This past weekend was the University's graduation weekend. One aspect of most graduations is the bestowing of honorary degrees. One such degree was given to my father's former classmate and friend, Richard Tillinghast...formerly referenced on this blog as
the poet. On Friday night, as part of the whole process, there was a dinner in honor of Richard and the four Episcopalians (perhaps not all of them bishops) also receiving degrees. Outside the building where the dinner was taking place, vendors were setting up for the next day's craft fair. We saw these flowers getting ready for sale.
This was a rather fancy shin dig, generally speaking. Many wore black ties and the food aspired to being upscale. Unfortunately the food failed. The booze, on the other hand, seemed pretty decent...at least in as much as it flowed freely. I found it funny, a predominantly white crowd all in their finest while the bartenders, black men mostly over 50 wore appropriately catering-like clothes but with a variety of sports baseball caps. I had white wine and restrained myself. These appetizers were bad.
I was a late addition to this event which meant that I did not get to sit with my parents. Instead I was in the wilderness of Table 8. Actually, I had a better spot than most to see those speaking at the podium. This table placement probably had something to do with the fact that one of the other honorees (
James G. Calloway) was sitting at this table. The starter for the meal was a tomato and cornbread thing with ranch dressing. The tomatoes were okay. That's all I can really say for it.
The main course was a jerk seasoned grouper with sad kebab of shrimp and a fruit salsa. I didn't mind the fish, it was spicier than one might expect from, basically, a Sysco-like food service system...but my mother seemed to despise it and I found the shrimp to be pathetic.
For dessert there was a mocha "creme brulee". The flavor of the pudding was decent enough but to call it creme brulee was grasping at straws.
After the meal we got to hear each honoree give a little speech about how they thought they came to be on the mountain for this event. Also there, having received his degree about twenty years ago, was Bishop Desmond Tutu. That was kind of cool.
This was a rather fancy shin dig, generally speaking. Many wore black ties and the food aspired to being upscale. Unfortunately the food failed. The booze, on the other hand, seemed pretty decent...at least in as much as it flowed freely. I found it funny, a predominantly white crowd all in their finest while the bartenders, black men mostly over 50 wore appropriately catering-like clothes but with a variety of sports baseball caps. I had white wine and restrained myself. These appetizers were bad.
I was a late addition to this event which meant that I did not get to sit with my parents. Instead I was in the wilderness of Table 8. Actually, I had a better spot than most to see those speaking at the podium. This table placement probably had something to do with the fact that one of the other honorees (James G. Calloway) was sitting at this table. The starter for the meal was a tomato and cornbread thing with ranch dressing. The tomatoes were okay. That's all I can really say for it.
The main course was a jerk seasoned grouper with sad kebab of shrimp and a fruit salsa. I didn't mind the fish, it was spicier than one might expect from, basically, a Sysco-like food service system...but my mother seemed to despise it and I found the shrimp to be pathetic.
For dessert there was a mocha "creme brulee". The flavor of the pudding was decent enough but to call it creme brulee was grasping at straws.
After the meal we got to hear each honoree give a little speech about how they thought they came to be on the mountain for this event. Also there, having received his degree about twenty years ago, was Bishop Desmond Tutu. That was kind of cool.
4 comments:
Ewwww Cravens Hall and Sysco food...brave you for trying, me I do believe I would have messed it about on my plate and smiled a lot...
Very cool about Archbishop Tutu. One way out there awesome fellow. We had a film in class about the shakey steps post apartheid in South Africa, and the then-nascent Truth and Reconciliation project, and he was so clear about healing and not re-fighting the horrors, not looking for revenge. An amazing film, Long Night's Journey into Day. Awful what we do to one another in the name of (fill in the damn blank).
I love that he wears what looks like a traditional Jewish yarmalke (oooh spelling) in his glorious fuscia magenta hot pink Anglican clerical ensembles.
Lucky you, a poet and a prophet in one evening!
Just in case anyone wants to know (quite unlikely...):
The cap that Archbishop Tutu is wearing is part of his formal dress. Catholic bishops always wear it, and some Anglican bishops do as well. Wikipedia know more about it -- apparently it's called "Zucchetto".
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zucchetto
Huckleberry, thanks for the info...that's the sort of thing I would never know unless someone else told me...in a good way.
Yes, Tutu was quite endearing. He made jokes, wasn't too overly serious but talked well...except that his was the longest speech and the last...and I had to pee something awful.
Hey Huckleberry, thanks for the bit of arcanae! I resisted calling it a keppie because I think that is something altogether different. I will spring this word on my work colleagues the next time dictionary dot com's word of the day is too easy. Well too easy for them, I am batting about 78 percent accurate-to-close-enough while they are flat flummoxed but then I was a strange child and read the encyclopedias as there was not a lot to do in the hot hot humid of summer...
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