Eons ago, I’ve seen my readers Avatars I’m sure it was from before they were born, there was this strange little fellow who did guest appearances on variety shows. Okay, let me explain that concept. Variety shows were a combination of – well, variety. No, everyone has talent singing show, but just one or two acts singing. A comedy sketch was done and, what became, stand-up comedy. Sometimes they did sketches, which were micro-mini stories, told in a humorous way in less than five minutes. It’s the only time I have ever really liked short stories.
Anyway, there was this guy who came out on stage, all by himself, brave man, and would recite a poem he had written. He would do an Ode to ____, anything.
Now that you have had your television history lesson, I will move on to the electric skillet. Also, eons ago, I think for my first wedding, we got an electric skillet. This was a honker of an electric skillet, solid steel, weight a ton and held four inches or more of grease. It was great for everything. You could pretty much do without the stove top with this thing. I fried pork chops and steak and shit on a shingle. Ah, make that meat, in gravy on bread (if I remember right). It looked rather like this:
One day I discovered I could make homemade donuts. Dunkin had nothing on me. Actually, I don’t think Dunkin even existed at this time. My girls were pre-school and I did my part to add to the clogging going on now in their arteries by frying donuts every morning for one year. I know this because I remember the house we were renting.
It was a little house on the back of the property and the landlord lived in the front house and used to come through my house when I was gone. We had two bedrooms but I refused to use the back bedroom because the furnace was in the hall on the way to the bedroom and the fear of life that runs in my family, would not allow me to trust that it wouldn’t blow up one day and we would not be able to get out or to get to our daughters if they were in it. I guess they slept in a crib and bassinet in our bedroom, as the youngest was still doing her projectile vomiting then. Life has never suited her.
Oh, that’s good. I only perpetuated to the clog in the oldest daughters artery, but I made some radically good French Crullers in the day and we ate them as we watched Sesame Street. It was new. It was good. So were the crullers.
I think my no-oil Vegan diet is making me light headed. I just took a hunk of cheese, a DEFINITE NO on my diet, popped it in the microwave for 5 seconds and ate it. The two things I miss the most are melted cheese and butter. There is no substitute for butter.
I don’t know what happened to that electric skillet. I mentioned it to my mother the other day, who makes it her business to know who has what in the family and where everything went. Of course she cannot remember anything that happened last week, but that is for another day. So, mother says that she has an electric skillet and she would be happy to get it out of her cabinet as she has no room in her senior galley kitchen. I pull it out and it’s like a toy electric skillet. I could only cook one crueler at a time in it. Why do they even make something like that?
I will spare you all and not make a real ode, a rhyming ode, for the skillet. It would be too painful to read.