MY EARLIEST CHRISTMAS WISH: I was either five or six when I engaged in my first plot to take over the world... asking Santa for a "real" magic wand. You see, I thought myself the smartest kid on earth; knowing well that other kids would ask for toys, my plan was much more fully realized and ambitious, a back-door clause, like foiling the genie on the third wish by wishing for a thousand more. I want... a REAL magic wand, I whispered to the mall Santa. What else do you want? Silly Mall Santa, I require no more, no back up or plan B for you to fall back on should you fail your task. I want a REAL magic wand. I said it politely, of course, but I knew I had him on the technicality--I'd been good most of the year and he had to give me at least one thing on my list, so I kept the list short. (Always thinkin', this guy is...) Santa Claus would be my bitch.
My parents looked over my letter to Santa (I had to do the letter thing too for the sake of redundancy, you see; there could be no misunderstanding. I had a vision...). But don't you want anything else, my parents carefully asked. No, of course not, why be selfish? I asked, innocently wiping away my drool, concealing the depths of my megalomania with a safety-wipe. It seemed to me perfectly straightforward; why waste anyone's time with anything else when the magic wand would surely provide? But alas, my carefully crafted scheme was thwarted! destroyed! and undone at the last minute like the scheme of every James Bond villain from 1962's "Dr. No" to today's "I'm So Tired Let Me Die." (... or whatever Bond film they're up to these days) I had been foiled by realities I could not yet grasp, but felt in the depths of my soul that Christmas morning as I plucked from the mantle an apologetic note from Santa--my dreams of world conquest dashed as I sat in footie pajamas. Sure, he had other toys for me, but to me they were merely boxes and paper. The world had slipped through my grasp. I grew up a lot that day. All that time I had been good for nothing.
Some would say I'm still good for nothing. Hehe. I mean, ho ho.
AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO HATES FOOD? Thanksgiving used to scare me the way Halloween scares most kids. See, in many ways Halloween was MY Thanksgiving; I could make a five course meal out of the M&Ms alone. Mmm, candy.... I know, I know, Thanksgiving is supposed to be more about Family than the Turkey, but hey, I don't eat the family. My appetite stopped maturing at the age of three. Hot dogs, hamburgers, tacos and pizza are the only reason I'm still alive this day. And the only reason I'll be dead ten years from now. There doesn't exist on the earth a fruit I like, and vegetables might as well be called "carrots," because that's all I know of them. Fish? Processed into a McDonalds fillet it's good. Chicken? Oh yes... as long as it's one of those mysterious breeds known as McNugget. And while I'm on the subject, woe to the guy who doesn't like chicken, 'cause everything tastes like it...
Gone from my universe--wiped away, if you will--are the Four Food Groups, replaced by my Four "C"s.... Chips, Cookies, Candy and Cokes. Hehe.
Come to think of it, the letter "C" is well represented; it may be that I'm not picky against food, just the other 25 letters of the alphabet, really... Take Asparagus, for example--it starts with the letter "A" and I don't like it. Broccoli--now that's "B," and well, no thank you. BUT... Cake starts with a "C," and it's delicious. So too, Cookies! Now, Cotton Candy (note the 2 "C"s there), I like twice as much as cotton or candy alone.... Maybe it's the Caffeine that I like in Coke. Or the Calcium in the Cream in my Coffee. Pizza I like, but Cold pizza? Even better. And when it's Covered with Cheese? Cascading over the Crust? Or, for that matter, Complementary and without Charge because they Care about their Customers? (Especially when it's Carryout) Yumm. SEE, THIS IS MY THESIS: everything just tastes better with more "C"s. Really, the more "C"s in a food's name, the better. Oh, now, I know what you're thinking.... I just said I didn't like broccoli, and it's got two "C"s, right? Fatal flaw? No, I don't think so(!); it just makes my point; think how much worse it might taste if it didn't have those "C"s. Who's to say the "C"s don't make it taste as good as it does? I mean, if it were just "Brooli", that doesn't even sound good. I'd never even try something called brooli. And without the "C" chips would be hips, where I think they go anyway. See, I'm on to something; the whole food pyramid rests on the "C"rux of the "C". And without the "C" it doesn't quite "crumble," but it does... "rumble."