BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Yep… You would think that considering the books I pen I would eschew getting myself involved in any more mysteries than are absolutely necessary. After all, making them up, plotting them out, and then attaching them to paper through the use of words should be enough for one guy, correct?

But no… Leave it to me to get myself involved in a murder investigation here at home.

So, let me explain the event leading up to this homicide for you:

I was making one of my daily trips to the library (yes, that would be a euphemism- library, can, throne room, crapper… take your pick.) Anyway, there I am, reading through the latest issue of Missouri Conservationist when over the top edge of the magazine I spy something. At first, I thought nothing of it, but that only lasted a second or two. You know how it is – you see something and it doesn’t quite register at first, but then after a heartbeat or so it smacks your right between the eyes… Well, that’s pretty much what happened. So, lowering the magazine, I took a longer look.

Lo and behold, there on the back corner of the bathtub, not quite covered by the shower curtain, are Barbie and Ken. Now, I’m definitely no prude- if you’ve read the Miranda Trilogy, you know that to be true- however, I have to admit that I blushed. You see, Barbie, in all her curvaceous glory, was grappled with the buff eunuch in a “girl-on-top missionary position”. It was obvious that they had been swimming in the bathtub at some point because Babs’ long, flowing, nylon hair showed signs of having dried without the benefit of combing or detangling. Ken, on the other hand, had little problem in that department, what with the helmet hair and all, but I digress. The point is, putting two and two together told me that after some frolicking in the sudsy surf, the two had apparently become amorous and, well, needed to do some business. Perfectly natural. Basic carnal urges and all that… So, all good…

At any rate, as I said, I blushed, then went back to reading about hummingbird feeders while making it a point to finish the article and all my business associated with the reading of said article a bit more quickly than usual. I mean, I seriously doubted that the two love birds really wanted a spectator, know what I mean? (BTW, due to Ken’s general lack of endowment, I didn’t bother to offer any contraception. I suspected it probably wasn’t needed.)

Okay, so now we fast forward to the next day. Here is where the crime scene comes into play…

As expected, I needed to once again visit the library. Just one of those other natural urges. This time I think I was planning to read the local school district newsletter so I would be up on any bond issues, or things I might need to know which would affect my child’s learning. I pretty much figured Babs and Ken would be done by now, so I was feeling pretty safe in selecting one of the longer articles to read. Of course, as we all know, the best laid plans of mice and Murvs, yadda yadda…

Upon entering the library, naturally my eyes were drawn to the porcelain beachfront where the two fashion dolls had been making out. Not because I am a closet voyeur or anything, I just wanted to be certain they were finished so that I could in fact indulge in reading the lengthy article without feeling rushed. What I saw this time was less a scene from a skin flick and more a horrific tableau from a slasher movie (or, one of my books even…)

Ken’s rigid body was laid out in the very same spot where Babs had been…ummm…uhhh…”mounting” him. However, like I said, it was his body. The poor plastic eunuch’s head was sitting several inches away, quite obviously separated from the rest of his buff plasticness, and it was staring dully at the ceiling.

Well… Being a curious author of suspense thrillers that usually involve some type of gory murder, I felt compelled to investigate further. Using the rolled up newsletter to carefully push back the shower curtain (I didn’t want to disturb evidence like fingerprints you see) I proceeded to check out the surroundings.

Much to my surprise, perched on the ledge of the tile back splash, was Barbie, resplendent in her sparkly blue- and extremely filled out- bathing suit. Her pretty little face, replete with a tasteful touch of eye shadow and pearlescent pink lipstick was tilted in the direction of the carnage. And, moreover, on those pearly pink lips she was wearing that painted on smug grin.

The investigation is proceeding, and so far Babs isn’t saying a word, but I’ve got one of those feelings… You know, the Rowan Gant Twilight Zone knocking on the back of my skull kind.

And, you know what it’s telling me?

