Monday, May 26, 2008

Memorial Day, Bikes, and Brats

I have to admit that on this weekend I have been a bit selfish. I have treated myself to a real weekend off from the travails of my existance. In simpler words, I have done absolutely nothing (even though I am starting to pre-plan my work week, argh). But, I do feel a bit guilty in admiting that I have not given much thought to the meaning of today's holiday. So here is a tip of my beer bottle (and hat) to my Grandfather, who spent four years in German POW camp; my uncle Bob, who served in Vietnam; all my friends who have worn the uniform and to all those who have served. I thank thee.

I took the Soulcraft down to Tucson and spent some time riding the 50 Year trail and Fantasy Island. First time on Fantasy in about 3-1/2 years but I remembered it all. It is made for a single speed and dehydrated as I was, I ripped it pretty well. And, since Keir was feeling a bit under the weather, he didn't push me for once (it must have been fatigue caused by crushing me in ping pong the night before).

I fell off the vegetarian wagon again, but I have an excuse. Memorial Day weekend is made for brats and I tried eating a vegan version of said culinary delight. Now I know exactly how horse dung tastes. So, I ate a real brat. A succulent, juicy, grilled brat. Cooked as if from a German beer hall. *sigh* Indeed, Manna from heaven it was. The stomach cramps and headache afterwards were well worth it. I have been told, though, that bratwurst does not count as real meat, especially when accompanied by the proper beverage. I will rationalize it anyway I can.

Is it so wrong to eat a juicy brat?
Should I feel guilty or a bit distraught?
I knew I was done
seeing it in its bun
yes, in its succulent goodness I was caught

I tried eating the vegetarian version
believing it to be a culinary excursion
it tasted like dung
to my sensitive tongue
it was more of a culinary perversion

1 comment:

Energetic Storyteller, Family Historian & Grebel Lover said...

The key to enjoying soy bratwurst or italian sausage is to grill it, not microwave it, and drown it in onions and spicy dark mustard.

Of course, I fell off the wagon at Miller Park last month, but I made it through Memorial Day weekend.

But, I did have a hard roll with butter.