BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I need one of these BBC’s…

Well, not really. They’d probably just censor me left and right, and we can’t have that.  It would make for some blog posts that look like a government document released under the Freedom of Information Act. 27 conjunctions, 12 verbs, and 1 pronoun spread out across 53 pages and situated in between long, black marks blocking out everything else in the whole document.

Oh yeah… downright riveting…

No, I think what I need is a bureau full of content to put in my blogs. Yeah… That would be helpful. Provided it has some good stuff in there, not just underwear and socks…And, by bureaus in this case, obviously I am talking about a chest of drawers.

Speaking of bureaus filled with good stuff, sometimes the good stuff is sitting on top of them instead of in them… Or, so it seems.

I suppose it is all a matter of perspective. To adults, the top of a bureau can be a catch all. A place for combs, brushes, your wallet, your watch. Maybe a plant that you forget to water. 58 cents in change. A stick of chewing gum you’ve been carrying around for 2 years. A monkey… wait… not a monkey… Well, you get the idea.

To a married couple it’s a bit different. It becomes a no-man’s land…in my case anyway… And, by no-man’s land I mean there’s no room at all for me to put anything there because it is covered with my wife’s stuff…And, y’all know how EK is. You don’t mess with her stuff or she goes all redhead on you, and well… it ain’t pretty. She is… Pretty, I mean. In fact, she’s downright hot, even when she’s pissed off… but, she can be just plain evil, which is why we call her Satan in high heels… Hence why you don’t mess with her stuff. You following me on that one? Good.

But see, now you’ve gone and gotten me off track again. Shame on you…

Back to that matter of perspective thing. To children, the top of a bureau isn’t as much a no-man’s land, as it is a treasure trove of all things sparkly and out of reach. Probably because they are so short. (that last part is just a guess on my part.) The first part of the statement, however, I know to be fact… How? That’s easy, from experience.

You see, when I was but a wee author type person – 3 1/2 years old in fact – I stood before a four drawer bureau, staring up at the trinket covered summit, and in that moment it became my Mount Everest. My K2. My mountain to conquer.

Literally…

Yeah, I climbed the damn thing. And, to prove how tough I was, I scaled the face of this mountain by free-climbing. No pitons, carabiners, or ropes, and definitely without the benefit of Sherpas or even base camps. I’m telling you, I was a regular action hero…

…right up until the damn thing toppled over on top of me.

The edge of the top put a crease in my forehead, and who knows, I may have actually lost consciousness. Like most folks nearing the half century mark, for me most of those memories are a blur, and the blurs are surrounded by huge gaps of absolutely nothing. The remaining vivid recollections I have from that incident are few…in fact, really only two. One is the fact that my father was working the night shift at McDonnell Aircraft Corporation and we only had one car, so my mother and I waited for a cab to take us to the hospital. I remember that because we sat by the open door of our ground floor apartment, watching out the window for it to arrive. The other was the X-Ray technician wheeling me in to “take a picture of my head”…

Hmmm… A chest of drawers fell on my head, then they beamed radiation at it… Maybe that’s why I turned out all “whimsical in the brainpan.”

Anyhow, I was okay. No fracture, no major problems. Just a very minor concussion. Good thing little kids have elastic skulls. I heard stories for most of my life about how my father rushed home from work and fussed over me. I always heard that from my mother, because my father was a man of few words and it wasn’t like him to be overly forthcoming with his emotions. I suspect his reaction might have embarrassed him a bit, or maybe he was simply trying to be an example of a “man” so that I would know how to act when I grew up. (He was a bit old-school… I suppose I am too in many ways, as since his death in 2003, I find myself virtually channeling him on a regular basis…)

Anyhow, back to bureaus – doesn’t matter what kind really. You see, it seems my most popular blogs are the one’s where I tell stories about the ridiculous  – and sometimes humorous – things that happen in my life. So, my guess is this recent clacking of dominos in my head is just my subconscious telling me what should be leaking out of my brainpan, so to speak.

All good… I’m listening.

Now, this is not to say there won’t be other types of things popping up here. I’m sure there will. In fact, there are a few of us author types right in the middle of planning a “blog tour” whereby we guest post on one another’s blogs. They’ll probably kick me out of the tour after a couple of my posts… won’t THEIR readers be surprised, eh?

But, the long and short of it is this: The stories of silliness in my life will continue. Just like Dave Barry, the late Erma Bombeck, and a whole host of other writers… Who knows? Maybe someday I will get a column somewhere too… It’ll probably on the back of an envelope, written in pencil,  and discarded in the recycle bin, but hey… A column is a column.

Won’t my journalism teachers be so proud.

More to come…

Murv

…but then, we already knew that, I suppose.

I reached this conclusion just moments ago… Well, bearing the statement above in mind I suppose I was merely REMINDED of the conclusion moments ago. You see, she made a comment that could only be uttered by an alien. That comment, I will relate to you below:

“No thanks, I’ve never been really big on cheese balls.”

