Good evening....pretend you can hear that with the classic Dracula accent. Why? Absolutely no reason, just when I am talking to you all, I hear myself speaking in my head, and that is how I was saying it. It is after midnight so I do not know if evening applies, and I am sure you do not care, so will you accompany into the red velvet draped parlor that is an inner recess of myself? Red? No, Crimson. Why does the word Crimson make me taste dark chocolate at the edges of my lips and pears poached in burgundy wine flambe'. I can smell that odd undertone of denatured gelleed alcohol fuel from the chafing dish...and here is something I love...the feel of a sterling silver fork in my hand.
Did you know that sterling silver has the unique property of warming to exactly the temperature of your hand. Or the temperature of the food, or of your mouth. It has no taste. It is one of my fondest memories of Thanksgiving growing up, eating off real sterling flatware. And while on the subject, why do people not use the proper appellation, flatware, anymore? "Silverware" can include all sorts of things such as plates, bowls, candlesticks, etc. You consume your food using flatware, or flatware utensils if you like. Or you may say, "silver flatware."
Oh well, I'm consigning myself to the ranks of those who still know how to use "who" and "whom." Only this evening did I realize there was question in people's minds about "whoever" and "whomever." I discovered this while Reid was watching an episode of "the Office." Life is funny. Why does it matter, I suppose. Why cling to these old things, concepts, thoughts, and ways. For me...the elegance of a time when life was lovely, when gentlemen walked about in tophats, and ladies only donned diamonds in the evening. Drapes were indeed crimson velvet, gloved hands served tea, and we greeted each other with "Good Evening." No Dracula accent needed at all...for it was real. It is perfectly acceptable if this is not your genetic memory, your dream, your reminiscence, but it is mine. Maybe someday I will move back to Charleston, whatever is left of her...and whatever is left of me.