WTZ4DNR

Each word is taken from the vanity plate master list issued by the DMV*

*

MOSTLY IRMEMBR DE MNSTRUS PYLE

OF SNFLOUR SEEDE SHELZZ.

ANDA TRIO ZAT MADEIT.

BUT W8AMNET, IAMM

GTNAHED UVD STORI . . .

*

IMOVED TO SMOGYLA BACKIN 1975.

IDNTNO ALOTA PEEPL. INNN L8

NOVEMBR SUM1 HANDS MEEE

AFLYER 4A VGTARIN POTLUK THXSGVN DINNA.

ITT SEZ EVRY1 WELCOMM.

*

IMGAME.

*

OANGST! AA BUNCHA LSTSOUL TYPES

DID SIT ONN FOLDEN CHAIRZ.

WEHEAR ALONG SPEECH NAMD:

UR WHATT YU EET.

*

DISDAI IAMM MOSTLY LETTUCE. IMUSSAY

ZFOOD WUZ NOTZBST. STILLL ITZ THOS SEEDEE

MONTINS IDO RECALL.

*

ALLL DURING DA TTALK ANDTHEN THE MEAL

IWATCH THREEE WOMIN EATIN

SONFLWR SEEDS. WHEN IARIVD THEY WER

EATON EM NONSTP. WHENNNN

ILEFT, HOURS L8ER, DITTO.

*

ZPILE UV SHELS DUZZZ REMYNME OFD

MTRHORN. AFTER DAT CONSTNT

CRACKEN NOYZ INEEDA STR8JKT.

*

ICANC THISISA FAMLLLY: MUTHA, DOTR,

TEEN GRNCHLE. ALLOFEM OBSESIV

SEED EATERS 2DBONE. GUDGREF.

*

YET SUMHOWE IKNOWE IAM SEEING

MYSELF ND MIRROR. YOUNGMN, OLDMANN,

NBTWEEN: ICAN NEVR CONSUME

ENUFFF TTU STSFIME. FOOOD,

6UL ACTVTEE, SSTUF, WUTEVVR.

JUS LYK DEE SNFLWR SEADE CRUE,

IWNTMOR, AND IM

MAKINA BIGMESS.

HOWBOWU?

*For translation of PL8SPK, please see Page 45.

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

What’s for Dinner?

Mostly I remember the monstrous pile of sunflower seed shells. And the trio that made it. But wait a minute, I am getting ahead of the story...

I moved to smoggy L.A. back in 1975. I don’t know a lot of people. In late November someone hands me a flier for a vegetarian potluck Thanksgiving dinner. It says, “Everyone Welcome.”

I’m game.

Oh, angst! A bunch of lost soul types did sit on folding chairs. We hear a long speech named: You Are What You Eat.

This day I am mostly lettuce. I must say the food was not the best. Still it’s those seedy mountains I do recall.

All during the talk and then the meal, I watch three women eating sunflower seeds. When I arrived they were eating ‘em nonstop. When I left, hours later, ditto.

The pile of shells does remind me of the Matterhorn. After that constant cracking noise I need a straitjacket.

I can see this is a family: mother, daughter, teen grandchild. All of them obsessive seed eaters to the bone. Good grief.

Yet, somehow, I know I am seeing myself in the mirror. Young man, old man, in between: I can never consume enough to satisfy me. Food, sexual activity, stuff, whatever. Just like the sunflower seed crew, I want more, and I’m making a big mess.

How about you?