{"id":1294,"date":"2014-11-20T08:56:09","date_gmt":"2014-11-20T16:56:09","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/slowsuburbandeath.com\/?p=1294"},"modified":"2014-11-20T08:56:09","modified_gmt":"2014-11-20T16:56:09","slug":"1294","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/?p=1294","title":{"rendered":"A very Partridge Thanksgiving"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"patridge\"<\/a><\/p>\n

My sister and I spent many of our Thanksgivings with Patricia\u2019s family in a light purple flat deep in San Francisco\u2019s Richmond district.\u00a0 They represented pure all-Americana with dishes of turkey, stuffing, Japanese mixed rice, a small bowl of pork wrapped in seaweed stewed in a soy\/marin sauce and mashed potatoes, all set on top of a festive table paper cloth of brown and orange turkey and pilgrim prints.<\/p>\n

We all ate together in the living room, where the adult conversation was of things I never understood, and were of family stories in which I became lost.\u00a0 As the adults continued to eat and laugh into the evening, Patricia, my sister and I would lock ourselves away in a room where our soared into the Partridge Family universe.<\/p>\n

Patricia was the first to buy the Patridge Family albums, and our little group of David Cassidy loving girlfriends sang in step to her lead in re-enacting our Partridge world.\u00a0 My sister played the role of Keith Partridge because she had the biggest, undisputed crush on David Cassidy.\u00a0\u00a0 Patricia, with her crystal clear, perfect pitch singing voice, was a natural for Mrs. Partridge.\u00a0 With a long Joseph Magnin dress box turned faux keyboard in tow, I was always Laurie Partridge. Together with a mish mash combo of other friends, we spent many lazy afternoons acting out our own made up Partridge Family episodes, exploring torrid teenage love triangles, traumatic struggles with orthodontia and one exceptionally long \u201cTracy runs away because she wants to pout and be a victim\u201d episode that ended at Rossi Playground.<\/p>\n

On one particular Thanksgiving, our mini Partridge Family of Patricia, my sister and I settled into our world of make believe after all of the adult guests went home after a long evening of turkey and pie.\u00a0 We began a new.\u201cKeith Partridge in love at a classical concert taking place in an outdoor park\u201d scenario in Patricia\u2019s back room.\u00a0 My sister, tackling the role of Keith Partridge, sat cross-legged the floor, picking away at the white carpeting as if it were blades of grass.\u00a0 Patricia took on the guest role of Keith\u2019s romantic interest, sitting next to my sister as if they were sharing a secret.<\/p>\n

I took on the role of bandleader, borrowing a long piece of bamboo as my conductor\u2019s baton.\u00a0 With classical music softly playing on the record player, I made sweeping gestures with my arms.\u00a0 My bamboo baton waved wildly in rhythm to the bold stings and winds of the music,\u00a0 letting the little romantic Keith drama play out\u00a0 until the mood shattered above me into brilliant pieces of falling smoky white ceiling light glass.\u00a0 A sharp, long shard sliced a perfect line across my right cheek, but I never noticed the pain in the shock of wondering what kind of trouble I would be in once our mothers discovered my crime.<\/p>\n

After hearing our screams and cries for help, Patricia\u2019s mother came into the room, confused by the mess of broken glass and girls trying very hard not to laugh too hard.\u00a0 Patricia\u2019s mother\u2019s fingers trembled while she applied antiseptic to my wound, her nervousness in confronting my mother quite apparent.\u00a0\u00a0 I sent apology after contrite apology to Patricia\u2019s mother for breaking the lamp, but her repeated \u201c….no, no, no…it\u2019s okay…\u201d was meant to keep me from sinking into Thanksgiving sadness.<\/p>\n

My mother arrived to pick us up during the chaos, and she also offered her apologies to Patricia\u2019s mother.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe will replace the lamp,\u201d she would offer, causing Patricia\u2019s mother to repeat her \u201c…no, no, no…\u201d\u00a0 This scene seemed to repeat itself in three minute intervals until the mothers disappeared into the living room.<\/p>\n

My mother\u00a0 had remained unusually quiet about the incident until we took our car ride home.\u00a0 I knew some punishment would be involved, and I slumped down into the back seat, trying to escape her attention.\u00a0 Instead, in the darkness of the evening as our Ford Falcon puttered along Balboa street, my mother told me her plan.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen you get older,\u201d she said, \u201cmen will not want to marry you because they will think you\u2019ve gotten into a boating accident.\u00a0 We will get you plastic surgery when you are 18.\u201d<\/p>\n

For many years after this incident, I watched the progression of the scar, wondering when it would envelope my face.\u00a0 As I grew older, the scar seemed to stretch across my right cheek.\u00a0 It showed up on yearbook and graduation photos until fizzling away into nothing.\u00a0\u00a0 The memory of it has still remained fresh and fond, an unforgettable Thanksgiving and the last of our Partridge fantasy.<\/p>\n

(c) 2014 Slow Suburban Death.\u00a0 All rights reserved.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My sister and I spent many of our Thanksgivings with Patricia\u2019s family in a light purple flat deep in San Francisco\u2019s Richmond district.\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[8,17,23,39,43],"tags":[92,245,276,291,317],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1294"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1294"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1294\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1294"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1294"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1294"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}