Beefalicious
Do you know what I think tastes really good? Any guess? Well, I�ll just have to tell you then. Steak. Saturday I ate about 1 and a half pounds of wholesome Nebraska steak.
Allow me to lapse into [narrative mode].
We were huddled together around the glowing coals of a grill trying to ignore the biting cold and the wind that howled through the trees. All of us were intent on our objective; no creation of God or man would come between our steaks and us. Eighty pounds of juicy Omaha sirloin tip were sitting in a large bucket of marinade. The aroma of the spices and Worcestershire sauce inundated our senses, blocking out much of the world around us. The paltry heat from the charcoal was just enough to make steam rise from the wet slabs of meat as light snow flakes landed on man, meat, and metal. The intoxicating aroma was enough to drive a man crazy, and the flickering coals were dying out as the night progressed.
The heat of the coals had begun to wane after only one small group of steaks was cooked. To rectify this situation we made use of the majority of a bottle of lighter fluid. Most of us retained our eyebrows, and enjoyed both the flash of heat and the excitement in a man’s heart that accompanies such a large burst of flame. After dumping another pile of fresh charcoal on the short lived blaze we placed a fresh batch of bovine flesh on the fire, and gave the charred and chemical scented steaks to the few men who were foolish enough to be away when we revitalized the fire.
When at last the prime choices of meat began coming off the grill we all experienced a profound joy in their consumption. The steak went from the grill to our hands, and then directly between our gaping jaws. The pink juices that leaked out of the meat ran over our hands and down our chins. These rivulets of tangy marinade and the various bodily juices that had remained in our dear departed mooing friend were largely unsuccessful in escaping us. Each man licked his fingers clean and grinned, waiting for more steak to finish cooking,
This continued for several timeless hours of shivering and bonding. Perhaps we felt a primal connection with our ancestors and all the many years they had spent eating partially cooked flesh of a wild creature over a fire in the cold and the dark. Though we were separated from our ancestors by centuries of technological improvement and development, that brotherhood of men was able to forget the worries of the modern world, if only for a few hours until we had filled our bellies.
[/narrative mode]
Well, that was fun wasn’t it? That is a very romantic image. Surely I have conveyed the essence of masculine emotion. I think I should get back into a writing class or something next semester. I don’t seem to have enough outlets for this overflowing font of creativity. Perhaps I feel compelled to be this wordy because I am so proud of the websites fairly refined Content Management system. Anything less than flowery speech would not do my journal true justice.