So I was thinking about all the weirdos I know…
You know. The ones you love even if they save money by wearing their socks until all ten toes are exposed. The ones who won’t dance until they’re hugging/kissing drunk and then do so with total abandon. The ones who will only eat cheese if it’s melted because “that’s the only way kind of cheese I like”.
I used to work with a woman who ate the same thing, every day for lunch: boiled kale and a chicken breast. I watched her eat this every single day for a year. A magazine had said it would be good for her health.
I only worked there for a year. Her lunch had nothing to do with my leaving.
And lest I leave you feeling the need to come to the defense of weirdos everywhere, I’ll let you know that “weirdo”, in my family, is a term of endearment.
You know. Like “Stinky” and “Poop Pants”.
“Weirdo”’s not bad. It’s different. It’s strange. But it’s not bad. Hell, I’ve been known to be a little weird myself.
That’s hard to believe, isn’t it?
But this isn’t about me, people. This is about the weirdo at the forefront of my brain today…
We’ll call him Merle. I kinda miss Merle – he’s discovered love a little later and with a little more ferocity than the rest of us. This has caused him to fall off the face of the Earth. Friends? Nah, he don’t need no steenking friends!
Merle was a weirdo of the first water, a man who would punish my self-indulgences in quiet, elegant ways, such as putting in The Wall and forcing me to watch it by tying my shoes to the chair. (Note: I do love Pink Floyd, but The Wall makes me despair and I just can’t bear it.)
One of the last conversations I had with Merle was regarding a recipe he had submitted to his work place newsletter.
Here it is, in its entirety: the recipe for “Gruel”. Feel free to use it.
Take as much hamburger as you can afford.
Fry in large pan with onion.
Stir in Cream of Mushroom soup, a can of corn, and all the cheese you have.
When it looks ready to eat, do so directly from the pan with a large wooden spoon. If you do not have a large wooden spoon and no access to other wooden implements, you may use a loaf of bread as a substitute, but it won’t taste the same.
Good eatin’, huh? Nothing weird about that!
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