Joshua Zamrycki's Weblog

Just three days after America gave thanks for a bountiful harvest season, I got together with a few ex-Pat friends for our own little Day of Giving Thanks. We couldn’t do it on Thursday since most of us have jobs and, since Spain isn’t particularly thankful for the Native American Indians helping the Pilgrims survive their first winter in the new world, nobody here got the day off.

Jonathan thought that if he was able to fit his two year old son Arlo into his oven, he would have no problem fitting a turkey in there. He was wrong. The bird was so big that Hawaiian Tony had to lug the beast uptown to his industrial oven. Tony explains that European turkeys cook in half the time as American turkeys because they have much less fat. He’s a gourmet. And what a feast we had! Pot luck Thanksgiving dinner had us stuffing our gobs with creamy mashed potatoes, the most sinfully delicious sweet potato crumble, a curry-and-prune-based stuffing, cranberry sauce with Cointreau, magnificent carrot cake (as usual), and a succulent Thanksgiving turkey that was logically larger than Arlo. Jan and I provided leeks and glazed carrots – not the all-stars of the meal, but a flavorful side dish staple, nonetheless.

The evening’s entertainment began with a drunken, half-naked fist fight down in the plaza (which we morbidly watched from the balcony while yelling “fight fight!”), serene James Taylor sing-alongs, tribal Paul Simon dance-alongs, and the ceremonial listening of Alice’s Restaurant (with four part harmony). Since no one was able to move after the meal, we all rolled into the den where we lounged around the computer and took turns suggesting YouTube clips to share, like an ancient story circle ritual. We must have filled over an hour with such gems as Who’s on First, Evolution of Dance, Kramer’s Racist Tirade, Chris Rock, Hellzapoppin, and the Muppets (Rita Moreno, Steve Martin, and Mahna Mahna). This year, like every year, I am thankful for the internets.

Alright, let’s see if I can start blogging again. So much has happened recently, it’s a shame that none of my readers have been able to read about it. I honestly find myself composing blog entries in my head every once and a while, but never find myself with enough time or energy to sit down and type the damn thing out. Let me tell you, some of those unwritten entries were funny!

Also, I’d like to publicly state that, contrary to certain rumors that have been floating around the internet recently, this site will not be changing its name to www.emzam.com – even though the domain name is currently available. I realize that the lion’s share of my entries have been Emily-based, but that is because my life has been heavily Emily-based. I will be making a concerted effort to write more about Jan and myself to maintain the site’s equilibrium and its solid fan base. But come on, how can I not write about this:

Look at that shayna punim

Who am I kidding? Readership of this page has gone up 20% since I started posting photos of the little Monster. I know what the people want.

Q: What’s new with emily?
A: Her fist. Her right fist.

Yes, Emily has finally recognized the existence of one of her many body parts. She has always taken the liberty of flailing all extremities with wanton abandon, but just recently she has noticed that she possesses the ability to make her right hand appear before her face in fist form.

But with great power comes great responsibility. Now that the hand is there, the next logical step, as we all know, is to stick the entire thing in her mouth. Easier said than done. This obscene mating ritual usually begins with a cross-eyed staring contest between Emily and the aforementioned fist. This can go on for upwards of three minutes. When neither of the mighty gladiators yield, one must be consumed. Emily’s mouth slowly opens and, with the unwavering concentration of a neurosurgeon, slowly and meticulously she draws the fist towards her face until she invariably punches herself either in the forehead or dead between the eyes. Sometimes in the eye. After five or six clumsy sucker punches, the sweet objective is finally reached and starship Fist successfully docks within galactic station Mouth. Then the licking begins.

Our little prize fighter

Happy two month birthday, Emily.

Boy, where has the time gone?

Our little star!

So, I get this phone call a few nights ago from this guy I’d never met before. He’s speaking in Spanish:

Him: Hello? Joshua?
Me: Yes?
Him: Do you know who this is?
Me: Uh, no.
Him: It’s Carl!
Me: …who?
Him: Carl. I’m Gloria’s cousin.
Me: OK… uh, who’s Gloria?
Him: What do you mean? You know Gloria!
Me: I know a few Glorias. Which one are you talking about?
Him: Your grandmother!

The Jewish accent should have given it away. Apparently, Carl and his wife (neither of whom had I ever met before) were visiting Barcelona from Israel and my Nana told them to give me a call. And I am so glad they did! Jan and I brought Emily out to dinner to meet Carl and his wife where, little did we know, Carl had also invited another family member who is living here in Barcelona: my fourth cousin Johana whom I had never met before either. Joha was born in Buenos Aires but has lived here for the past four years.

The truth is we only made it to the restaurant for dessert, but we still ended up spending about three fascinating hours listening to Carl’s stories of South America, family trees, secret synagogues, used cars, World War II, grandchildren, Polish love affairs, Franco, Jewish baths, and Venezuelan midgets – all with that methodically languid and wry story telling style that is so typical of the majority of the Jews I know from my grandmother’s generation. We had a delightful evening.