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Danish
Monday, June 17 2002[REDACTED]In the evening Gretchen sent me out to the 7th Avenue Key Foods to pick up the sweet confection known as "Danish." I'd never specifically thought about "Danish," let alone how to pluralize it, but it was evident from Gretchen's use of the term that there is no "Danishes." She seemed to delight in saying "Danish" as many times and having it serve in as many cases as possible. I took Gretchen's cell phone with me in case there was no strawberry or cherry Danish available, and of course there wasn't, but she said that it was fine to get the cheese Danish instead. Wait, am I supposed to be capitalizing Danish? It does refer to Denmark, doesn't it?
David the Rabbi was there by the time we got back and we all sat on the back deck drinking beer and talking. It was the first time Gretchen and I had used the deck for anything substantial in months. Below us was the newly wood-plank-upholstered yard of our neighbors, resembling a large empty sandbox. The dark organic swoosh of the Red Maple actually looks good the way it's tightly wedged within its slot in the fencing and decking, if one can suspend one's knowledge that trees do in fact grow bigger, exerting a force as great as an iceage.
David was talking about the little things in life that make the blues more bearable, and one of the things he mentioned was NPR. Ah yes, the smart simple notes of the intro music for All Things Considered are like a reliable old friend, always carrying with them a hint of "something interesting happened somewhere today," "other people have more problems than I do," and "something bad happened to bad people somewhere today." Many times NPR has brought light into my gloom. NPR is cool.
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