Monday, May 07, 2007
M is for Monastic
This is related to the first chapter, as it is on dining alone, but it is now restricted to men. What are the differences between Monk's stew followed by licking the plate clean and the author's dinner of Ry Crisp, tomato soup, and California sherry surrounded by pocket detective stories?
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5 comments:
I may have to reread this one because I'm not sure I got the point. I mean, I don't endorse plate-licking in front of company, but I say if you want to lick your plate in the privacy of your home, go ahead.
I think the point was Monk realized that the plate-licking to save a wash lacked dignity, whereas in "A is for Dining Alone" it was a lonely but acceptable state of being.
Last fall, when my neighbor accidentally started a fire downstairs and we had to evacuate, I praised myself and some higher power for summoning the strength to pick up in my apartment right before it happened. It's easy to say that we'd all like advance notice before a dozen firefighters tromp through our private space. But when you live alone, it's easy to start letting things go ... I think that's some variation on the depression thing I mentioned on your "S" post.
I may have walked away from my point on that one. In the way some say that ethics is what you do even if nobody will find out, I would say dignity might be how you choose to live even if nobody sees how you do it.
Well said, hon.
I think my mom has too deeply ingrained food manners in me. I don't do any of things I hear of people doing when they're alone. I double-dip the spoon after I've checked for spiciness in a soup or whatnot, but that's about as gross as it gets. It used to drive me insane when I'd see a former partner dip a FINGER into the peanut butter jar that other people (i.e., ME!) would later have to eat from.
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