Grilled Cheese Sandwich

You are wonderful.

Velvety golden and calcium rich, I'm not sure who melts more..you or I. Nestled between two buttery pieces of spatula smushed bread, you are the ultimate lazy and satisfying hot sandwich. Everyone wants to be near you. The potato chips. The tomato soup. The crispy pickle spear. It is you grilled cheese that steals the show.

There are many ways to make a grilled cheese sandwich. It is a customizable comfort food of delicious proportions. American, Cheddar, Jack (Swiss is more of a complimentary cheese - serves you right for being neutral), all are fine. Butter the bread or not. It's up to you. Fluffy or flattened. Cut in half or diagonal. Coupled with bacon, tomato, turkey, ham, or any other veg or formerly alive meat, the grilled cheese is a satisfying piece of gooey business.

I have many fond memories constructing and devouring grilled cheese sandwiches. I mourn the loss of The New York Milkshake Company formerly of St. Mark's Place, which had the most wonderful pressed grilled cheese sandwiches. They were a bit pricey but of a pretty decent size. My favorite was the cheddar & jack with bacon partnered with a strawberry shake. Weak knees.



Everyone likes their grilled cheese sandwich differently. Of course, we always think the way we make it is the best. When preparing a grilled cheese in the presence of others, you are guaranteed many opinions and insights, not that you will listen to any of them.

"You need white bread."
"Butter is better than margarine"
"The tomato should go between the slices of cheese."

We've heard them all and ignored them all. And that is what is so cool about a grilled cheese, it's good every way you make them. Except one.

It happened in my kitchen. I was getting something to drink when I saw something in the toaster. Hmmm? Slowly approaching, I make my way over to the transparent toaster window. My eyebrows went up. Eyes went cross. Mouth speechless and ajar. In my head a booming voice, "What the hell is this?"

As I am staring the basement door opens and out comes my father's secretary who along with her small son had come over to pick up some work she would be completing at home. She makes her way over to the toaster and inquires to her child, "Ready for your grilled cheese?"

GASP!

This is not a grilled cheese sandwich. It is one piece of bread with a piece of cheese melting over the buttered side of the bread. It was awful and plastic looking and was nor grilled or a sandwich. It was a baked blob of cheesy rubber. While I stood agape, she removed the monstrosity from the toaster oven and proceeded to knife the crust off. Yeah, that'll make it much better. She then brought it over to her child, proud of her creation, and placed it before him. He would eat it. He's a child and he's hungry, and damn it, he didn't know any better. I felt sorry for that child. He actually thought that he was eating a grilled cheese sandwich. All I saw was meal abuse. Mom, guilty on all charges.

That child is probably a teenager now. I hope he knows better. I hope he finds it in his heart to forgive his mother.

The grilled cheese sandwich is a wonderful thing. It is tasty, and filling, and fun. It's not just a sandwich, it's an experience. It is love. You see, you haven't been loved until someone has made a grilled cheese sandwich for you. A grilled cheese says everything. It's love, it's friendship, it's caring, it's a little slice of them, shared with you.

So the next time someone makes you a grilled cheese, kiss them. That is someone who cares because they have just given you something wonderful.

And if they give you a baked cheese blob, it's probably over.

*UPDATE* Much to my surprise and excitement, The New York Milkshake Company has returned. I'm only two years late discovering this. Yes, it is alive and well but at a much different location. Very exciting news. A trip must be made.

Man on a Wall

For centuries, masculinity has been measured a plethora of ways. One constant is the pursuit and capture of the beast. You hunt it, you capture it, and you use it for sustenance.

Then you hang it on the wall.

That 38 point buck hanging on the wall says everything about your man-skills without even opening it's petrified mouth. We ain't talking about no Country Bear Jamboree here!

Since many of us are running low on bison jerky, man has searched for a new way to advertise just how damn awesome he is. For the urban male, zooicide is no longer an option and dragging one's mate buy the hair is severely frowned upon anywhere corn isn't the major field crop. Chest hair is a statement, as is a motorcycle, but how did that work out that guy in the Village People? You could grill meat every time someone came over your house, but....you know what? That could work, but it's just too much of an effort. What we need is something that makes a statement. We need something that stares you right in the face and says, "Are you ready for some football!?"

