The Table Or the Tree
It never ceases to amaze me how we can believe that an actor/actress on a commercial is really
the character he or she portrayed on a sitcom. Watching T.V. the other night, Roseanne Barr was
doing a commercial on Nick@Nite talking about the importance of having dinner at the "family
table." So the commercial flashed back to her and John Goodman on a Roseanne episode sitting
at the dinner table engaged in an argument which was supposed to be funny to the viewer. The
point of the commercial was that it doesn't matter what goes on at the family table as long as you
have one.
As a kid, we had a family table. It was a war zone. I'm sure that many people can relate to my
family table, and I am sick of calling it that, too. (What is this new term family table- anyway?)
In my house, the family table was more like the family zoo. It didn't really dawn on me how
crazy it was until my sister started dating, and she would bring one of her boyfriends home for
dinner. The poor guy would sit there and watch as my father cooled a baked potato. You know,
the way everyone does it. Take the potato out of the skin with a fork and hold it about two feet in
the air for about 15 seconds and stare at the steam. Then wave it up and down like a magic wand
4 or 5 times until you think it is cool. We all knew it was still hot. He would start to eat it, and
then he would leave his mouth half open while he sucked air in to try to cool it.
You see, my father was a short order cook when he was younger, and he was also a mess
sergeant in the army. I guess he thought that made him some sort of chef. He always complained
about my mother's cooking. She wasn't very open to his comments either which led to the battle
lines being drawn between the two of them.
My dad also watched his diet; his dinners consisted of a small piece of protein, a vegetable, a
potato, and a slice of bread. My mother consistently made those meals for him every night for
dinner. But she always fed my two sisters and me the good s