(Sorry, BIG.  I just had to write this.  I just had what is perhaps the most
religious expeirence of my life.  Kelleen once, jokingly, wrote about
barbecued ferrets, so maybe this one will squeak by.  I'll try to keep it
short.  Notice the operative word 'try'.)
 
[Moderator's note: It's a pretty light day today, so this post and the
somewhat stranger one that follows are sneaking through :-)  BIG]
 
Many more years ago than I care to remember now, my best friend, John, and I
were stomping around in the woods near our home, looking for snakes.  We
were both fascinated by all critters - between us we had a menagerie that
would have put Zoo Atlanta to shame.  Snakes, however, held a special lure
for us.  We both planned to be Herpetologists when we grew up.  John did so
and is widely respected in the field.  I became an Electrician.  Go figure?
 
On that wonderful summer day, we ventured close to what passed for
concentration camps in Georgia way back then.  Our parents had warned us to
stay away from such places, but we were on a 'mission' - we both wanted more
snakes to study.
 
We entered a small clearing in the woods and encountered two young black
men, hovering over a small fire.  They had made a grill out of hickory twigs
and were cooking some kind of meat over the glowing embers.  Every now and
then, they lovingly dribbled a sauce onto the meat with an old dish mop.
John and I were instantly struck down hungry and quickly devoured a couple
of melted Baby-Ruth bars that I had in my pocket.  We were too embarrassed
and conditioned by our upbringing to ask these two young men if we could
share in their wonderous meal.  We went away with the sticky taste of
chocolate in our throats.  I have never forgotten about this chance
encounter.  What really haunts me is the sure knowledge that these two men
would have surely shared their 'barbecue from heaven' with us if we had only
had the courage to ask them to.
 
I have lived many years since that summer day of my youth - more than I'd
care to admit.  John and I went our seperate ways.  The vision of that
succulent meat, being slowly basted with a dish mop, returns to me every
time I get hungry.  I have dilligently searched, in every barbecue joint I
could find, for a hint of that taste I never did taste.  I've come close a
few times, but I've never quite found what I'm looking for.  I'd given up on
trying to recapture that fond memory of my youth.  Until today.
 
I had an apointment with my Physical Therapist this morning (BTW, definition
of a Physical Therapist: cute little gals who like to inflict pain on dirty
old men.) I don't know what she did this morning but she got my hip to
hurting really bad again.  Anyway, she got me to feeling really sorry for
myself.  I decided to start acting pitiful again and hoping that Mee Maw
would notice the fact.  As I drove home, the memory of that day back in the
'fifties started to fill my wee brain.  "If only I could reacapture that
moment, taste that barbecue of the Gods, I might just feel better."
 
Without thinking about what I was doing, I stopped at the store and bought
the biggest hunk of beef I could afford.  I also bought a big bag of
charcoal and a bunch of hickory chunks.  The check-out lady looked at me
kinda funny when I also bought spices that I had never even heard of - let
alone knew how to pronounce the names of.
 
I came in the front door like a demon on a mission.  Tater was sitting at
the computer, typing a letter to the FML.  Odie was curled up in a corner,
reading a Kitty magazine.  Mee Maw was off seeing a client.  I ignored all
of them.  I rushed onto the patio and started the dangdest fire I have ever
seen in my smoker grill.  Then I went into the kitchen and started mixing up
my secret sauce from all the gunk I had bought.  I had never made the sauce
before but I knew that it was going to be good - I was INSPIRED!
 
When the coals were ready, I added some hickory chunks to them and lovingly
placed the beef-critter on the grill.  I basted him with some sauce,
carefully dripped from a dish mop, and decided to take me a nap.  When I
woke up a few hours later, the most wondermous scent fillled my nostrils.
Mee Maw was standing over me and drooling worse than I usually do.  Tater
and Odie were sitting in the kitchen window and looking at the smoker with
love and respect in their eyes.  Mee Maw handed me her ruined dish mop and
said that she figured the beast could use just a little more sauce.  I
nursed and cherished that beef-critter for a few more hours, all the time
dribbling my 'secret' sauce on it.
 
Well folks, in an effort to keep this shorter than it could be, we just got
done eating the finest barbecue that has ever existed on this planet.  Mee
Maw's sitting back and poking her slim tummy out really cute-like.  She
keeps allowing as to how it was so good that it almost gave her an organism.
Tater and Odie and the cats are still fighting over that big ol' hunk of
outside meat that I gave them.  Reckon who will win that tussle?
 
Me?  Well folks, I'm sitting back right now and feeling mighty proud of
myself.  I finally realized one of my fondest childhood dreams.  I have
made, and tasted, the barbecue from heaven.  In my mind, I'm back to that
day in the early 'fifties.  The only difference is that, this time, John and
I forgot about snakes and other stuff long enough to ask for a taste, to
share a meal with our long-ago brothers.
 
Many much loves,
 
Paw Paw
[Posted in FML issue 1603]