Sunday, November 1, 2009

GRAMPS BARYSHNIKOV

Our weekly Sunday dollar move date gave way to our annual Arkansas fall foliage tour yesterday. We always have our itinerary all worked out so that we time our lunch break at Huntsville, Arkansas so we can eat at Granny's Kitchen, a wonderul country cooking style restaurant. It's a piece of down-home Arkansas which I cannot adequately describe you have to eat there to appreciate the ambiance and the food. Everyone in town eats at Granny's after church on Sunday and we always get there right after noon so we can enjoy the friendly gathering of kissing cousins, aunts, uncles, mommas, pops, old and young at Granny's.

I always order the fried chicken special which consists of half a chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, a veggie and a softball size hot roll. Gramps always gets the meatloaf special which is equally as large and delicious.

We decided to get an extra fried chicken meal to take home and eat later in the week because the chicken is so delicious and so reasonably priced at $5.50. I also asked for a carryout box for the rest of my chicken which consisted of an uneaten leg, a breast and a thigh. I had eaten the wing and the potatoes and veggies, saving room for the apple dumpling with ice cream that we later shared, which was divine.

After we paid the bill we left, with Gramps carrying in one of his hands the boxed extra meal which was neatly placed in a large plastic sack. On the palm of his other hand he carried my carryout box with the remains of my chicken dinner order firmly balanced. We leisurely walked out the door. I spotted some old metal lawn chairs identical to some we have, but their chairs had beautifully painted flowers on the backs. Gramps was walking ahead of me out the door and down the porch to the car.

Now, since Gramps is the family artist I casually mentioned to him that maybe he could paint flowers on the backs of our metal chairs like the ones on the porch at Granny's Kitchen, so I asked him to look at them. Gramps immediately turned around to take a quick look at the beautifully painted chairs, all six feet two inches of him still gingering carrying a chicken dinner in each hand.

I alsways knew that Gramps was a good dancer but he proved to me he must have been a ballet dancer in another life because what happened next was phenomenal. There was a step down from the porch which Gramps did not notice, and suddenly he did a perfectly graceful ballet pirouette, packaged fried chicken in each hand. One leg went into the air, the other foot stayed on the porch, he twisted and turned in several complete circles, and landed flat on his back on the fender of a car parked in front of Granny's Kitchen. With an equal amount of grace he lifted himself up from the customer's car, both hands still safely clutching the precious fried chicken.

I've never seen him move so fast. He jumped up, looked to see if anyone else was around, then assured me that he was okay after I ran to him and helped him steady himself on his two feet.

As is my usual habit, I started laughing. I couldn't help it. He had just performed the most graceful ballet steps, balancing the boxes of fried chicken like boxes of precious jewels. I finally stopped laughing but began again when Gramps said he was just thandful that the owner of the car had not activated the car alarm or he would have reallly called attention to himself sprawled out on the front of the car clutching a sack in one hand and a to-go box in the other with the car alarm honking loudly. Then I doubled over in laughter again.

If anyone was looking out the many windows of Granny's Kitchen and saw the activity of the guy accidentally acting like a Russian ballet performer trying to avoid losing the boxed meals in the dirt of the parking lot and landing on the fender of a car I'm sure they are telling the story to all their kissing cousins in Huntsville.

If Gramps hadn't been an athlete and very physically fit he could have broken something, but he came out of his peformance fit as a fiddle.

I used to think we might take line dancing lessons, but I think we'll check into ballet lessons . Gramps is a natural at ballet.

Fortunately Gramps was okay, just a little blood from a small place on his arm. The car was fine. Gramps' ego was not damaged because he has always liked to make me laugh, which he regularly does. This time his comedy act was completely unrehearsed and unplanned, but he outdid himself by bringing hysterical laughter to me unexpectedly. I made sure he was okay before I started laughing. I couldn't help it. It's in my genes. My dad was the same way, he always laughed when some one fell down. Both of my sisters do the same thing. I once laughed uncontrollably when our oldest sister slipped on the top stair at my house and bounced on her behind all the way to the landing. I couldn't even help her. I had to go in my bedroom, close the door and fall on the bed laughing. I must talk to a psychologist about this family trait. Gramps said in this instance it was good for the digestion since he laughed, too.

Without any ballet training Gramps would make Baryshnikov jealous.
Eat your heart out, Baryshnikov. Gramps is a natural.