Okay, all you filthy minded little monkeys need to jump on the ladder and climb right on up out of the gutter. We were NOT in the bedroom when she said this, we were in the kitchen. We were both fully clothed, and no propositions had been made other than I had offered her some leftovers from the Yule party this past weekend. We were NOT talking about anyone’s anatomy… We were talking about food.

Cheese balls have been around forever… They are a staple of all known party foods. In fact, some of today’s party foods have been spawned by the omnipresent and traditional cheese ball… But, that’s a totally different blog…

If you are invited to a party, even at the last minute, and need to bring something, you can always find a cheese ball at the store. Or at the very least, with almost no skill whatsoever, you can toss one together in nothing flat. I mean, even if you don’t have time to spend on an elaborate cheese ball (softening and blending the cheeses, adding spices and herbs, and all that jazz), a simple block of cream cheese, a couple of bags of shredded milk curd of your favorite flavor, a packet of dry veggie soup mix and voila! Cheese ball. Not only a respectable cheese ball, but to borrow a phrase from Alton Brown and twist it to my own convoluted use – damn good eats. Now, if you happen to have an extra thirty seconds you can even dress it up a bit. Wrap it in some Buddig ™ ham, or roll it in some crushed nuts. Voila! Now you have a semi-fancy cheese ball…really damn good eats.

Now, if you are blessed with both time and talent, go for the superbly fancy cheese ball (I will refrain from giving you a recipe here because that’s not really what this blog is about) and hey, you get orgasmically good eats.

So… Fancy, semi-fancy, or just plain, the cheese ball is easily had. And, if you don’t want to make it, you can probably get one at the local supermarket at almost any time of the year. But, at this time of the year, if you can’t find one, you aren’t looking. There is, to say the least, a veritable glut of the softened, rolled, curd confection in supermarkets during the holidays. After all, it’s the party season, plus all you need to do is consider the source – way back when, cheese, grain, and root veggies were pretty much what you had to live on when Winter solstice rolled around. They were food items that would keep, and could be stored away for the cold months when you didn’t have fresh stuff growing in the field… But, again, that is another blog…

Now, let us look at the versatility of our beloved cheese ball.

1) You can always take them to parties and they are an instant crowd pleaser – except where aliens are concerned, of which we have established my wife is one. Being an evil redheaded alien, I suspect she is probably their leader…

2) Leftover cheese ball makes a great snack on the leftover crackers the day after the party when you are too hung over to even think about cooking, and all you want to do is toss something down to quell the hunger. HINT: At this point, in order to keep from messing up the house any more than it already is, the leftover cheese ball on cracker should be consumed over the sink.

3) Leftover cheese ball works well as a sandwich spread to liven up that bologna or pressed ham/pickle loaf lunch meat you are taking to work with you between two slices of leftover bread from the party.

4) If folks show up unexpectedly, leftover cheese ball and crackers makes for a quick impromptu party snack. HINT: 10 seconds in the microwave and you can roll it back into a ball so it looks like new and they think you prepared it just for them alone. Simply pop it back in the fridge for a few minutes before serving.

5) Leftover cheese ball will last almost indefinitely. If you get a bit tired of it after the party, just put it in a Ziploc™ or Tupperware™ container, and stick it in the fridge. A few months later when you are looking for a midnight snack, dig it out and slap it on some Triscuits™ or Saltines™. HINT: If it is fuzzy, simply scrape off the moldy portion, discard it, and enjoy what is left. If the mold is blue, then don’t discard – it simply means you’ve got yourself a bleu cheese ball. (This is NOT to be confused with Blue Balls… As I said, climb on up out of the gutter…)

6) If you have run out of room in the fridge, then suck all the air out of the Ziploc™ (they have special ones with little vacuum pumps for that now to make it even easier) and toss it in the freezer. It will survive in there as long as, if not longer than, fruitcake.

7) If it is a port wine cheese ball, and you are out of booze, no worries. The wine is already in the cheese.

7A) If you are going to a wine and cheese party, by taking a port wine cheese ball you have covered all your bases, effectively killing both of the proverbial birds with a single cheese ball.

8) Leftover cheese ball – and even leftover cheese balls, as in many of them – along with a bit of milk and chicken or vegetable stock can be quickly and easily turned into cheese soup for a lovely first course.

9) If you are feeling really ambitious and are looking to impress folks, leftover cheese ball and a shot of brandy will render you a perfectly respectable fondue.

And, lastly…

10) A frozen cheese ball in a tube sock makes a great impromptu weapon if you have a household intruder. Then, merely pop it in the microwave for a few seconds, and you have a lovely snack to serve the cops who respond to the 911 call.

These are but 10 of the possibilities for the ever versatile cheese ball. I could go on and on, but the reality is, your own imagination is the only limiting factor. Cheese balls are one of the single greatest inventions of mankind, and most assuredly one of the most perfect foodstuffs…

So, anyone who doesn’t like them must be an alien, just like my wife…

More to come…

Murv