My dad had a thing for a handful of saltine crackers crunched into a glass then topped off with milk. A child of the Great Depression, he was born to two deaf parents, his mom killed by a train at age 6. I never liked the snack though I would often agree to have some just to be by his side and listen to his sounds of joy. I tried the crackers and milk again about a week ago. I think saltines have gotten saltier since he died.
My dad had a thing for a handful of saltine crackers crunched into a glass then topped off with milk. A child of the Great Depression, he was born to two deaf parents, his mom killed by a train at age 6. I never liked the snack though I would often agree to have some just to be by his side and listen to his sounds of joy. I tried the crackers and milk again about a week ago. I think saltines have gotten saltier since he died.
I love a poem about camaraderie on a Greyhound. Having passed some travels aboard these chariots, I too, have found companions, willing to share whatever they have with them. It’s typically their stories I like best. Thank you for sharing your work here, Sherman.
Hello, Sherman Alexie. Not to take anything away from your experiences just to add that I too have had such encounters with folks that I don’t know but feel related too.
Ritz remind me of my aunt who took me sunrise fishing so I could bate her hooks for her. She always had Ritz, commodity cheese, sardines, and potted meat. The good old days!
My dad had a thing for a handful of saltine crackers crunched into a glass then topped off with milk. A child of the Great Depression, he was born to two deaf parents, his mom killed by a train at age 6. I never liked the snack though I would often agree to have some just to be by his side and listen to his sounds of joy. I tried the crackers and milk again about a week ago. I think saltines have gotten saltier since he died.
My dad had a thing for a handful of saltine crackers crunched into a glass then topped off with milk. A child of the Great Depression, he was born to two deaf parents, his mom killed by a train at age 6. I never liked the snack though I would often agree to have some just to be by his side and listen to his sounds of joy. I tried the crackers and milk again about a week ago. I think saltines have gotten saltier since he died.
Brotherhood served on a Ritz cracker.. doesn't get much better.. does it?!!!
Thank you! :)
I love a poem about camaraderie on a Greyhound. Having passed some travels aboard these chariots, I too, have found companions, willing to share whatever they have with them. It’s typically their stories I like best. Thank you for sharing your work here, Sherman.
Great poem. Thank you. I'm going to slather some PB on a Ritz now!
I read "Crackers" after "Theology 101," and it played tricks on me...Ritz Crackers as Communion.
I love when synchronicities show up in our lives this way. What a special moment, thanks for sharing ❤️
I love this! Ritz crackers are surprisingly delicious!
This is a lovely memory, and shared so beautifully. Thank you
Hello, Sherman Alexie. Not to take anything away from your experiences just to add that I too have had such encounters with folks that I don’t know but feel related too.
Birds of a feather 🪶
Hugs HELENLOUISE J
I love the "bus scenes" in your writing, Sherman, including in Smoke Signals.
This will keep me grinning.
the layers of the piece just keep opening up.
Like a heart released from jail
or something.
Very nice - lighthearted!
Adorable!
This is an excellent poem!
Ritz remind me of my aunt who took me sunrise fishing so I could bate her hooks for her. She always had Ritz, commodity cheese, sardines, and potted meat. The good old days!
We rarely got Ritz crackers but potted meat on saltines was a treat. I still sometimes indulge and it gives me a pleasant memory.