Tuesday, November 10, 2009

"The Neighborhood Subway"

My early experiences with sandwiches is older than my conscious memory. I have an aunt in Oklahoma who tells me that when my parents moved back to Oklahoma from California after I was born (1946), and about 3 or 4 years old, I told her how much I loved them. I certainly don't remember NOT liking a good sandwich, or even a bad one for that matter.

I do remember once coming in from a late night outing in high school and going to the kitchen, like I always did, and making myself a peanut butter sandwich. After I put the jar back in the cupboard, and the bread sack away, I wondered why I had only used one piece of bread. Without thinking about it much further, I ate what I had and went to bed.

The next day my mother opened the cupboard and asked, "Who put this piece of bread on top of the peanut butter jar." I guess I had partied a little more than I thought.

Anyway, this is the neighborhood Subway shop where I spend significant amounts of my time and money, and where I try to improve my people-drawing skills. Yes, the people working there know me and one of them has memorized my sandwich, which I have described elsewhere in this blog, and yes, I get double-points EVERYTIME I purchase a "meal" with them. I guess you'd have to say my love of sandwiches is alive and well and my love of this place and the people who work there has become one of my addictions.

ink, watercolor, journal #3

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