The year was 1998 and for $8,000.00 a man could once again assert his dominance over others. Men became men again when the first flat screen TV was mounted to a living room wall.

Not since the long curvy fence in China, did a wall garner more attention and respect. Hung in the most prominent place in the home, the flat screen TV pulls people in, inspires jealousy, and increases your popularity by infinite proportions. People will call you just to sit in your house. YOUR testosterone fueled house. People will come over and watch nature documentaries and admire you more than the African Lion. You ARE Shark Week.

People will come over to consume the charred carcasses of weaker species and watch 300lb. behemoths crash into each other. They will cringe at every bone-jarring collision, and shout ,"Man Up!" when the crimson ribbons of battle trickle down the combatants brow. And you will be the man.

With this glorious invention, your won't be able to tell if Nic Cage is as badass as this kid. They both have the same amount of actual hair.

The flat screen TV makes you official. So you work as a dynamite blaster, bought a house with a fire pit as big as a VW bug, married a cheerleader, and regularly drink out of those helmets that fit two beer cans in them. Still not certified man. When you put a TV on a wall, you my dude are Clint freakin' Eastwood.

A dark day will soon come. One of your friends will buy the newest and latest. Your living room will become a wasteland of solitude (unless you are roasting a whole pig). Friends will abandon you, calling the new big shot and congratulating him like he delivered his own child and cut the umbilical cord with his own teeth. Pretty soon you'll be sitting on your couch watching Saved By the Bell re-runs, wondering where it all went wrong. You'll say, "Honey, I think there's something wrong with the TV. Maybe we need a new one." The intentional silence will be deafening. You will be the loneliest man in the world.

"Everything can be taken from a man but ...the last of the human freedoms - to choose
one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way."
- Viktor E. Frankl

Part of being a man is admitting that you don't need anything to tell what you are. Things are fleeting. Remember when Jim Soandso bought that Quad. And then broke his face. Now he looks like a flounder. Tim's lazerdisc collection sure was cutting edge. Don't know how I ever lived without one of these.

A job beats down on you, taking away your vitality. The stresses of the world envelop and choke you until your left looking up at the ceiling wondering what happened. We buy these fancy toys to buttress our flagging spirits, to distract us from the world, and to validate our hard work. They make us happy and they eschew in us a simple pride. Nothing wrong with feeling good. It's important to remember that stuff is only stuff, no matter how new or cool it is.

No one would have come over your house to watch your TV if you were a jerk. They are there because you are a friend, someone who is living in the same high-stress, oft-thankless world as they are. They are there because you picked them up off the floor when they were drunk and got themback to the dorm. They are there because you gave a great toast at their wedding. They are there because you helped them move into their first houses. They are there because despite what you have on your wall, you were already the man.

Hidden

A liar's solace lays in silence
Hidden habits steeped in shyness
Embarrassed by things that aren't major
Leads to subvert slick behavior
Favor pushing things aside
Blind to truth or questioned pride
So protected from one's self
So apart from someone else
Repent for all the false agendas
Nothing ventured by pretenders
Being yourself will set you free
Opened up for others to see
Judged by those who too have vices
Opens us up to human devices
Honesty should be the place to start
Wary is a heavy heart
Tension turns to moral scars
Imprisoned behind self imposed bars
So exhale, get up, leave lies behind
Can't press rewind but we gotta try

I Compel You

Where did I grab you?

You see, you've got to care. You have to have the impulse. Do you feel?

I was watching the finals of "Next Food Network Star" yesterday. During the finale, they aired pitches shows by each of the two final contestants in which a pilot demo was filmed. The male finalist did a show based on spices, in that he finds obscure spices from around the world and shows you how to incorporate them into recipe. The female finalist, who went on to win, used the busy mom who must prepare good food quick and easy route. In actuality, I enjoyed the guy's concept better, as I have never heard of a show like this. The woman's show did not seem unique. In fact she was even compared to Rachel Ray buy the judges.

