A Christmas Tale, Told On Twitter, Involving Burritos

This really happened. All of it.


12 Comments on “A Christmas Tale, Told On Twitter, Involving Burritos”

  1. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There’s more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!

  2. Not to dampen the holiday cheer, but if reflux happens a lot (and I’ve had those middle of the night reflux spasms that makes breathing so painfully hard), or if late-night burrito consumption is your permanent jam and dammit not changing for anything, consider a regular dose of omeprazole (Prilosec) to keep the acid down, and get an endoscopy. I found I have Barrett’s esophagus, pre-cancerous esophageal cells caused by sustained reflux. I’ve never had chronic heartburn; a lot of the reflux can happen at night when one is not consciously aware. Just something to consider. I want the stories to keep coming on schedule.

  3. Well I was expecting this story to end with you getting a grant to explore burrito art, but a charity donation will do in a pinch

  4. I love every single thing about this, except for the reflux part, of course (with which I can sympathize: I am awfully glad it’s not a chronic thing for you; it developed into a seriously chronic thing for me, especially at night & while sleeping, to the point that I have to sleep in a partial sitting position. Yeah, Hubert, I’ve gone down the omeprazole/diet change road–oh, I miss oranges and tomatoes!–and things have improved a bit.), even though it did lead to the end result. I sniffled a little. Well, a lot. My son teaches underserved kids in L.A. (though whenever I have the temerity to use that word, he scolds me, saying there’s no euphemisms where he works: “we say ‘ghetto’ and ‘poor’ here, Mom. No mincing words.”), so the specific choice pings me. We were quite poor during a lot of my kids’ childhoods as well, so we all know it from multiple sides.

    Which leads me to, I’m on board, and am making a donation to my own favorite kids arts-related nonprofit, The Destiny Arts Center (https://destinyarts.org/) in Oakland, CA. My youngest went to Destiny for years, doing dance and martial arts, and eventually was a teen intern (until a knee injury derailed her). It led, more than a dozen years later, to her teaching dance to local kids in the tiny northwestern town where she lives, until her knees gave out again. But it was a huge part of her life, a major piece in her development of confidence and artistic pursuits, and only possible because of their commitment to being accessible regardless of income. It’s run by gobsmackingly amazing people, several of them, including the director, the same folks who were there in my daughter’s day, more than 15 years ago.

    And yeah, I should have written about them in the “charities” gift guide post, but I was having my own challenges a few weeks ago, and missed the window. So I hope you won’t bounce this comment as inappropriate, in case any Bay Area (or other) folks might find Destiny a cause worth supporting (along with InnerCity, of course!). And for anyone actually in the Bay Area: do check their website for performance schedules; they have a truly fabulous performance company, and those kids are incredible. Definitely go see them if you have the chance!

  5. If reflux happens occasionally consider having a bottle of Gaviscon or Gaviscon Advance around, it will sooth immediately, but just as importantly protect your oesophagus from the stomach acid. Lasts ages open. Though I hope you manage all your holiday burritos without any more reflux ;-)

  6. Keep putting wierd things in a burrito, stuff gonna happen. Stick with cheap meat, beans, seasoning, and cheese. Splurge on good salsa and hot sauce.

  7. John, Is there, in your long and glorious history of burrito consumption, any burrito you regret? (Obviously not this one, cause: kids, art, the Actual Krissy) but any other? That smelt and sauerkraut burrito in ’09? The tangerine, Fluff, garbanzo burrito back in 2013? Tell all.

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