then proceeded to the garage where I would dig out pumpkin seeds in preparation for next season. There I would spend the afternoon gutting and listening, killing time until the main event of my day.

It all started with a phone call to Grandmother. One that always starts with a chipper, “Well hello” or “Howdy howdy” from the other end of the line. A while back she had told me about some cassette tapes she had found from several years ago. I had earmarked today as the time I would go to listen. Like most of her time is spent, she was gathering up food she had made earlier today. Not food made for her, but food she had prepared for others for a funeral dinner. We ended the conversation agreeing that she would call after she was home and we would see if, “it wasn’t too late for me to stay up.” She called a little after 7 and I agreed that I thought I could make it over without falling asleep. So I gathered my wallet and keys and stuffed a little baggie in my back pocket. I walked in and turned the corner to find her sleeves rolled up, arthritic hands scrubbing pots and pans from the food she cooked. She took her time, inspecting every plate for imperfections before she laid it to dry. After she finished washing dishes, we headed to the living room where I was met with a stack of cassette tapes and cassette players. We just sat and listened she read the liner notes she had handwritten several years ago.

The baggie. Years ago when she lived in a century-old farmhouse east of town, she made something that I only associate with her. Popcorn. Not just any popcorn, but the kind where she would get a large cookie sheet, spread the kernels and crank up the old gas stovetop. The end result was her carrying the sheet into the living room where me and Granddad would most likely be watching M.A.S.H or Matlock. The popcorn would always be the slightest bit burnt and have a flavor that could not be duplicated. So, tonight I had planned on bringing some kernels so I could smell and taste that unique flavor again. Unbeknownst to me, she had fixed her special angel food cake for her dinner earlier, and I happened to get to take it home. She fixed me a piece and I happily ate while she told stories of what she had done the past few weeks. The popcorn remained unpopped as she now has a flat electric stovetop and I was sufficiently full from the cake. She had me leave the kernels there so she could test it out for the next time I came over.

Looking back on this night, it may not be the most memorable, or one that will come into my mind the quickest. But, based on the other wonderful memories of my grandparents that were based simply on everyday life, it might be. This night was a night well spent. A night where the TV did not get turned on to watch a show. A night where a phone screen was the last thing I wanted to look at. Where we enjoyed each other’s company and what each other had to say. A night that, to most of society, would have been boring, even edging on unbearable. But to me, it was a night that most certainly will not forgotten.