Blog Assignment #5 - Planning an Interview

During the Thanksgiving Holiday I find myself looking at faces I haven't seen in a while and in turn looking at faces trying really hard to remember the names attached to them. If some of these transients make their way to my mother's house there are a few that I would love to interview. One being a childhood friend - let's call him Friend 1; he has been with our family for a long time. I've known Friend 1 for as long as I remember, we have been through a lot of life together but he always seems to float away and back, sometimes I don't see him for a few holidays but he always shows up at the strangest times during our holiday celebrations. One Thanksgiving my brother told him that the meal would be at 6pm (Hispanics cannot understand having an early meal, it seems almost sacrilegious in my family to have such an important meal mid-afternoon) after complaining at how early the dinner was slated for he arrived at 8 pm with his parents who had to get laundry done before arriving. It was strange.
Anyhow, if Friend 1 comes by he would be who I interview. I cannot say he is particularly interesting - he is usually quiet but after a few drinks he can sling a joke or two really well. Actually he only knows about two or three jokes because I have heard the same ones over and over again, although to be fair he is really funny when he tells them.
Ok- so some of my questions would probably revolve around his interests because even though I have known him my whole life I know NOTHING about his interests. Wait, no, I have seen him play the guitar so I know that but aside from that and maybe the Mets I know nothing about him.
Question 1 would probably go like: So, Friend 1, what is the most interesting thing you have seen in Astoria?
I would ask this because he is not one for detail and I'd have to ask a creatively worded question to tease out some sort of real response.
Question 2: If you had all the time/resources available to you what would you do, where would you go?
I LOVE this question, to be honest I usually ask this question to anyone I'm trying to get to know....it tells me a lot about a person.
Question 3: What do you love?
This question I'd wait until last because this is for me what would be the meat of my profile of Friend 1, he has been so elusive during my life, it would really blow my mind if he had a crazy cool answer for this!

Blog Assignment #3 - Writing on a Photo

"Sweetheart, could you help me with these bags to my apartment?"
The old lady in 4E hobbled toward me, her rickety shopping cart could hardly hold up the pint of milk and carton of eggs inside of it.
In her apartment everything was meticulously clean and well placed. A beautiful mahogany table held up what looked like a vintage Tiffany lamp.
"Mrs. Wright you have such beautiful antiques."
"Oh, Sweetheart - those weren't antiques to me."
She touched the lamp and smiled.
"You know, there was a time when I had nothing. Let me get you some milk, I made cookies!"
I sat on her pink velour couch, the crinkly pillow itched my arms, you could tell when her last foray into decorating happened somewhere between the years Twiggy was famous and Diana Ross sang in a group.
Rounding the corner  carefully holding a very large glass of milk,  Mrs. Wright shaky hand reached out and located a pretty crocheted coaster.
"Make sure you use that coaster, OK, Sweetheart?"
She sat next to me and pulled up her afghan over knee highs.
"Mrs. Wright, have you always lived here?"
I sipped a little bit of milk, Mrs. Wright forgot the cookies.
"No. As a little girl I lived in Astoria."
"Really! I go to school in Astoria - right on Broadway."
"Yes, well, I lived somewhere near Steinway."
Oh, Sweetheart, did you want cookies with that milk?"
I begged her to please not get up, she looked so comfortable with her afghan. She continued to tell me about her life in Astoria. How she lived through the bread lines and her father pleading for work on the street. I couldn't help but look at her in disbelief as she detailed "Depression Recipes" and sugar rations.
"One day my little brother, Ronnie, got sick with the fever - very badly. My momma begged the butcher for a beef bone so she could make him a soup but he refused. My poppa went to the butcher the next day and offered to clean his floors for a beef bone but he refused again -  my brother died a week later."
Mrs. Wright at this point was so visibly shaken I got up and offered to make her some tea, she liked peppermint she mentioned. She drank her tea in silence and I watched her eyes go back in time, her pruned lips shook a bit and the edges of her eyes were moist. After about three minutes she looked at me, "Thank you sweetheart for helping me, please come by and visit me again."
I started college that year and was swept up in the hectic nature of freshman year, every now and then catching up with Mrs. Wright on the street promising her I'd visit her as soon as I could.
It was a spring day, finals week actually, and on my way back home there was a pretty middle aged woman I had never seen before leaving with the same Tiffany lamp I had recognized from Mrs. Wright apartment. Running to her apartment I immediately knew that Mrs. Wright had passed.
"Hello, are you related to Mrs. Wright?"
"Yes. We, were, Nana died on Monday - are you Carolina?"
The pangs of regret filled my stomach, I wish I had visited her one more time.
Trying not to cry, I asked when the wake was, I knew where it would be; everyone from the neighborhood had it at the same place.
"I asked if you were Carolina because she wanted you to have this."
Looking down through my tears, the pretty older woman handed me a worn pink leather purse and in it was the picture of a grocery store you see above.
The lady looked over my shoulder at the picture.
"Such a random photo, I have no idea what that could be!"
I looked at the lady and teared a little.
"I do."