Dear Reader Column 8-25-05

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Dear Reader,

I learned how to cook when I was a backup singer for The Monkees.

I was an only child and both of my parents worked every day, including Saturdays. So the weekend chores were left up to me. Every Saturday morning before my mother left for work she would tape a list on the front of the refrigerator. A typical Saturday list, or my daily list in the summertime when there wasn't any school, read:

A typical Saturday list, or my daily list in the summertime when there wasn't any school, read:

1. Iron
2. Vacuum the living room and bedrooms
3. Dust
4. Clean the bathroom
5. Fix lunch

NO playing outdoors until your work is done.

Love, Mom

I'd always get the work done, well, most of the time. But the "getting-it-done" part never got started until about an hour and a half before my parents came home for lunch. I'd get sidetracked by other important things, like lip-syncing with the Monkees. "Hey, hey we're the Monkees. And people say we monkey around. But we're too busy singing. To put anybody down."

The bottle of Pledge was my microphone, and a pair of my mother's heels gave me that on-stage look. I'd draw the curtains over the picture window in our living room--I wasn't ready for an audience yet--then I'd slide back the cover of our dark wooden console stereo, put the 33 LP on the changer, click the switch, and when the needle dropped, the magic would begin.

Sing a few tunes, then take a break to do a little dusting, and pound the round steak--Swiss Steak was on my lunch menu--brown the meat, add some onions and tomato sauce, put it in the oven, and then it was time to do another set with the Monkees.

Timing is everything when you're on stage and when you're cooking, too. If the backup "do-wahs" come in on the wrong beat, it's ruined. If the meat doesn't have enough time to slow cook, it won't turn out fork-tender. Everything has a rhythm to it: peel the potatoes, set them aside; open the peas, dump them into a sauce pan--but they'll have to wait for their cues, because it's time to go back on stage.

Thirty minutes left before lunch time: put the potatoes on med-high; tilt the lid over the saucepan to let the steam out; set the table. Only fifteen minutes left: open the drapes; turn down the music; take one last look around the house; and by the time my parents walk through the door, Mike, Davy, Mickey, Peter and I have finished two curtain calls--our last number was "Forget That Girl"--and I'm in the kitchen smiling and stirring the peas.

"Hi, lunch is ready."

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

If you'd like to see my version of the Monkee's album cover, go to:
http://www.emailbookclub.com/photo/monkees.html

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com
www.DearReader.com

Comments

[Chris Fox]

The Monkees, all of them, are doing a reunion concert in Wildwood, NJ in January. Bring your Pledge bottle, Suzanne.