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May 26, 2005
Not For the Season(ing Salt)
The month of May is almost over, the seasons are changing once again, and in the land of the free (checking) and the home of the (Atlanta) brave(s), this can only mean one thing...slip'n slide. Well okay, maybe three things. To avoid any unitentional confusion I'll use a seemingly complex but admittedly simple numbering system:
1) The slip'n slide
2) Barbecued ribs
3) Embarrassing family mishaps
The slip'n slide is obvious. Anytime you combine warmer weather, a long weekend and a twelve pack of your favorite domestic longnecks, you better be prepared to hurl your body onto a yellow strip of plastic that's been lubricated with dish detergent and hose water. Secondly, don't be surprised if the ground below said plastic contains protruding roots, rocks the size of your knee caps, rusty nails or cacti. My suggestion is to find a strip of grass that's not infested with fire ants or littered with dog feces...set up shop right there, it will make the whole experience slightly less awkward. Not to skip ahead to number three too quickly, but often times the embarrassing family mishaps occur right here. How many times does Grandma's bikini top have to wind up around her waist, or Uncle Ken's swim trunks catch on his ankles, before these people (these family members) realize that they are making the decision for future generations not to reproduce all the easier.
The barbecue might be the only saving grace for the end of May. I'm not necessarily the biggest proponent of ribs...it's very laborious (to me they're akin to the chicken wing - quick sidenote, who thought calling them buffalo wings was a good idea?), and for what...some fatty meat that has been rubbed, rolled, dunked and dashed with seasoning salt and something called Dale's Sauce (thank you Dale for being so self-absorbed). Before you rib fanatics start lobbing charcoal briquettes in my direction let me confess that I have eaten some delicious ribs before. Perfectly seasoned, meat falls right off the bone, tender juicy ribs...but those, I'm afraid, are the exception rather than the (ja)rule. I had a roommate in college once who loved McRib sandwiches, something I could never understand or stomach (he also wore a Mossimo hat, if that tells you anything about his judgement). However, bring on the barbecued chicken breasts, the plates of pulled pork, and beef brisket by the bowlful...that's what I most enjoy, just make sure you wait at least an hour before getting on that slip'n slide.
Candy left over from halloween / the unified theory of everything / love left over from lover's leaving / books we all know they're not worth reading / it's not for the season
| By micah | 6:45 AM