Rumpole and the Cheese
Once, long ago in the early '80's, I drove from LA to Santa Fe to see Wes. It might be my favorite visit with him. It was nice on the road to his house, as the highway led through Flagstaff and the Anasazi/Hopi/Navajo regions we spent so much time in on family trips. It was Wes, in so many ways, who shaped my appreciation for and love of the area. Stopping to make a hard salami and cheese sandwich in a hot red dust pull-out in Walnut Canyon seemed like going back in time and having lunch with everyone after hiking around story infested ruins. Remembering Wes reading The Delight Makers, and how much at home he seemed talking about those times and peoples and places a thousand years ago.
Getting to their apartment in Santa Fe, we spent some time in the main square, and ate at a little, airy restaurant with a wood stove in the corner (even though it was summer) and Wes introduced me to blue corn tortillas and chili verde.
Early one evening, we were alone at the apartment, watching Rumpole of the Bailey onPBS (Wes introduced me to Rumpole, as he did so many other things). The episodes remain unremembered, but we did something I'd never done with Wes before. Sharon had received a large wheel of sharp cheddar and Wes happily started hacking into it. It was delicious. And he pulled out an ugly squat jug of Yosemite Road, a cheap red wine from Fresno or some place. We spent a happy couple of hours with Rumpole in the background, eating cheese and drinking bad wine that tasted great, talking about all the things we always talked about but never burned out on. Fun fiction, including of course Lin Carter (we never got enough of laughing about him, although we appreciated what he did in reviving adult fantasy), lots of history and archeology and family stories of snow fights and Christmas in the Midwest, and Halloween decorations that never came down. Maybe at some point I'll remember more details, and add them, but that's enough for right now.
I don't remember much of the rest of that trip, or the drive back to UCLA, but that evening remains a high point of my life.
Getting to their apartment in Santa Fe, we spent some time in the main square, and ate at a little, airy restaurant with a wood stove in the corner (even though it was summer) and Wes introduced me to blue corn tortillas and chili verde.
Early one evening, we were alone at the apartment, watching Rumpole of the Bailey onPBS (Wes introduced me to Rumpole, as he did so many other things). The episodes remain unremembered, but we did something I'd never done with Wes before. Sharon had received a large wheel of sharp cheddar and Wes happily started hacking into it. It was delicious. And he pulled out an ugly squat jug of Yosemite Road, a cheap red wine from Fresno or some place. We spent a happy couple of hours with Rumpole in the background, eating cheese and drinking bad wine that tasted great, talking about all the things we always talked about but never burned out on. Fun fiction, including of course Lin Carter (we never got enough of laughing about him, although we appreciated what he did in reviving adult fantasy), lots of history and archeology and family stories of snow fights and Christmas in the Midwest, and Halloween decorations that never came down. Maybe at some point I'll remember more details, and add them, but that's enough for right now.
I don't remember much of the rest of that trip, or the drive back to UCLA, but that evening remains a high point of my life.
posted by Rowan | 8:16 PM
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