Bon Vivant…Not

I’ve never been a gourmet cook, perhaps because of my upbringing.  Both of my grandmothers were simple, country girls who prepared simple, country meals.  Each had their strengths.  My maternal, Tennessee, grandmother’s fried chicken and green beans were delicious.  My paternal grandmother’s homemade cinnamon rolls,  blueberry muffins, and fruit pies were spectacular.  Beef, pork, or chicken with various potato dishes were my staple.  On rare occasions, fish was served.  My mom never mastered the art of anything that tasted like spaghetti sauce, but to this day, her banana cakes light up my palate!

As a mom, I tried to introduce my kids to different foods.  As toddlers, they abhorred baby food carrots and peas.  Who wouldn’t?  For years, my youngest ate only chicken fingers or a hot dog smothered with ketchup.  The thought of ingesting a piece of lettuce, a slice of tomato, or a green bean gagged her.  In contrast, my eldest was more daring.  She loved spaghetti, stuffed peppers, prime rib, and baked potatoes and sour cream.  Today, she’s a sushi addict.

However, when we’re together and want to venture out for dinner, we frequent Mexican or Chinese restaurants.  I accepted long ago I’d never be able to duplicate their culinary expertise.  When we’re in NYC, we eat cheese cake.  Yes, we have compiled a list of best to so-so.)

Admittedly, I’ve never prepared veal, lamb, elk, javelins, deer, nor pheasant.  Further my thought of preparing brains, liver, or mountain oysters gags me.  So you can imagine my reaction to a high-end magazine’s feature story: Welcome to the New World of Eating Insects.

Dragonflies, ants, grasshoppers, cicada, water bugs, and…freaking scorpions and tarantulas!  According to one source, “over 2 billion people regularly rely on one of the 1,900 edible species of insects as a source of protein.”  Cricket-flour chips are the new rage. Frankly, I can’t think of anything more revolting than a fly whose just sat on one of my dogs’ poop ending up in a casserole.

And to those of you who’ve been invited to my dinner party next week, the evite read: BYOB.  I’m well-stocked with booze.  Bring Your Own Bugs!

November Moth (Epirrita dilutata)

November Moth (Epirrita dilutata)

How to Catch Flies

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Over three years ago, I began to blog with the intent of publishing a book of the most humorous ones.  My plan began to unravel this past summer; my mood changed.  I found myself engulfed in a humorless world filled with we vs. they. Even though, I’ve experienced the darkest side of life over the past six years, I was ill-prepared for the diabolical firestorm currently overtaking America.  My humor was suppressed–buried.

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Admittedly, I didn’t get much sense until about 40 or so years ago.  I paid attention to the debacle of the Viet Nam War, Nixon freezing my $6,000 teacher’s salary for two years, and Watergate.  Certainly, I found no humor in these events, but I managed.  When the Twin Towers fell, I was outraged.  Several nights following, I was in a crowded Mexican restaurant.  th-3

The waiter had just brought our dinners, when a mariachi band appeared on the balcony above and played God Bless America.  Every patron dropped their utensils, rose and sang in unison.  Tears ran down my cheeks as I sang; yet I wasn’t overtly sad.  The American patriotic spirit didn’t die in New York City; I had hope.

When the presidential election campaigns kicked into high gear this summer, so did the we vs. they mantra.  Civility and decorum vanished.  Extremism was rampant. Suddenly, it became socially acceptable to mock the disabled, use despicable racist terms, and blame the press for inaccurate reporting.  Following the election, the we vs. they went viral.  Somewhat cogent folks jumped on this out-of-control roller coaster and without serious thought and consideration demolished long-standing laws with the stroke of a pen.  A classic example of throwing the proverbial baby out with the bath water–health care, public education, environmental safeguards.  Budgets of long-standing programs, such as the Center for Disease Control, medical research, the arts, and Planned Parenthood were slashed. Further this divisiveness was stoked with “alternative facts,” late night tweeting, erroneous wiretapping claims, and a cloak of darkness on Russian ties.

True, I didn’t get much sense till about 40 years ago, but in those 40 years, I never witnessed the outward hate and derision I see now.  In the past few months, I’ve lost long-time friends–not to death–but to their down-right argumentative, combative attitudes.  Intelligent, reasonable, civil discourse is fine.  Friendly confrontation has its place, but I have no desire to debate with blatant ignorance.

The world has shrunk.  Like it or not, we are all citizens of the same planet.  We must cooperate, communicate, collaborate, and even compromise.  As my grandmother frequently reminded, “You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”  It’s about all of us–not some of us.

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