Subject: Coffee Gallery: The Remains Of The August Pig Roast

We can feel the chill winds blowing already. On the leeward side of The Coffee Gallery temperatures have dropped to the mid-80's. Leaves will be turning shades of autumn soon. In the Mid-West of our country it is already time for the tune up of traditions built around one of our most hallowed food sources, the pig. When the temperature plunges the porker is in trouble.

BOB STANE SAYS: I just got back from my trip to Detroit. Had a nice time. Went for several reasons. First to see my friends. Second, I went to the big Woodward Dream Cruise and saw thousands of modified cars of all ages. I have never shaken the lure of my wasted youth dabbling in hot rods and custom cars. Third, I saw and heard a great folk music show on Sunday during a barbecue in the woods. Fourth, I participated in the "Running Of The Pigs" in a small, old village in Northern Michigan. This settlement was founded by immigrating Hog Farmers from a certain English domain. During "The Run" one must touch a charging porker with a dry corn cob to show one's masculinity. Hundreds did so until the porcine hoards shouted, "enough! Enough with the dry, scratchy cobs!"
In the fading light of the day we had the obligatory battle between Pig And Man. As in a bull fight, there is a matador and a ring. In the bull ring, the man has a fine sword of Spanish steel. The bull has but a bad attitude and who can blame him? In this case it is a Pig Sty and the brave young lad is armed with a garden rake, the better to awaken his adversary, and he is dressed to impress in his "overalls of lights." The pig is upset over the delay of his dinner. Somewhere in the shadows, fades the tingling notes from a ghostly accordion. There was no death in the afternoon. Just bad taste.

Lots of squealing. No damage done. At the remainder of the day lots of potatoes are eaten by all involved....pigs and bumpkins. Humans leaned against the fenders of their pick-up trucks through dinner, swine ate while sitting in front of the tail gates, their little corkscrew tails at a sophisticated and jaunty angle. Fine wine and crisp bread was enjoyed by all. (More about wine at the bottom. Wait for it.)

An answer from the original posting:

Bob,
Did you know that more people are killed by pigs each year than by sharks? They may look harmless enough, but don't turn your back on them.
The only way I trust a pig, is when he's turning on the spit, being brushed with beer. Can you say, "Chicharones"?

Looking forward to being at your place again tonight...bringing friends and family.

Sincerely,

John Gannon

BOB STANE OBSERVES: You may be knowledgeable of your wines. You may be able to detect a fine "finish." It may have a wonderful "bouquet." Perhaps a "nutty aftertaste" and it may "linger on the palate." It might have a "hint of oak." But, if you are having it it at 9 A.M., over oatmeal, you are still a drunk.

Oh, Bob, you've gone too far this time. And it cost him a pretty penny to get out of that one.

Other stories by Bob

 

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