Olfactory Challenge

Tonight I decided to figure out what was stinking around our house. Checked the garage - nothing. Walked around the house - nothing, until I approached the back door. There, lying against the house beneath a boxwood shrub was a badly decomposed animal. Couldn't tell what it was upon cursory examination. It was grossly distended, denuded of fur except for its head and tail and covered with maggots. It was an olfactory challenge of the first order. Gag. No more food stories. I found a large scoop shovel and gingerly removed it from the flower bed. The alternating stripes on the tail suggested it was "old brother coon". I didn't give him a "proper" burial, unless dumping him at the edge of the woods would qualify. Man, it's fun living in the country. Reminded me a little of the Great Outdoors - John Candy, et. al.

Trivia: From Far Side Calendar 2000: Mrs. Fyodor Vassilyev was quite prolific. She had 16 sets of twins, 7 sets of triplets, 4 sets of quadruplets, 69 in all and "none of them write", she laments.

NUTS R'US

I thought I had exhausted my food stories, but was reminded by my son, Chuck, of another one. My brother-in-law, Kenny Marshall was getting married in Mena, Arkansas. My wife and children had left early for Wilhelmina sp? Lodge where they were having the rehearsal dinner. I stayed behind in Batesville to finish my day's work. After work I headed out asap and was making good time. Around Little Rock, however, I began to get hungry. I decided a treat was in store. I pulled into McCain Mall and went straight to Morrow's Nuts. There were so many yummy choices, but I settled on mixed nuts - a LARGE bag at that. Must have been at least a pound. As I was driving out of the parking lot I spotted THE ARCHES and decided a burger, fries and large coke would be a nice "side". Now I was ready. Between Little Rock and Mena I consumed the entire accumulation of foodstuffs! Burger, fries and the large bag of nuts. I was really feeling good! Happy as a pig in the sunshine. But --- that all changed. About the time I got to the lodge, I began feeling bloated and my stomach began growling like crazy (borborygmi). The familiar nausea, sweating and urgency, experienced during other excesses, reared its ugly head. Needless to say, I missed the rehearsal dinner. I was in no condition to be sociable. I was barely able to make the wedding the following day, and I wasn't even the groom!!

FUDGE NO MAS

Don't know if that's even a proper phrase, but No mas was uttered by a middleweight fighter (can't remember the name) when he was unable to answer the bell in a championship fight. Nada mas might be more correct, but that's what he said. I think it means no more, nothing else, etc. Well, the reason I want no more fudge is because I made myself very sick on fudge topping. As you can tell from previous posts, I tend to overdo it when it comes to food. Especially items I like. About 10 years ago I had taken a call from the hospital. While passing through the kitchen on the way back to bed I was struck by an enormous hunger pang. Remedy. Look in the fridge. Not too promising at first, but then I spotted a large bowl of fudge topping. It was a large Pyrex bowl and there was at least 3-4 inches remaining in the bottom. I grabbed a large serving spoon and helped myself. Not bad. I started toward the bedroom, but a strong force of some sort pulled me back to the fridge. This time I got a bowl and filled it about half full. By the time I finished the bowl, I had reached a state of mind that pushed me onward and upward. The feeding frenzy had begun. No muses, no weird sounds or other distractions - just a big bowl of topping begging to be eaten. There was no turning back. I sat down with a spoon and in a matter of minutes devoured the entire bowl!! The rest of the story is more painful to recount. About 30 minutes after I returned to bed, I was awakened by an intense urge to get to the john. At about the same time I began having intense leg cramps. They were so intense that my heels were drawn up to my buttocks. The pain accompanying the cramps caused me to break out in a sweat. So there I was - sweating, cramping, stomach rolling with peristaltic waves and needing to be someplace really bad, and unable to stand because of hamstring spasms. I did the only thing I could - I rolled out of bed onto the floor and CRAWLED to the bathroom. I was there a long time. Why did I do it? "Why can't you do things in moderation?" I wondered, etc. etc. I really did learn my lesson and it is FUDGE NO MAS - FUDGE NO MAS - FUDGE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMASSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

HARD TACK MANIA

Almost done with the food stories. This one gags me when I think on it. Not trying to be gross - just relating a story from days gone by. I was young and stupid at the time. It took place at Arkansas State JC where I was on basketball scholarship. In those days, it was not a totally free ride. During the off season, we worked at odd jobs around campus. On this particular occasion we were cleaning the concession stand as the first game of the season was near at hand. I was given the job of cleaning the popcorn popper. It was a large machine, like the ones in movie theaters. I had cleaned the kettle, windows and "floor" of the popcorn bin. The final thing was to clean a drawer below the bin which contained the unpopped kernels (hardtacks). There must have been an entire season's worth of hardtacks in the bin. It was a mixture of unpopped kernels, partially-popped kernels and some small completely popped pieces which had fallen through the holes in the floor. I will never know what possessed me to sample the hard tacks. In those days I was always hungry, even at the completion of a meal so I "ran on hungry". The first bite wasn't bad, so I tried another, and another and another ... Knowing what I now know, it was insane to do what I did. The kernels, popping oil, etc. had lain there since the last season, incubating all the while. Why I didn't come down with some dreaded disease I will never know.

