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Trickle - Special Food edition

December 3, 2008 - Brian Ferry

I like to take pictures. I even try to take it seriously. I'll lie on the ground or climb something tall or risk moderate traffic for a good shot. Once I hunkered down in a pouring rain next to a huge, roadside puddle and waited for a car to drive through and splash (me) for a shot. (Turns out it was a truck.) The other day, I was trying to get a shot for the sports department. It was at the pool. The idea in my head required a very low angle. So, I had to lie down. The pool deck is not a dry place. I put down my (hopefully) waterproof jacket and got in a prone shooting position. The jacket didn't help my pant legs or portions of my shirt, but most of my trunk stayed dry. Only later did I remember the five miniature peanut butter cups in my shirt pocket. They sustained some damage, I had to do some advance work on my shirt before washing it, and I could only salvage two of the treats for later devouring. Good news, I think the shots came out all right.

Food challenge

During a visit to the circulation department, I was offered a pizza if and only if, I could eat the (whole) pizza, and, as soon as I finished the last bite, began doing sit-ups. I would have to do 100 sit-ups within 30 minutes. The pizza part is no big deal. I devour an entire Hot-n-Ready about once a week (when no one is willing to share with me and I forget that I should stop well before the 100 percent mark). The sit-ups don't sound bad either. That's less than four a minute. If I did one the first minute and took nine minutes off to help prevent reverse peristalsis, I'd still have 20 minutes to do 99. One every 12 seconds doesn't sound that bad, even with a pizza churning in the gut every sit-up. Easier still might be doing a couple every minute for 10 minutes, then going all out and doing, say, 10 a minute for a while, and taking a break before completing 50 or so over 15 minutes. I'll let you know if I take him up on the offer.

El hombre del hambre

I'm not sure what my high school Spanish teachers would think of that headline, but I think it means, 'The man of hunger.' I like to eat. I was looking up something in a past edition and ran into a story on the 2007 Ribfest. Part of that festival was a taco-eating contest. Regrettably, I could not attend. I'm not sure how competitive I could have been anyway, tacos are not my usual fare and, though I can eat much, I don't eat particularly quickly. Still, I wondered how I would have done. The winner downed 10 in three minutes. Sounds pretty good. I doubt I would have been the 'Tacoador.”


Ah, those chaps in the circulation department are always good for blog material. The three food-related Trickle items above this didn't feel like enough, so I went to the strange people in the back room for help. One chap suggested a lament on the end of hot dog season. I, quite seriously, informed him that I didn't know there was a season (nor bag limit) on hot dogs. He insisted that grilling is the only appropriate and decent way to eat a hot dog. I told him I was more of an equal opportunity hot dog devourer. I don't care if it's grilled (I do like them better that way), boiled, nuked, or cold out of the fridge. After calling me a heathen, he questioned my patriotism further by insinuating that anyone who eats macaroni and cheese out of a blue and yellow box is not fit to eat at a table. I told him that, from a young age, I've preferred mac and cheese in just that format. In fact, I once insulted the mother of a friend of mine who went to great lengths to make a thick and hearty dish for me. I said I liked my mother's better. Asked how she made it, I said, “Out of a blue and yellow box.” Needless to say (but fun), there is at least one chap in the circulation department who is a little too snooty about his food for my liking.

Fast food

I don't always get invited to the best parties. One night, a newsroom staffer who will remain Allen Seybert, was offered a total of about six dollars by others in the room if he would eat one of those large, really tasty peanut butter filled chocolate eggs in 10 minutes. They had to pay up. He wolfed it down. “Didn't feel good the rest of the night, though.” Missing an invitation to that is one of the low points of my career here.


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