If you watch CBS Sunday Morning, which happens to be a most awesome way to spend an early Sunday, you would have seen the piece explaining the title of this entry:

The word “pique-nique” – loosely meaning to “pick a thing of little importance” – originated in 17th-century France. Edouard Manet’s controversial masterpiece, “The Luncheon on the Grass,” captured the country’s naked passion for dining outdoors, though in reality, most did it fully-clothed. “Peek-neek” became the English word “pic-nic” – first appearing in print in 1748 in a letter from the Earl of Chesterfield to his son.

“He writes to his son, this is a great line: ‘I liked the description of your picnic intended more to promote conversation rather than drinking,'” Heminway said. “So, I love that idea, that image of the picnic as a catalyst for conversation or as an excuse for conversation and discourse. I think we would have fewer problems in the world, if we forced our world leaders to picnic together.”

So it was a long Labor Day weekend, to which I looked forward, planning on not laboring a bit, taking a quiet pause for myself — minus the “pique-nique.” Because, as I’ve noted before, I DON’T LIKE PICNICS. Alas, friends and family had other plans and while not working the phone or writing, which is what usually occupies plenty of my time, I was dragged to two picnics.

Now if there had been lots of water –in the form of a river or pool or creek or lake– I might have had some serious fun, because I do adore water sports. No, I’m not talking about that kind, you dirty-minded bad boy! But it does remind me of a joke: You can drag a whore to culture, but you can’t make her think. I can’t remember who told me that, but to whomever: Thanks! Unless you were talking about me, of course. If that is the case, you can call me on my BDSM line so I can kick your ass.

So the picnics weren’t so bad after all. I played Trivial Pursuit (Genus Edition) as part of a team and we won three out of three games, thanks to the members who knew sports and history, and  who’s smattering of scientific information worked well with my smattering. I also made my world famous German Potato Salad, which was a big hit.  In fact, all I brought home was the empty bowl. The second picnic was more in keeping with the French definition (see above), with only 5 guests and myself, and all that was required of me was a bottle of wine. I did get slightly tipsy and giggly. And happened to sleep very well that evening. Could it have been the wine?

So I’ve not been manning the kink-O-phone and have gotten more than a few emails wondering where I am. Well, I am here, that’s where I am. Just taking it a little bit easy, dontcha know? I am also dog-watching for a sibling who is on a three week vacation and was waiting for a maintenance guy to show up to fix my garbage disposal and non-working light socket above the stove.  Diagnosis: Disposal motor burned out due to putting long stem roses into it. Light socket just needed new bulb.  I should just surrender and bleach my hair blonde.

And…I watched Dr. Phil, who I’ve totally done a turn around on. I used to think he was another “psycho-babble” blow hard. Now I think he blows hard all right –hard and righteous– because he tells it like it is without sugar-coating it. I mean, after all, if you wanna get right, then quit wining about your plight and do something about it–for Chrizt’s sake.

Hey! Maybe I could do the David Webb thing, and fantasize about Doctor Phil the next time I’m feeling amorous.

Nah. On second thought, I’ve got enough men on my hands.

xo, Angela

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 4th, 2007 at 4:26 pm and is filed under Rhetorically Yours, Sidetracked. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.