Thanksgiving Throwback: Battle For The Biscuit

 

For as far back as I can remember, Thanksgiving has been my favorite holiday. No cards, no gifts, just say “grace” and begin the gluttony.

While my mother would awake at some absurdly early hour to prepare a feast that would make a pilgrim weep with gratitude, my two brothers and I were interested in only one thing. The biscuits.

When loading our plates with food, we each left ample room for the flaky golden delicacies, begrudgingly adhering to the one-at-a-time rule my parents had established after the “Biscuit Blitzkrieg of ’81.” On that infamous Thanksgiving Day, 90 percent of the biscuits landed in two of the five mouths at the table, and the battle for the last biscuit was fierce and vindictive.

I can still hear my mother say, “There, now neither of you gets it,” as she extracted it from the combined clutches of my brother Bob and I and devoured it in two lusty, unladylike bites.

Today, I still covet the biscuits at Thanksgiving dinner. Especially the last one. In fact, I’ve been known to fight for it. So, to my tablemates present and future, the question I must ask you is this:

“Are you going to step away from the bread basket,
or are we going to have a problem here?”

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. And just to show that there’s no hard feelings, please help yourself to my share of the candied yams.

 

Off The Top Of My Head

It’s time to clean out my mental closet and clear away a bottleneck of notions, reflections and ramblings.

• To the inventor of the sandwich, British statesman John Montagu, I say: Thank you Earl of Sandwich for following your impulse to stick your beloved meat between two slices of bread. You changed lunch. You changed the world. 

• At my high school reunion, a perky blonde girl was now a chunky bald man. The years can be cruel.

• We now have one of those single-cup coffee systems at the office that brews over 250 different beverages. Early Favorites: Lady Gag Gag Latte and Gas Station Goo.

 

• Wisdom From The Word Guy: Watch your tone: While imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, if you keep repeating everything someone just said using a high-pitched, cartoonish voice, your flattery may get you punched in the face.

• Tried to watch some of the World Series last October but found myself lured away by ANYTHING ON ANY OTHER CHANNEL.

• When I was 17 I was attacked by a wolf. I can still see his snarling face and smell the stench of wild rabbit on his breath. I cried "Wolf! Wolf!" but no one came because of my reputation for joking around. It was a lesson learned the hard way.

• I had that dream again where I'm living in a Winnebago outside of Forest City, Iowa with a small battery-powered TV and a collection of cologne bottles.

• How's everyone doing ... good? How 'bout this weather we've been having? Did you lose some weight? Any plans for the weekend? (Just sharing my gift for small talk. I'm here all week. Thanks for coming.)

• Part II of my series, "Living With Ambiguity," may or may not air tonight on PBS, ABC or some other network with letters in it.

• When the library security guard informed me I couldn't eat in there, I said "Even tunafish?" The question made no sense of course, but in some strange way it gave me the momentary dignity of being the victim of an unjust system.

• The Beatles. They had that one hit - Norwegian Wood - and that was it. So sad these one-song-and-gone bands.

• You know your exploration of wine has reached an advanced stage when you find yourself in a store holding a bottle with a familiar label and thinking "I know I’ve had this one before, but did I love it or hate it?"

• Someone grumbled that they do their best proofreading after they hit send.  That sure hits homme with me.

• Photo Faux Pas: When someone’s taking a picture and you’re on the far end of a group shot, ignore the fear that you’ll be cut out of the photo and refrain from doing an exaggerated lean-in. If you get partially cut out, the photographer will be the one at fault. If you lean in too far and ruin the photo, you’ll forever be the bozo who blocked out Aunt Adeline on her 100^th birthday. So relax, smile, and don’t block out Aunt Adeline.

 

• Actual catalog ad I read about a manual typewriter: "Devoid of technological crutches such as spell-check and deletion, The Wordsmith Manual Typewriter encourages the patient, considered sentiment of a wordsmith who thinks before writing." Perfect. Now I can slow things down and clickety-clack my way to a thoughtful 75 words of stunning insight. If the whiteout holds up I should be done by next month.

• My rejected name for the royal baby: Prince Ethan Alan William "Wally" Worchestershire. (I still think it was the right choice.)

• Apology to Joe Blow: While talking about possibly buying a new car, I said this to my wife - "I don't want to pay what Joe Blow pays." That was unfair. You didn't deserve that, Joe Blow, and I regret making the remark. Please accept my sincere apology. And by the way, if you don't mind me asking, what did you pay for your new Camaro?

• I feel blessed to live at a time in human history when multigrain baguettes are readily available and a man need not feel self-conscious to say the words "multigrain baguettes."

• You ever notice that when you need about 20 seconds to accomplish some small task in your car you never hit a red light, but when you have absolutely nothing to do in your car you hit every red light and they all seem to last about 5 minutes?

• My new line of rainwear is out. "AlWilly WetRobe" is a fashion-forward two-ply polypropylene poncho that keeps your clothes dry and your style slick. Available at Big Lots and finer Space For Lease stores.

• Gotcha, For Dummies book series! The title of your latest edition, Bankruptcy For Dummies, makes the usual attempt at ridicule, but the joke's on you. The fact that I know nothing about bankruptcy is because I'm financially stable, which makes me pretty smart. Who's a dummy now, For Dummies dimwits? In your face!

• While reading an article about the U.S. Ice Fishing Federation I ran across the phrase "fish officials." Maybe it's because I'm a word guy, but the inadvertent wackiness of that phrase gave me a cheap thrill I'll savor for days. (No disrespect to fish officials intended.)

• I strained my back yesterday running slowly over a mildly sloping speed bump. On the bright side, my tailpipe was not damaged in the incident.

• Wisdom From The Word Guy: Using a foreign accent when you're visiting a country where you don't speak the language will not aid your communications efforts. You may even get thrown in jail for being a public nuisance where you'll wait approximately four months to speak to an attorney. Happy travels!