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The Authentic Eclectic
The Bottom is the Pinnacle
An endless drop to tranquility
I’ve given this prompt some deep thought.
At first, the answer was elusive. Then, it was right in front of me.
Uncle and uncle
I was fortunate to escape childhood without experiencing the head-on screeching collision that is the loss of a truly close friend or nuclear family member.
My Uncle Benedict did make a booze-sodden exit from this world in the late 1960s when I was a wee tot. I remember our wujek (voo-yek) as a cheery drunk, often sitting at his kitchen table playing solitaire, a glass of vodka or Crown Royal nearby. He will always hold a warm place in my childhood memories for being the one to introduce us kids to fish and chips from a local shop wrapped in newspaper and dripping in malt vinegar — a treat that I can still taste, to this day, in my mind’s mouth. Sadly, it’s impossible to find an authentic fish-and-chip take-out shop around here.
