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In Lockdown at San Quarantine with Nancy Silverton as My Cellie

Michael Krikorian: It’s been strangely wonderful. But, today we did something that was so out of the ordinary, so straight out un-Nancy like that it compelled me to write. We watched a segment this morning of “Let’s Make A Deal”.

Like most everyone in California, I’m in lockdown. In a Garcetti-Newsom ordered “isolation”, for the benefit of us and everyone else. Kinda like when Big Evil used to get sent – for years – to the Adjustment Center at San Quentin. I call this home confinement San Quarantine. My cellie is Nancy Silverton

San Quarantine

Like most everyone in California, I’m in lockdown. In a Garcetti-Newsom ordered “isolation”, for the benefit of us and everyone else. Kinda like when Big Evil used to get sent – for years – to the Adjustment Center at San Quentin. I call this home confinement San Quarantine. My cellie is Nancy Silverton

Being in isolation with Nancy Silverton sounds like a dream come true. So when I heard we had to stay in the house, in San Quarantine, I thought about the opening lines of “Cheek to Cheek”. Nancy works so much at the Mozza Corner that I could get the whole day with her without dozens of people coming up with issues and/or boring chat. No one walking up as we eat and “Dinnerrupting” us.

It’s been strangely wonderful. But, today we did something that was so out of the ordinary, so straight out un-Nancy like that it compelled me to write. We watched a segment this morning of “Let’s Make A Deal”.

And I was right. It’s been strangely wonderful. But, today we did something that was so out of the ordinary, so straight out un-Nancy like that it compelled me to write. We watched a segment this morning of “Let’s Make A Deal”.

Let’s get right to it. The contestant, a preschool owner in her late 30s, early 40s, wore a bright magenta wig and a flowery dress and was – as apparently required – overzealous. I mean she was bouncing around like a bad version of Tina Turner. I didn’t catch her name, but I’ll call her Rita.

With Nancy watching from the Ruth couch and me on the chair near the tube, the host, my boy Wayne Brady—who I’ve never heard of—offered Rita a gigantic peanut butter cup. Not Reese’s. Nevertheless, inside this pie-sized peanut butter cup was money. An undisclosed amount, of course.

Rita could have this or what’s behind the curtain. Or wait, a third choice, what was on a cart. Hmm. I yelled for Rita “Take the peanut butter cup!” This seemed a win win. Even if there’s was only 10 bucks, you get a huge PBC. Nancy, new at this, was urging Rita to take the curtain. Rita quickly passed on the cart, which had $1,000 worth of, I don’t know, some shit I forgot.

Then Rita did the unthinkable, She passed on the huge peanut butter cup. At this point, my respect for Rita dwindled to nothing. Host Wayne then tossed a curve. He offered her another curtain.

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“What’s behind that curtain?” Nancy asked me. That right there shows you what she knows about this program . I know the basics of the show, having watched it during in the Johnson administration with the legendary Monty Hall as the host.

“That’s the whole point, Rita don’t know. Hasn’t a clue.’ Rita passed. The curtain was revealed and it was a 4-day trip to Mexico where she could’ve been shot or at least kidnapped. Rita wasn’t a total moron, unlike someone we know.

The curtain she picked was unveiled. A chrome washer/dryer set.

Nancy was disappointed And bored. So was I and we moved on.

Judge Judy in the house! A man had traded a rifle for some auto body work. The body work wasn’t done properly and he wanted his gun, a Winchester 30/30, back.

That’s how San Quarantine can be. I flipped and we settled on Gov. Newsom and Los Angeles County Health Director Barbara Ferrer. two stalwarts during The Insanity.

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And made a hamburger. With Nancy’s Blend.

Michael Krikorian
Krikorian Writes

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