Monday, October 6, 2008

Over The Hill, Into The Woods And By The Lake

Camping. It's what's for dinner. And the theme for this camping trip is Bacon since, unfortunately The Ranger was unsuccessful...Uhum...with hook and line. Not that there's anything wrong with that, honey. It NO WAY reflects on your manhood. Absolutely not. Don't give it a second thought.



For breakfast, a scramble of eggs, shallots, bacon, mushrooms and spinach. For lunch: turkey, swiss, advocado, arugula, bacon and a basil aioli. For dinner: pork chops and collard greens stewed with bacon. Yup, I can hear Second Edition's cardiologist rolling his eyes as he scrapes mayo off his hospital cafeteria sandwich.

Something to be said for four days of Bacon without television, music, wi-fi, and cell phone. Who knew silence could be so loud, so pervasive, so bone-rattling. Until, of course, you succumb to the rhythms that you've ignored by way of responsible-adulthood, a more natural tick that tells you when to eat, when to sleep and when to open a bottle of wine. Without a clock dictating. Not that we ever wait till 5 p.m. to pull out the corkscrew, but still...

And yes, we actually sat across from one another and enjoyed breakfast together, something we haven't done in months, what with all this Ranger By Night/Yoga Teacher By Day business. And we talked. About important topics. Hear...let's listen in.

Me: Amazing how well Cheladas go with omlettes, isn't it?
Ranger: I have to admit, I always thought the idea of beer and tomato juice was disgusting, but yeah, this works.
Me: Con sal y limon
Ranger: Did Mexicans invent this drink?
Me: Absolutely. My dad used to call it the "breakfast of champions."
Ranger: Ah, where would we be without Mexicans?
Me: No salsa. Or Tecates.
Ranger: No clean hotel rooms.
Me: No enchiladas or tamales.
Ranger: No shucked oysters. OR crab cakes.
Me: No latin rhythm.
Ranger: No busboys.
Me: No Jennifer Lopez.
Ranger: She's Puerto Rican.
Me: That's not her fault.
Ranger: Maybe you mean no round asses.
Me: My ass isn't round.
Ranger: True that. Yours is pointy. In fact, you should put cork on it to protect others from getting poked in a crowd.
Me: Your ass is round.
Ranger: Does that make me Mexican?
Me: I don't know. How do you feel about revenge? Any historical grudges you want to share? Does your heart race when someone says "remember the Alamo?"
Ranger: The Alamo? Was that a hockey team?
Me: Go Penguins!

That's right, people. This is my way of saying, IT'S THE OPENING OF HOCKEY SEASON!

1 comment:

Mich said...

The Algonquin Round Table lives in Oregon.