Barbie is a Black Widow. Maybe they should have named her, oh, I don’t know… Miranda?

More to come…

Murv

Nope. Not the electronic kind.

I’m talking about SPAM™ …Actually, since SPAM™ is ridiculously expensive (something like $3.29 a can… Probably due to the popularity of its name) I opt for TREET™ … Different company, same kind of can, same rectangular hunk of pressed pork leavin’s. And, it’s only 99¢ per can. Gotta love that.

Why? It means I can get three times as much of it.

Now here is the thing about SPAM™/TREET™/TRAM©/SPEET©. I love the stuff. Don’t know why. I mean, I definitely didn’t come from a well to do family, so I ate more than my share of the meat-like schtuff as a kid. Along with Vienna Sausages, which I also love. And, well, our psyche’s do tend to rebel and we normally eschew that which reminds us of harder times. But, the psuedo Virginia ham-like goodness of these canned pork leavin’s don’t really conjure a bad memory for me. In fact, it is more like a comfort food. It makes me remember a time when my family was still around – you see, with the exception of my sister and a few distant relatives, my ancestral family is gone. So, at this semi-advanced stage in my life I am a bit nostalgic. Therefore, I am all about things that remind me of better times, even if we were dirt poor and the times didn’t seem “better” when they were happening. Now, looking back on them, they seem like the best of times. But, that is the way with nostalgia, so who am I to complain?

Now, there are tons of ways to serve TREET™/SPAM™… Dice it up in some scrambled eggs. BBQ it. Roast it on a stick at a camp out. Hey, I’ve even diced it up and added it to homemade lentil soup. This stuff is so friggin’ versatile, I could go on forever. The possibilities are that endless.

However, I’ll stick to a single recipe…One of my favorite ways to enjoy these pressed and potted pork renderings is to slice the block into 1/2 inch thick slabs, sear ’em real quick in a hot skillet, then place a couple between two pieces of wheat bread with a slice of real American cheese. Now that, my friends, is good eatin’.

Okay, so I know you are wondering why I am devoting an entire blog entry to SPAM™/TREET™/TRAM©/SPEET©. Well, it’s simple really.

I love it. My wife and kid, not so much. The kid turns her nose up. My wife, on the other hand, will eat it if it is the only option and she’s really, really hungry. But, usually, she likes to point out that she doesn’t like it. Lately, she has even been on a kick of telling me that it is “bad for me”…

So, step forward in time a bit…I was having a potted-pressed-rendered-pork-leavin’s sammich just the other day. I was really enjoying it. The Evil Redhead proceeded to ask in a somewhat accusatory tone, “Do you realize how much saturated fat that stuff has in it?”

Honestly, I didn’t. So, I checked the can.

About 4g saturated fat and 6g of protein per serving (which is what I was having – 1 serving) 3g of carbohydrates in the form of sugars. It was about 130 calories, not counting the bread and cheese. Now, I will grant you, the entire fat content of a serving is 11g, but not all fat is bad. In fact, our bodies require it to function. And remember, only 4 of the 11 grams were saturated, which is the bad kind.

Now, the interesting thing about this is that when she asked the question, she was enjoying a serving of Strawberry Milkshake Flavored Malted Milk Balls.

Out of curiosity, I checked the box.

Her single serving was 180 calories, had 8g of saturated fat, 31g of carbohydrates (26 of which were in the form of sugar) and 1 whole gram of protein.

She was slightly stunned…

Based on what I was reading, her snack was worse for her than mine was for me. Not to mention, mine actually had significant nutritional value, whereas hers had next to none. I was also going to no longer be hungry. Her, probably not so much.

Of course, EK is about as big around as a stick, and her family is predisposed to live to 100 without any heart or artery disease, so the not so nutritional value of the malted milk balls probably didn’t hurt her one iota. But, hey, that’s not the point…We’re talking nutrition here…

You know, I think I’ll take the pork leavin’s over the candy.

More to come…

Murv