Saturday, November 18, 2006

On the Road with the Bread Man

Right now I am on a bus that's jerking me along from NYC heading to the Catskills, NY where I will visit my Dad, my sister Maria and her family.

On Monday (or Tuesday depending on the weather) Dad & I will begin a two day road trip halfway across the US to visit my sister, Nardina and her family for Thanksgiving.

Those who know my dad from blog entries and my portrayal of him in Homo No Mo and Fish Can't Fly know that he is a character who blurts out hilarious things yet insight gems.

He also travels with a trunk (aka boot for the Brits. I try so hard to be inclusive) full of bread, doughnuts, cakes and muffins that he gets from a bakery outlet. He then randomnly gifts people with them. Complete strangers. Gas station attendents. Toll booth operators. People on the street. He is the Johnny Appleseed of carbs.

How does the nursery song go? "Do you know the Muffin Man, the Muffin Man, the Muffin Man?"

Yeah, he's my dad.

Actually we call him the Bread Man, and all together, by the end of the month, I will spend about five days on the road with him plus five days on the ground.

I feel thrilled I will spend this time with him culminating in a pre-holiday soiree in Hartford which will certainly include a trip to the Bosnian bar.

I won't promise anything, but now with my new Treo™ 700P, I can blog on the road as the madness unfolds..

Stay tuned. (In his natural habitat, here we see the Bread Man telling a tale around the family table.)


At 10:32 PM , Blogger Heath said...

"He is the Johnny Appleseed of carbs."

Oh my god, Peterson, that's one of the most hilarious things I've read in awhile :) haha

At 11:57 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

I love your father already, he will make a great father-in-law ;)

At 7:47 AM , Blogger MadPriest said...

Alternatively, your father is the courier for an international drug cartel who uses cakes and pastries as the perfect cover for the distribution of illicit substances throughout the United States.

Had you thought of that?

Hey, do you want to work on the screenplay with me?

At 8:01 AM , Blogger Plain Foolish said...

Enjoy your time with your dad. I got to see mine this weekend, and it was good.

At 8:28 AM , Blogger Peterson Toscano said...

heath, hah! so glad I can make someone as cool as you laugh.

anna hp, he would dance with you the whole night of the wedding (and chances are you would get a lot more action out of him than your very gay husband :-)

madpriest, that explains so much. None of it is random after all. Like those Polish men at the pub last night. He acted like he didn't know them, but when I turned my back, I swear I heard my Italian-American dad speaking to them in perfect Polish.

Plain Foolish, thanks, glad you had a good time with yours.

At 1:05 PM , Blogger Peterson Toscano said...

At breakfast this morning my father brought out the Limited Edition Thomas' Cranberry English Muffins.

They tasted particularly good smothered in vegetarian baked beans--a classy version of "beans on toast".

At 2:08 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thanks so much for your inclusive language!

In this politically correct day and age it is important not to offend elephants, inferring that their trunks are not what they wear when swimming, nor are they boots that they wear when walking, but trunks, as in elephant's trunks.

I had to look up what English Muffins were, and discovered here that:
The English muffin is not a muffin, but a variation of the crumpet. The Brits did not invent the English muffin—in fact, they had never heard of it until the 1990s

I get the feeling that the Atlantic has just got a little wider, and our "common" language has divulged a little further, but it's good to keep up the communication.

Have a great Thanksgiving!

At 6:45 PM , Blogger Contemplative Activist said...

Cranberry English muffins....hmmmm, sounds like an American invention to me ;)


At 12:15 AM , Blogger Peterson Toscano said...

jimbo and CA, I somehow feel that you are saying disparaging remarks about my national heritage. Here I held out a palm branch, sought to be culturally sensitive, and what do you do? Lash out.

That hurts more than you can imagine.
We are going to have to bomb your country with turkeys as an expression of our cultural identity.

Happy Thanksgiving.
Do you need any cranberry sauce or candied sweet potatoes? Pumpkin pie?


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