in praise of my ladies brisket:

On finding salvation at the bottom of a Magic Pot

It had been another long day on the road with Ricky. I returned home to an empty house.

Dinner was mostly cold and on the stove.

The mashed potatoes had the enthusiasm of a bag of farts in a mud puddle.

The cabbage and carrots cooked Indian style looked as appetizing as a porta potty after a hot sauce festival.

But then I opened the Magic Pot. Within its digitally monitored confines I found a lump of brown that turned my frown upside down.

BEEF BRISKET!

And still warm.

A shudder of anticipation coursed through me.

Surrounding the beef was a puddle of spotty, oily joy.

Onto the plate went the bashed potatoes along with the vegetables of ennui.

And on top of all of that dilapidated mess went the au-jus from the Magic Pot.

All meat should be pulled I proclaimed to the cats.

The cats?

They ignored me.

But the beef called to me. Eat me, Jimmy! EAT ME!

I reached in, hauled out a hunk and shredded it above the potatoes, cabbage and carrots.

Pulled beef brisket, pulled pork, pulled chicken, pulled prairie oysters.

I sat down with a can of de-alcoholized Guinness and fell in love.

Though Laura was nowhere to be seen, she was everywhere and inside me all at once.

The food left me speechless.

I moaned as I chewed.

I thought of all the beautiful beef cattle I passed as we delivered all day.

I remembered seeing the light in their eyes as I moo’d at them.

I imagined their muscles moving them through the fields.

And then?

I ground my teeth into cow flesh.

I could see every little muscle fiber. I imagined it as part of the cow. I even imagined it mooooving.

I thought of how beautiful a creature a cow is.

And then?

I went back for seconds.

Both the potatoes and the cabbage were redeemed by the blood of the cow.

And its flesh?

HOLY COW it was incredible.

And by ‘HOLY COW’ I mean just that. This brisket brought me a little closer to God.

Every aspect of my humanity was cleansed and restored by Laura’s incredible act.

After hearing my compliments she laughed: That lump of beef had been in the deep freeze at least three years. I’m surprised it didn’t have the consistency of a hockey puck.