How Do You Like Your Eggs

While Studly Doright played golf on Saturday morning I watched the 1936 film, “The Plainsman,” starring Gary Cooper as Wild Bill Hickok and Jean Arthur as Calamity Jane. The old movie wouldn’t be deemed politically correct nowadays with its portrayal of Native Americans as aggressive savages and women as nothing more than flies in the ointment of men’s lives, but it wasn’t without humor.

In one scene Gary Cooper asked another cowboy how he liked his eggs. “Well,” said the man. “I like them just fine.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. Studly walked in about that time and asked me what was so funny. He’s an aficionado of good one liners, so he got a chuckle out of the egg quip, as well. I then recalled the first time anyone asked me how I liked my eggs.

I’d gone with my grandparents to Houston to see the oldest of their three children, my Uncle Jack. I might’ve been five, and I adored Uncle Jack. He lovingly called me a little jackass–which I, in turn, took to calling others, much to my parents’ chagrin.

On one morning of this trip Uncle Jack treated us to breakfast at an International House of Pancakes. I’d never been to one before, and it was the most wonderful place I’d ever seen. The variety of pancakes on the menu was staggering. I took my time choosing just the right item. As I recall I ordered a combo that featured a pancake festooned with strawberries and whipped cream, along with bacon and eggs.

When the waitress took my order she asked, “How do you like your eggs.”

In my sweetest five year old voice I responded, “Cooked, please.”

Everyone, my uncle, my grandparents, even the waitress, laughed. My Nanny quickly told the waitress that I liked my eggs over easy, but I was mortified. I didn’t order eggs any way other than scrambled for many years after. I was a sensitive kid, you know.

Now, many years later I can marvel at how naive I was. How do I like my eggs? Well, I like them just fine.

Peace, people!

Paltry Poultry?

Boredom set in this afternoon and I started thinking about chicken jokes. Yes, I’m warped that way. Enjoy.

Chicken shaming. It’s a thing.
But we still don’t know WHY….
What they don’t know won’t hurt her.
Beg your cat can’t do this.
Truth in advertising.
Pre-scrambled?
Maybe she could take estrohen.
Too (Chicken) Little; Too Late
Kids these days.

Peace, People!

In One Basket

Always the finder of the fewest eggs,
A dubious prize at best.

Like being crowned Miss Congeniality
In a field of wild weeds.

I never declined the questionable honor,
But smiled winningly enough

To hoodwink the shepherding adults into
believing I was honored,

When all I ever really wanted was to have the fullest basket

Just one Easter.

  

Bacon Wrapped Pizza and Other Delicacies 

Bacon on a sandwich,
Or alone on a plate.
Bacon with tomato
Wouldn’t that be great?
Bacon wrapped around
A nicely grilled filet or
Tucked inside a fluffy quiche
I could go for it that way.
Bacon served with eggs,
Poached or maybe fried.
Bacon-wrapped asparagus,
You’ll be so glad you tried.
Bacon for breakfast,
Dinner or lunch
Bacon’s even perfect at a
Fancy ladies’ brunch
But today I saw an ad
That nearly blew my mind:
Pizza wrapped in bacon
A truly monumental find!
Alas, I’m on a diet and
Can have no bacon at all
Except for one named Kevin,
And he’s not answering my call.  







Peace, People!