P.S. Heard a good quote on Writer's Almanac (Garrison Keillor): "The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is the fear of the unknown." Howard Phillip Lovecraft ( 1890-1937)

Ice cream surfeit

For Robert: This story only points up my propensity for overdoing things when it comes to eating. Why can I not learn to eat in moderation? It happened one summer in Calico Rock, Arkansas. I had spent a long day of reading x-rays and was ready for the 50 mile drive home. Since I had an hour's drive before supper/dinner, I decided a snack to tide me over would be appropriate. Accordingly, I stopped at the local dairy bar for an ice cream cone. "Make that a double", I said. Man, it was cold - and good! By the time I reached the outskirts of Mt. View, the cone was only a dim memory. I spotted the Good Old Days (another ice cream place) and decided one more wouldn't matter. "Make that a double", I said. Mt. View is a small town, but I devoured the second cone while driving across town. On the outskirts of town, there is another "dairy bar". Should I, or shouldn't I?? My reasoning, clouded by a rising blood sugar, was no deterrent, so I went for #3. It went down about as fast as the first two. Now I was on an ice cream binge like never before. Like a true "creamaholic" I began wondering where the next dairy bar was located. Fortunately, it was in Locust Grove - about 25 minutes away. I got another double and consumed it before reaching the Batesville city limits. By now I was starting to feel really full. Dreading the lecture I would get upon arriving home, I threw all caution to the wind and hit the Batesville Dairy Queen on the fly. My double at DQ was my last, although I did pass Tommy's King Burger, another burgers and shakes joint, on the final drive home. Needless to say, I was so full of ice cream I was nauseated. Surfeited in the true sense of the word. I don't remember much about my punishment. It was more like, "Why are you not hungry?" And when I told Miss Pat what I had done, she just rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath. Sorry for the lengthy post. Almost out of food stories. cmmjr

EAGLE BRAND MILK

FOR SARAH: My paternal grandmother raised me. We were living in Beebe, Arkansas at the time. One of her most scrumptious pies was lemon icebox. She always kept Eagle Brand condensed milk on hand for the pies. I had a serious case of "sweet tooth" when I was about 9 years old. One day I hit upon a plan. I would punch a hole in the can with an icepick (sounds dangerous as I think back on it) and then suck the sweet nectar until I had my fill. I would then return the can to the pantry. This went on for a few days, but finally, I was "busted". Granny went to the pantry to fetch some EB and found an empty can. At this point I had to fetch a willow switch. You know the rest - corporal punishment was still "in". But now, the rest of the story ... About ten years ago I got to reminiscing on those days and developed an insatiable desire for some EB. My mind was absolutely consumed with the thought of EB milk. I was working in Mt. View, Arkansas, about 35 miles from Batesville. I stopped in a local supermarket, headed straight to the condensed milk section, and picked up a can of EB. I could hardly wait to punch a hole in the can and get on with it!! Since I was finished working for the day, I headed back to Batesville, sucking on the can as I went. It was just as rich and sweet as I had remembered!! But, unlike when I was a child, the sweetness soon became overpowering and I began to get nauseated and diaphoretic. Even tho the AC was "cranked" I was sweating like crazy! My blood sugar was probably off the scale. As I got closer to Batesville, the blood sugar must have dropped. I stopped sweating and the nausea resolved. I don't remember admitting to my wife what I had done, but learned a lesson that day I will not soon forget.

V8/Coffee

Under the category of "You shouldn't admit this": This morning as I was preparing breakfast, I used my coffee cup for V8 juice to down my A.M. meds. (One less glass to wash or load in the dishwasher). Drank about half of it and then went about the rest of breakfast preparations. Came back a little later and without thinking filled the cup with freshly brewed coffee. Allowed the obligatory cooling and then took a swig. Yikes. Knew it had a funny "twang" but it took me a few seconds to realize what I'd done. You got it - old Scottish waste not-want not kicked in. I actually drank the stuff!! And as I refilled it with coffee for a warm-up it diluted the V8 to the point it was not even objectionable. It's tough having grown up under parents and grandparents who lived through the Depression and inculcated in their offspring that waste not-want not mantra.

SHIVER

Julie asked for the SHIVER story. Several years ago we decided on a summer treat at TCBY. We loaded into the van and headed for town. One of the featured items was a new and improved SHIVER. It sounded so appealing on a hot summer evening. I took the orders (no small task - always a lot of confusion and noise) and then pushed the button to place our order. "May I help you", came the friendly voice from inside. "Yes, I'd like yadda, yadda, yadda ... and oh yes, a shiver (I pronounced it shy ver)" "What's that, Sir?" she asked. "A shy ver", I replied. "I don't know what you're saying, Sir". " A SHY VER, and then I spelled it out very slowly and deliberately, as if speaking to someone who didn't speak the language - S-H-I-V-E-R - SHY VER!!!! After a longer than usual pause I was directed to "pull to the first window, Sir." I found out later it is pronounced SHIVER as in trembling on a cold winter day. To her credit the girl at the window was very cordial, and after seeing the customer face to face, probably understood why he couldn't get it right. I would like to have been a fly on the wall after we drove away. No doubt there was uncontrollable laughter. Sometimes we think we're right and the other person is too dense to understand. In this case I was the dunce.

Minty Fresh

Jason. For you. About 20 years ago the McClains attended the wedding of Melanie Lowery in Searcy, Arkansas. The reception was held at the Lowery's beautiful home on Country Club Drive. We knew very few people at the reception and therefore gravitated to a quiet out of the way room and visited among ourselves. I noticed a crystal bowl filled with "mints" and decided to help myself. In typical fashion, I grabbed a handful and threw them down like peanuts. (In polite company I would have nibbled on one mint for about 5 minutes.) The taste was rather strong and pungent, but I decided it was some exotic flavor enjoyed only by the rich and/or initiated. The longer I chewed, the larger the bolus became, so much so that I could barely contain it all. I finally decided that anything tasting that bad/badly? couldn't be good for me and discreetly disposed of it. I later learned: 1.The "mints" were room deodorizers 2. Almost the entire McClain Clan, unbeknownst to each other, had sampled the "mints". Must be in the genes. Look before you leap and check for rocks before you logroll down the hill come to mind. "Things are seldom what they seem. Skim milk masquerades as cream." Gilbert and Sullivan