If you’ve been reading this quiz, you know that my wife Sara is a recurring character in my daily contemplations on coronavirus. Self-quarantined in the house with me for a month now, she is, quite literally, stuck with me. I know what you’re thinking: “Poor Sara!” We are all dealing with burdens--so many of them profound and life-altering (if not life-ending)--but in the small universe that is our home, Sara’s putting up with a lot. If this quiz is not a reminder enough, remember that my daughter Annie suggested that “Too Much” be the title of my memoir.
During corona, when people ask me for TV recommendations, I send them to “Curb Your Enthusiasm'' and the season premiere of Season 10. It’s a brilliant commentary on our P.C. culture, turning #MeToo and the MAGA movement into comedy. Each night after I am done with my work at midnight, I watch an old episode of “Curb” to wind down and get corona out of my head.
When Sara wakes up in the morning, we catch up over coffee. She’s had to cut me down on “Curb,” telling me that she knows that I love the show and love the character, but my recounting of old episodes is simply too much for her, too negative and, sadly, a reminder of my sometimes dark view of the universe at a time when the universe seems beyond dark.
And so it is that as I woke up this Sunday morning, April 5th, I turned to the NYTimes to see that Maureen Dowd has interviewed Larry David for tips on stay-at-home social isolation, “Larry David, Master of his Quarantine.”
My first thought on seeing the headline Dowd had turned to David was that Sara was going to be chagrined. Here was the universe, the NYTimes and even Maureen Dowd herself espousing my worldview and affinity for Curb during Corona--precisely at a time when Sara had been trying to avoid it.
The most interesting thing in the Dowd column is that Dowd spoke to one of David’s daughters who reveals that David, for all his curmudgeon anger, does not like discord in his house. His daughters had to fight in whispers for fear he’d find out. I also don’t like discord.
My solution is typically distraction. Don't be upset about this--look at that over there. If distraction doesn’t work, if someone’s upset, I try to fix them--pointing out, for example, why they’re wrong about whatever it is that has them down. It is Sara, of course, who has worked with me on trying to get me to just listen. To be silent. To just receive and offer a kind word. Support.
(I was also struck by David’s daughter’s account of her father’s solution to anyone who’s feeling sad or depressed:: take a hot shower--and if that doesn’t work, take another.)
Sara and I are not self-quarantining alone. John and Will are staying with us for now. We all keep to separate parts of the house except for dinner where Sara’s call for me to curb my enthusiasm is well-placed. Left to our own devices, the younger men and I can get off the track with diversions that are “all boy.”
This Friday, I made my second batch of homemade chocolate peanut-butter cups. They were inspired by a “recipe” I saw on Twitter from sports blogger @Jomboy. Sara’s a gourmet cook and she simply could not get past her first reaction when I showed her the video recipe from @Jomboy because he put a metal bowl into the microwave.
If you’ve seen the “recipe,” it’s not much--and it’s an “all boy” approach to cooking (from a guy who calls himself “Jomboy”). Put some chocolate chips in a bowl, melt them in the microwave and put them in the bottom of paper cupcake holders. Freeze for 15 minutes. Add a layer of peanut butter softened up with sugar and butter, freeze for another 15 minute, Top with a second layer of chocolate. Freeze again and eat.
Armed with newly stocked cupcake holders, on Friday, April 3rd, I spent part of my day off making my second batch of the chocolate peanut butter cups. I made 24 of them--telling everyone that meant everyone could get 6 of them. I used way too much peanut butter--a whole jar.
