Tasting the Corn

A big thank you to Mrs. Earle for answering my request for Stephen King books. She was generous enough to loan me a couple to read and in the process, I met a really nice person. We spent some length of time conversing about so many things; bridge, Maine, Mr. King. I also met her neighbor and friend who was just as nice and, as it turned out, was from my hometown. She, however, had much fonder memories of the place than I. It was one of the most enjoyable afternoons I have spent in quite a while.
Springing forward a little early this year seems to have panicked quite a few people. After all the urgent emails telling me to download programs to make sure my computer clock knew the change, it turned out that the brain in my computer knew all about it without my help. The VCR’s were not as up to speed but that was a simple fix. Other things were not so easily fixed across the area and nation. Traffic lights had to be reprogrammed, as did many other electronic wonders, leaving me to question if this really did save money? Far be it from me to question those brilliant minds in our nation’s capital. After all, they are the ones who cannot figure out how to stop illegal immigration, find Bin Laden, or keep this country safe without riding rough shod over our rights. They must know what they are doing as no one else seems to question their tactics or their wisdom and seemingly, everyone is going about their apathetic lives as long as it does not involve them. I see this almost everyday as I am an avid reader of the Rants and Raves section of the Chronicle. I read it for the laughs. The misspelled words, the incorrect grammar, yep, here I go again, and the mindless things people pick to complain about all the while hiding behind an email address or code name. No one wants to speak out publicly any more. Everyone wants to have things change as long as they do not have to do anything real to make that change happen. Apathy is alive and well.
And speaking of mindless things to complain about. Bill Adams and I are on the same page when it concerns these new newspapers that end up in our yards or driveways. I’m tired of it, as so it seems, are my neighbors. I’ve noticed a nice little pile beginning to form in the gutters of our streets. When mine arrived on Wednesday they were added to the pile. I have been picking them up and depositing them in the trash but I reason that I did not request them, nor do I want them so why should I be responsible for cleaning up someone else’s mess? As for our citizens who would like them put into their mailboxes it cannot be done unless those doing it wish to break a Federal Law. When you pay for a subscription that comes by mail, that is one thing but if a paper is delivered door to door, it goes either in a paper mailbox or in the yard. No one but the United Postal Employees are supposed to access a mailbox including those restaurant employees that ride the neighborhood dispersing flyers. Speaking of Postal Employees I feel I must defend those people at our post office. With the exception of one person employed there, everyone has been helpful, kind, considerate and efficient. With the exception of that one, they all smile. I find that usually when one is treated badly in a place of business it is because you get what you send.
My friend Marianne was given tickets to a reception in Savannah for Paula Deen. Marianne likes Paula, as do many others, however I have yet to figure out why. When she told me she had the tickets I was afraid she was going to ask me to go with her knowing how much I love to cook. Whew, was I relieved when she did not. She had fun; had her picture taken with Paula, received a free autographed copy of a cook book, tasted food and wine and mingled with other like minded folks who made the trip to see the “chef”, and I use that term loosely, at work. I cannot condemn people for their likes or dislikes nor can they condemn me for mine. The only recipe of hers that turns out consistently time after time is her peach cobbler and that is probably because it contains no mayonnaise, cream cheese or sour cream. Maybe it is a Southern tradition to slather corn in mayo, butter and seasonings; far be it from be to question tradition. Me? I’d much rather taste the corn.