Select Page
A septuagenarian surveys the scene in his spare time.

Home          About          Contact  

Ella and Olives

August 29, 2018 (187 words)

My mother had two enduring passions to the very end of her life: Olives, and the music of Ella Fitzgerald. So every birthday my father came through like clock-work with a can of black olives, a can of green olives, and another selection from the extensive catalogue of Ms. Fitzgerald’s recorded work.

In his defense, this was well before the roll-out of extensive “olive bars” that are now a staple in most local supermarkets. And more to the point, circumstances conspired in such a way as to leave him and my mother without two nickels to rub together for most of their all-important child-rearing years.

In any event, whatever the man may have lacked in gift-giving prowess, he more than made up for with a life-long demonstration of marital fidelity.

Despite repeated exposure in my formative years to this briny fruit that grows on the sunny hillsides of Italy, I never developed a taste for olives. But every time I hear Ella sing, it sounds like my mother is speaking to me.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.
August 29, 2018

Use the contact form below to email me.

13 + 3 =