Saturday, April 4th, Will, John and I got into a detailed discussion of how to improve on the @Jomboy recipe. One of the tricky parts is that the melted chocolate is a little sticky so it’s hard to get it into place at the bottom of each cupcake holder. When you add the peanut butter layer, Will observed that the outer rim remains peanut butter so when you bite into the finished product, the peanut butter leaks out the sides. His theory: add some kind of weight or ballast to the first chocolate layer so that when the chocolate gets frozen, it’s forced up the side of the cupcake holders, forming an outer chocolate rim that would then encircle the layer of peanut butter. We then discussed different items that might work--round and yet small enough to fit in the bottom of a cupcake holder. I suggested a golf ball before we turned to a discussion of a roll of quarters--which would, of course, need to be wrapped in parchment paper for cleanliness. I went into the kitchen to get a spare cupcake holder to inform our discussion with props, when I saw a roll of poop bags for the dogs. They were the perfect size. It went on. Boys, actually men, taking 15 minutes to discuss how to make homemade chocolate peanut butter cups--when, of course, you could just buy Reese’s instead.
Poop bags as ballast?
At last, Sara couldn’t take it. Not only was this NOT cooking, but she’d bought the chocolate chips to make cookies. (I’d used up 2 bags of morsels.) She was also trying to save the peanut butter as a source of protein in a worst-case scenario of an extended self-quarantine where something happens to the food supply chain.
The kitchen is Sara’s world. She’s an excellent cook. I also cook, but the @Jomboy “recipe” sums up my approach to cooking. Bizarre, brute force over a slow and seasoned simmer. When Icook spaghetti and meatballs, I also always count the meatballs so everyone at the dinner knows exactly how many they can eat. Ideally, of course, you make just the right number of meatballs so it’s an even number for your guests. (6 people, 30 meatballs, 5 each.)
When I posted a picture of my Friday breakfast of Lucky Charms to Facebook, a college friend reminded me that 40 years ago in off-campus life and my first experience with apartment life and not getting meals from the school cafeteria, I had used Lucky Charms in a tuna casserole. She observed, “Fond memories of Lucky Charms-topped tuna casserole because hey it called for corn flakes but Lucky Charms is my cereal…” I responded by telling her that the Lucky Charms had the added benefit of creating a technicolor tuna casserole--and that was not a bad thing for something as bland as tuna casserole.
One of the odd benefits of corona is that it’s brought people together. I’ve been in contact with many long-lost friends from college and beyond. I’ve had email exchanges, group texts and Zoom get-togethers with family, friends and co-workers (past and present.) One theme of those get-togethers: cororna-confessions. Maybe it’s the isolation, maybe it’s the contemplation of the death that is all around us, but I find that in reconnectiing with the past in text, email and Zoom, there are often heartfelt statements of regret. I’ve expressed many of my own regrets here, in writing this quiz. To all of you--and especially to Sara--I’m sorry if I’ve been too much. I’m working to curb my enthusiasm.
What did NOT happen?
A. In an earlier quiz, I wrote about some of the dumb---and mean--things I did as a kid. I texted the link to that quiz to my siblings and said, “I’m sorry for having been an asshole too often in my life;”
B. My brother Richard responded, “Having been?”
C. My sister Susan responded, “For the record, I don’t think you were an asshole. We all had our ‘moments.’ It’s part of being a family, in my opinion,” followed by a heart emoji;
D. Susan then corrected my remembrance of how my sisters had fed me baby aspirin during a hurricane in the early 1960’s. Susan wanted me (and now you) to know It was our older sister Ginny who’d fed the baby aspirin to Susan and me. We were pretending we were dogs and the baby aspirin was the dog food;
E. In a Zoom with my sisters, Ginny apologized for two things which she’d done to Susan growing up as very little kids before I was around and aware. I’d never heard of the incidents before (and will not repeat them here). Reformed--and always reforming.
Want the answer?
Answer #20. Curb Your Enthusiasm.
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Want more?
Here’s the next quiz in the series: Quiz #21. “Do Your Job.”
Here’s the previous quiz in the series: Quiz #19. A Dead Kitten.”
Here’s the first quiz in the series: Quiz #1. Stella and Social Distancing, March 13, 2020
The quiz is explained here: Steve’s Stay-at-Home Coronavirus Quiz.
Here is an archive of all the quizzes.
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