Thursday, July 05, 2007

Rack up the meat

I'm hardly a vegetarian, nor is anyone that is currently living under my roof. I have no issue with it, it's just not my way. I will say, however, that my meat intake, particularly of the red variety, has dropped over the last few years, and I feel that it's been a healthy adjustment.

There's something about national holidays, though, that just brings out the carnivore in me. It's as if all that red, white, and blue calls to my inner beastman and fills me with cravings for slow-cooked dead farm animal, along with all the usual sides except for potato salad because that shit makes me want to vomit.

Seriously though. Celebrating America and eating meat. It's just so goddamn perfect, no?

Interestingly enough, breakfast today was resoundingly unpatriotic: french toast. Or was it freedom toast? I can't remember now. Shit. Oops, pardon my freedom.

Our friends Rob and Liz had a little mid-morning party over at their place. I don't think I've ever been to a party in the morning before, but I must say I liked it. I'm all for it. I think we should have more of them, particularly in the middle of the week. There was meat available, but we were already full, so I just had a bloody mary. Bloody Mary was a Queen of England, so I suppose that was somewhat unpatriotic of me as well.

Lunch and dinner both managed to include meat, and thus made up for the morning's lack of patriotism. Lunch was a potluck, to which we contributed store-bought potato salad. The Ash put it in a bowl and received numerous compliments, none of which were from me. Dinner was a trip to Rudy's BBQ along with, from the looks of it, about 46% of the population of Austin. It' been raining here for the last couple of weeks, so I guess nobody feels like hauling their grills out.

I'm not sure where this national holiday/meat craving thing comes from, but it's pretty consistent. It's probably just me using the day as an excuse to gorge myself. I feel like an asshole making light of it, especially given that 1) our country is stuck in a disgusting mess of a war, so all national holidays just feel especially shitty, and 2) people around the world and right here at home don't have enough to eat.

But I'm putting this little invite out there. Next election day, when the next president is elected, let's all get some steaks. And some beer. And maybe something we can take shots of. And some other grillables that we can throw on the fire. Let's not forget the vegetarians. And the next day when the results are in, whichever side wins, let's get together and feast. If the good guys win, let's celebrate. If evil prevails, let's mourn. I'll see you there.

Hope you had a great day.

9 comments:

Whit said...

Potato salad is for communists.

Oh, and I freakin' love Bloody Marys.

CamiKaos said...

Wow, I think I just made my election day plans... last time we put the baby to bed and then got drunk... this time we'll grill up a steak before putting the baby to bed and getting drunk...

Anonymous said...

I think you're the only other person I know who doesn't like potato salad. It's nasty.

I like your election day plan, too. I'm all for the grilling but how do we know which politician isn't evil?

Rachel said...

My husband recently went semi-vegetarian (he still eats fish). Normally it's not a big deal, but yesterday I was craving meat.

And yeah, between the war and the anti-immigrant sentiment going around, the thought of waving a flag does not appeal.

Anonymous said...

T. Holmes – Not Your Average Rib-Suckin’ Jingoist

More of a fan of dance and folk
than of Dallas and Polk

Born with a switchblade in hand,
he severed his own umbilical cord
and then tapped the old soft-shoe with a whistle to boot

At age two he blew
a stewardess’ top
then laid her jumbo-jet ass down with a flop

More of a fan of guns and meat
than of Grover’s defeat

It suited the band of gypsies
just fine
when he tied his nuts in a bow
for a buck and a chuckle

And at ten he was a shark of a kid
Made midnight music with
a trashcan lid

More of a fan of crooning and Cash
than of booze bottles a-bash

It wasn’t astonishing when he raised the wooden beam
high above his hangman’s head
and splattered that hangman’s brains all over the wall

He was sixteen when his heart flooded with southern-ness
She was fifteen, Alabamian, god-fearing and motherless

More of a fan of swing and sway
than of JFK

I met him at Contessa
in the Great Autumn of ‘94
stealing dinner from a group of exchange students

He was eighteen or nineteen,
and wore brass knuckles
to college classes
We never criticized his guitar playing on account of the love
we had for our own asses

More of a fan of hop and hipper
than of Gorby and Gipper

As a writer he preferred his protagonists be whorish and wise
and he always found
comedy in tragedy

Now in his early thirties,
he celebrates the 4th of July
by tying his nuts in a bow
and he thinks about his
old gypsy friends

- Chief
Yo brotha T. Looks like you're kickin' ass these days. I'd love to catch up. Drop me a line by email perdizdzb@gmail.com or give me a call 832-473-1096. Hope you like your poem. David

Anonymous said...

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Sheil said...

Amen to the blog - brother! I went vegatarian for about 4 months and it just about killed me. although my red meat consumption isn't very high anymore (damn that cholesterol) nothing beats the bbq at saltgrass.

James Grayson said...

I think I would rather starve than eat potato salad. Rudy's BBQ brisket, though, is near perfection!

Radioactive Tori said...

How do you feel about the warm sweeter potato salad? I can tolerate that kind, but not the cold gross mayo kind.