Monday, December 22, 2008

"i wish to be fed toasted bread," she said

bread is popular. it makes life easier. it is affordable. it is always around when i need it. i like bread. i eat it almost every day. it has become a habitual task to place a slice above and below an array of sauces, meats, and cheeses just as John Montague instructed. bread & butter is an appropriate idiom and supplement for anything with noodles or a thick dressing to dip it in. what would the brilliant combination of Peanut Butter & Jelly be with nothing to hold it together?
muddy, purple vomit, in case you weren't imagining.

as a child, i would consider it a treat to eat bread by itself (the heel being the holy grail of all snacks). i wondered if my grown self would still feel the same, so today i fulfilled my curiosity - and my belly - with a plain white slice of bread. it was the base to nothing. not butter, not jam, not turkey or ham. just bread by itself, seemingly bland. by the way, my name is not Sam. but it was not bland at all! it didn't reach the pedestal i had placed it upon in my mind, but my self-indulgent side enjoyed every bite. i also remember going through phases when i only prepared my sandwiches toasted. i loved how the hot and crunchy outer-layer completely changed the taste of the sandwich.
i know better now.

whether a sandwich is toasted or not, the taste is not what changes, merely the texture. my crispy phases were new and exciting, but would never last long. as i felt pieces of my meal crumble between my fingers, i knew i couldn't withstand a lackluster world without fluff or comfort. i was tired of scooping up the burnt remnants off of the table and into the trash. i could have consumed them, i know. after all, i hate being wasteful, but not as much as i hated - and still do hate - that unsavory aftertaste of charred grain. i had to revert to my bland bread days. those days were less time consuming. i wasn't wasting energy. i wasn't in need of some kitchen appliance. most of all, those were the days i truly felt happy.
if happy could speak, would i recognize its voice?

times change. preferences change. my taste today doesn't match my taste or the memory of my taste as a child. today i ate a plain white slice of bread. it was a treat, but if i were to solely eat bread in this manner, it too would lose its appeal. the taste would change in its regularity, and a deviant side of me would pine for all of my sandwiches to be toasted.
but im trying not to burn things... even if it's just bread.

- Alex McCurdy

1 comment:

Connie, who blinked said...

how do you comment on serious posts? i don't really know. "that was beautiful/impressive/a life-changing read" seems too shallow, because chances are, i missed the point of this narrative.

on the other hand, linking a video of dancing gingerbread also seems a little out of place.

merry christmas!