Larry David (in tonight's episode of "Curb Your Enthusiasm") saying what it's like to have a dog.
I also liked his contempt for campfire-roasted marshmallows: "Why don't you reduce all your foods to cinders?"
November 27, 2005
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I had never seen a complete episode before tonight (just started getting HBO on Weds). I also saw part of the Seder episode the other night.
Most amusing.
This episode struck me as quite Seinfeldian.
Was Seinfeld really Davidian? Perhaps he was a Branch Davidian.
Cajun blackened marshmallows, anyone?
Well, clearly Mr. David has never mastered the Art of Toasting Marshmallows. Toasting, not torching. Golden brown, not black. Done over glowing embers, not over flame.
Straight from the bag, these pasty white things are not fit for consumption. Try it -- eat a few (or just imagine eating a few) and darned if you don't feel a mix of shame and guilt. You are eating something immature, like veal, or a tadpole.
But with the proper ceremony, marshmallows can be transformed into what is, I am sure, the food of the gods. Why else were the gods so irate when Prometheus gave humans the gift of fire?
And the proper ceremony, like the Japanese Tea Ceremony, requires patience. A small fire won't do. It must include a few logs with a diameter of 5 inches or more. Anything less won't produce sufficient coals. More importantly, anything less won't demand enough patience.
Waiting for the fire to die down is best done in silence. It is a sacred time, connecting us to the ancients. Did I mention this has to be done at night? It's best done on a chilly night.
When the fire has died down, large glowing embers remain. These will range from intense yellow-orange to red. Now the fire is ready for us to offer a sacrifice -- a toasted offering, if you will. The marshmallow cannot touch the embers. Near proximity is enough to transform the pasty white blob into something divine.
I believe that Gerard Manley Hopkins, the deeply religious English poet, had toasted marshmallows on his mind when he wrote his poem, The Windhover. The poem celebrates the glory of God as revealed in nature. It closes with an image of "blue-bleak embers" which "Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion."
Praise God and pass the marshmallows.
Hell...I toast my marshmallows over the flame on my gas range in my kitchen....
What I enjoy most about Larry David's series is that it is such a clockwork universe.
Every action leads to a reaction of some kind.
(For example, get angry at someone for misusing your guilt money, and wait a bit and you will be caught doing the exact same thing)
And Izzy's Deli is in my 'hood. (though it isn't occupied by nothing but Orthodox Jews and I don't think they're even Kosher, though I must say I don't actually look for the seal of rabbinical approval when ordering food)
(and letting your marshmallows become charcoal briquets is unforgiveable, golden brown or not at all!)
"It's like having a bum living in your house."
Which is why civilized folks cohabit with cats:)
Peter Hoh: I salute you, sir! Have you ever considered a book? "On The Art Of Marshmellow Toasting" would certainly deserve a place between Ovid and Shakespeare's sonnets.
Peter: Thanks for contributing your "On Roasting a Marshmallow" essay. We should collect the best essays of the Althouse Comments Section. For the record, on the show, they were sticking the marshmallows in flames, not waiting for embers.
Which is why civilized folks cohabit with cats:)
What tha?!? If dogs are bums, cats are true leeches! At least a bum will sing a port-besotted sea chanty once in a while!
Cats are just too arrogant to have as pets...plus, they won't amuse you by rolling in a dead fish! That whole 'dead bird on the pillow' thing is so passe!
"What can you infer from a single incident?"
The problem, of course, is that this "single incident" belongs to a large class of "single incidents" that seem only to happen in one direction, politically. The wilful blindness of the left-liberal establishment in Madison is not, I'm sure, much different from that in New York, the Bay Area, Portland, or most other "blue" metropolitan areas.
Good on you for speaking out on this.
Sorry for posting this in the wrong thread - the comments link at the post doesn't work.
Shoshanna: Thanks for the heads up. That happened to another post the other day. I'm republishing the post, so it ought to work now.
I'll admit that having dogs isn't the cleanest way to run a household, but I have always loved this quote from Mary Tyler Moore: "When I look into my dog's eyes, I see God." I admit it's pretty cheesey--but dogs offer *unconditional* love, and as a result, often bring out the best in their owners. I'm not a religious person at all, but dogs often seem like a direct gift from God to humans...
Sorry to comment so seriously on a post that was meant to be light-hearted. But I LOVE my dogs and I have to give them their props!
I watch very little TV and I confess to watching none of the shows you usually write about, so it seems a little strange to comment on this post, but I'm with you, knoxgirl. I always have to speak up for my dear dogs (especially, though I also share my home with a much loved cat). Having a bum living in your house? No, sorry, not even close. Obviously, Larry David has never had a dog, or a pet of any kind.
Gina
Praise God and pass the marshmallows.
Remember the name: Peter Hoh.
He's a good'un.
Cheers,
Victoria
Never mind the cajun marshmallows, James Widgerson -- I love your avatar.
Cary Grant. Now there's a marshmallow man if ever there was. *swoon*
Cheers,
Victoria
Larry brought a full grown dog into his house. No wonder he thinks of it as a bum/boarder. Why would you do that unless you wanted a trained, working dog? And if you bring a working dog home it is, presumably, to do work, not to be a member of the family.
There is some weird class thing going on here, or some weird Hollywood thing, or something. I mean how can you not know their will be an emotial difference between bringing a puppy and a fully grown dog home?
It reminds me of the episodes about Christians. They are funny but they are often so alien to reality.
Harkenodog: Larry has never had a dog. It's Jeff's dog. Larry hates dogs. You may remember that Seinfeld hated the dog in "The Dog." Dogs are not approved of in the David/Seinfeld world. Nor are cats.
I have two cats, Augustine and Thomas Aquinas (Augie and Tommy) - they truly combine the best of cat and dog behavior. Nothing arrogant about those two saintly brothers - they come when called and are extremely snuggly. Yet, they don't bark (occasionally, they communicate, with Augie being the talkative one) and don't need to be walked and don't smell.
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