Watching this show made me think about angles and what draws people to you. For me, the guy was better because he was teaching. He was introducing something I did not know about in a new way. That drew me in. As for the woman, while not original, she has the camaraderie factor going for her. She didn't draw me in because I am not a parent. I do not have to cook for a family. Her show is very mom-centric and I'm not a mom. It doesn't mean her idea is wrong, it just means I'm not investing.

This brings me to us. Every aspect of our lives is a hook. How do we draw our wives, husbands, boyfriends, or girlfriends in? When interviewing for a job, what is that connective inside that makes a potential employer your new boss? At family parties, why do you always make the pie?

You have to have something that is missing. If it's not missing, no one is going to care about it. Even better, make someone realize that the weren't even thinking about what was missing, but that you've got it and now they can't live, work, or play without it. I want you to want me.

Easier said than done. Sometimes you are not sure what it is that separates you. You may feel completely status quo. That just won't do. You have to be the need. The next step is to find where your need is supposed to be. There is no sense in being needed if you do not want to be needed by the needers. Follow me?

There has to be a symbioses. In order for anything to work, there has to be a mutual desire. Both parties have to feel fulfilled. It is an elusive synergy to be sure, but it is out there. I do not relish sounding so preachy or fancy myself a life coach, and I am aware that this may read in that vein, but it is the truth. It is emotional and actual commodity. Supply and demand will draw your market.

So what do you got that makes you so darn interesting? Someone is waiting out there for it.

The First Follicles

Much news has been made of Bill Clinton's successful trip to North Korea and the release of Laura Ling and Euna Lee. There is much to this story that is still very unclear and it is sure to develop in the days ahead. To gain perspective on how this envoy procedure works, Arizona Governor and former envoy himself, Bill Richardson, was interviewed to enlighten us.

Enlighten me he did. Not regarding any of vagaries of the release of the two journalists from a military work camp. Nor speculation of possible topics discussed by Bubba and KJI. As I watched Governor Richardson wax political, I thought about his unsuccessful run for the presidency this past election. Something was very different. Sure he has some tax problems, but what potential Obama cabinet members don't. That wasn't it. Something was nagging me and I couldn't figure it out. And then it hit me: Awesome Beard Action!

Let's have a quick visual exercise.


Aside from the headlock, which I really have no problem with, I don't trust this guy.


Now this guy means business. This guy looks like someone that will get it done.

I can't help but think that if Gov. Richardson had rocked the beard, he may have fared much better in the primaries. Just a gut feeling.

As with many a man's theories, there are flaws to be found. Do you realize we Americans have not elected a face follicle fearless leader in a century. That's right. 100 years! That would be William Howard Taft. Since then we're run through seventeen baby faces. Seventeen uninspired opportunities to impose our manly might on the world.

You say a bearded man looks insincere? Tell that to "Honest" Abe Lincoln. Maybe you think mustachioed men are sleazy. I challenge you to say that to Teddy Roosevelt's face. Oh snap, that's half of Mount Rushmore!

It is strange how big of a shift has occurred. Starting with Lincoln and ending ten Presidents later with Taft, only Presidents Andrew Johnson (and it looks like he didn't even bother to shave for his official Presidential portrait) and William McKinley (who's facial hair could have potentially frightened Leon Frank Czolgosz out of the assassination attempt) everyone sported 'staches and beards. This included two awesome longhairs by Rutherford B. Hayes and James A. Garfield.

Since Woodrow Wilson became the Chief Executive, every whisker has been whisked away. Not even the Depression and a couple of World Wars could stop our leaders from lathering up. Why? I don't know. I suppose with the dawn of television, a clean cut man comes off as more wholesome and Americana. After all, all of our enemies, all the terrorists they have beards right?

If you haven't noticed, times are tough. We don't need smooth, we need strong. Enough of this hold your hand buddy buddy banter. Beards are bold. (Except the ironic hipster beard). Hockey players have beards! We need to go beard for beard with out enemies. The Beard can not be monopolized by the evil. We need to put on our hairy game faces and not back down.

You think our President is cool because he does the fist bump? Nixon was bumpin' fists with Zhou Enlai almost 40 years ago.


We've become too sanitized a people. It's time to get gritty.


Grow a beard you wimps!