Everyone has their Holiday traditions. Caroling. Decorating the tree. Going to Costco.
Every year we go to Florida to visit the family during the Holidays. We hit all of the stores to get supplies because Grandpa is there and he is cooking up a storm. So we go to Penn Dutch to get meat and veggies. Now Whole Foods to get condiments and gluten free supplies. And of course Costco to pick up stuff in bulk.
Now of course there is a Costco in Brooklyn but I never go there. It is too far and you need a car. But in Florida we rolled right up. Any you know what the best part of shopping in Costco is. Of course.
The Hot Dogs.
I begged and I pleaded and I got permission to have a hot dog. Man was I happy. I got on line and was able to score a nice dirty greasy hot dog. It was just like Nathans.
I ran right over to the condiment section and loaded up. I had to take my chance to have all the bad stuff in one shot because they watch me like a hawk. Relish. Onions. Deli Mustard. The works!
I managed to gobble it down from the door of Costco to the car. I was one happy dude. A greasy Hot Dog and a Mountain Dew. I felt like a native Floridian.
Merry Christmas to me!
9 comments:
As long as you were splurging, you could have added some Malibu to that Mountain Dew. Tasty redneck goodness.
Who is watching you like a hawk? And why would they be so inclined?
It's been my experience that the body itself will start to rebel when more salt, sugar, gluten and nitrates than it has grown accustomed to receiving are suddenly dumped into the system. I won't go into all the consequences, but they happen, with one of them recently resulting in me trying to drink a 7-up after a "get this stuff outta here" response. Sadly, that drink tasted so sweet, I couldn't finish it. Giving up "traditions", especially food traditions tied to good memories and good times, can be a difficult process. One that takes time, as the canary in the internal mine shaft takes over for the circling hawks.
Did the dog and dew leave you feeling fine? Or was it the condiments on top of the thrill of eating something forbidden that helped mask the weird meat taste, the gummy bun, and the overly sugared drink whose color alone says "Run!!!"? Whatever the case, it's fun to know you're having a good time with the family, away from NY and the stress of work.
It's good to see you looking good. May the year ahead hold health and happiness for you, Lisa, and family.
Thanks Mama M. Same to you and your family.
The answer is that everyone in the family is watching me like a hawk. The wife's dietary restrictions are actually more onerous than mine so I eat the food I cook for her and forgo lots of good stuff that I can eat in moderation. I can have a hot dog every once in a while. Even a glass of wine. My doctor is Italian. From Italy. He knows that the secret is moderation in all things.
I was kidding about the Mountain Dew. That stuff tastes like piss.
It was actually iced tea.
I just wanted it to sound as red neck as possible.
In the South, you don't have to say "iced" in front of tea. That's understood. It's either sweet tea or unsweet tea. Communists, Californians, and the English drink hot tea, none of which are tolerated in the South.
BTW, Happy New Year.
Remember When the Music, Harry Chapin.
Appreciating the song, windbag. It's one I hadn't heard before.
I grew up in a Calvinist based church, hearing and singing a selection of five to seven Psalms and Hymns sung in four part harmony twice every Sunday from infancy to adulthood. To this day, I still know most of the tunes and words by heart. That's a lot of music to be surrounded by and defined by, and I sometimes miss that form of group singing, the sense of surety and belonging that was part of that experience, and the beauty of the harmonies, while knowing the dissonance I experienced within that culture was also real and there is no entering back into that music box.
Harry knew how to pull at the heart strings, as well as make the music sing and speak.
Thanks, MamaM. That song conjures up all sorts of memories. Music is a powerful medium, particularly in a spiritual/religious setting. My mom was an accomplished musician, and my dad was equal as a tenor. Music is a major part of my existence. I always loved Chapin's music. He died a horrific death way too young.
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