Ode to the Fallen (A Day That Will Live in Infamy)
I’ll tell ya; I was watching the national (U.S.) news last week, and I couldn’t help but stare in awestruck wonder (sorta like the same way you just can’t tear your eyes away from a train wreck) by the absolutely ridiculous linguistic gyrations being paraded out for us by a supposedly smart woman. Now c’mon, y’all; wasn’t that the most insultingly convoluted attempt at circumlocution you’ve ever seen? (It’s funny how dangerous things always travel in packs, ain’t it? Lessee… there’s a pack of wolves, a pack of cigarettes… oh, and a pack of lies..)
Why is it, I wondered, when we do something dumb, the very first impulse always seems to be something along the lines of ‘at all costs, avoid responsibility and deny everything’?
But forget about U.S. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (who has now managed to usurp Bill Clinton’s spot as the poster child for that sort of thing) and the big, giant pickle she’s gotten herself into, I actually asked that question because of something that happened to yours truly the other day.
In fact, the reason this subject comes up at all is, well, I guess the best thing is to go ahead and confess to it right up front: My name is Robert, and I’m a (sound of anguished scream) cookie-killer. Go ahead, bring on the handcuffs; I’ll go quietly, officer.
See, it was like this…
It’s Snackin’ Time!
The other evening, Mrs. MZM and I were winding down from a rather strenuous day of… well, whatever the heck we do all day. Now, we’d just snuggled into our favorite spot on the couch when she looked up at me and said “Want something?”
I knew what she meant, of course. After all, when you’ve been married for 27 years, spending that much time together means at least some of our conversations have been honed down to a nub, if you get my meanin’. My stomach, knowing exactly what she meant, immediately perked up and gronked in reply.
After a brief discussion of the options (no need to repeat it here; our brand of shortspeak probably wouldn’t make all that much sense to you anyway) the judge’s decision, by a considerable margin, was: cookies!
Now don’t get me wrong, y’all; “having” cookies around our house ain’t that easy! I mean, it’s not like our pantry is loaded up with the things. And we’ve never been a big fan of those store-bought packages, either – none of those pre-baked, vacuum-bagged pretenders for us! (Mrs. MZM requires me to mention one exception: Girl Scout Thin Mints.)
Nope; around our house, when thoughts turn to cookies, we have to actually, y’know, bake ‘em ourselves. Well, to be honest – something we always strive for here at the Zone – we use those pre-made cookie dough things you keep in the fridge and just pop on a cookie sheet. Hey, we’re not total purists around here; too much work.
Anyhoo – hey, we have cookie-preparation down to a science around here: preheat the oven, carefully place the little doughballs (chocolate chip for the Mrs., and Oatmeal Raisin for me – both enhanced with a touch of cinnamon) on a cookie sheet, pop ‘em in the oven, set the timer, and… wait.
(That last is always the hardest part, isn’t it? The delicious smell of cinnamon quickly grows so powerful, by the time they’re actually ready to eat you’re practically gnawing on the furniture.)
The Call of the Wild (Cookie, that is)
Finally (!) that little timer thing on the oven lets off with it’s characteristic (and by the way, quite annoying) electronic signal. C’mon, admit it – it’s sorta like the Call of the Wild, ain’t it? And just like Pavlov’s dogs, at the sound of the tone my mouth instantly began watering in anticipation as I catapulted outta the couch like I was launched from an aircraft carrier calmly stood up and went to the kitchen to retrieve our little golden delights (surreptitiously smoothing over those unsightly chew marks on the sofa).
Here’s where the crucial event occurs. (Better gird your loins for this, folks; it ain’t pretty.)
I picked up a hot pad, opened the oven door (while inhaling the sweet, delicious aroma of hot, fresh-baked cookies – YUM!), grabbed a corner of the piping hot cookie sheet, pulled ‘em out of the oven, and proceeded to dump the whole shebang – cookie-side down, mind you – smack dab on the floor!
WHAP!
The sharp metallic sound of metal on tile reverberated around the kitchen for a few moments, then… a stunned silence filled the void. (Insert moment of stunned silence here.)
Yeah, I know; you’re probably as shocked I was at this appalling turn of events. I’m tellin’ ya; my heart just about stopped! It was an absolute travesty. It was criminal. It was… like in that movie The Day the Earth Stood Still, when the Earth, y’know, stood still. I half expected to look up and see ol’ Gort shaking his big, metallic head in dismay as he prepared to laser me into oblivion.
After about 5 seconds of this, Mrs. MZM’s voice wafted gently in from the other room, an ominous tone clearly detectable: “Did what I think happen – just happen?”
Uh-oh.
My panicky brain started to flounder as the connection between it and my tongue momentarily broke down. For a few seconds, the recurring phrase sense of impending doom was the only thing that circled through my poor befuddled mind. The flight reflex instinctively rose from its deep, dark lair, while sweat began to bead upon my troubled brow.
To top it off – and I kid you not – I distinctly remember thinking, Now, how can I plausibly claim, ‘It’s not my fault’?
Time to Pay the Piper
OK, rhetorical question here (which does not mean something Rhett Butler would have asked):
Have you ever done something stupid? Oh, I’m not just talkin’ about murdering a tray of poor, defenseless cookies; I mean, have you ever done something dumb and then immediately thought to yourself, Now how on Earth could I have ever done such a bone-headed thing?
No; no need to raise your hand or anything. I’d say the chance of anyone NOT pulling a boner at least once in their lifetime is roughly on the order of, well, that of ol’ Adam and Eve convincing God it “wasn’t them” who took the apple off that Tree of Life . After all, who else could it have been, y’know?
But what surprised me most was that little reflex thought that scampered through my brain. In spite of the clear and undisputable facts, right? I mean, there was no way I could deny that it was, y’know, my fault. The evidence, after all, was right there on the floor for all to see. (OK, it was just me and Mrs. MZM – and no, there is no, er, surviving photographic evidence.) There was absolutely no way to credibly deny it was me, and me only, that did the low-down dirty deed.
So what did I do? Well, own up, of course! Hey, I just never quite got a good grip on the edge of the cookie sheet as I lifted it out of the oven, with the inevitable result. End of story.
Almost.
The Rest of the Story
OK, by now you’re probably wondering if I’ve been sent up the river to do hard time by a jury of my peers, and I’m writin’ this post with a little tiny stub of a No.2 pencil on a long sheet of toilet paper smuggled into my dingy cell. So what sentence, you’re sayin’ to yourself, did Mrs. MZM throw at you for ruining a perfectly good snack?
Actually, she was remarkably cool and collected about the whole thing. (I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: What a woman!) In fact, after collecting the bodies of the dear departed and sharing a moment of silence (not to mention a tear or two), she even helped me clean up the mess. Later, humor – and practicality – won out, of course: we immediately baked another batch.
This time, I offered to let her retrieve ‘em from the oven, but she just shook her beautiful head and smiled. “Ya gotta get back on that horse,” she said with a smile – and a hint of steel.
But I have to say, it was a remarkably interesting lesson. And if – no, make that when – you do something like I did – something that just ain’t right – c’mon, just admit it and move on! I mean, how hard a lesson can it be, right? It’s a simple one, to be sure; easy to say, too. And after all, you’d think anyone with even an ounce of sense woulda figured that out before the age of five.
But I’ll tell ya; every time I watch the news these days, it becomes obvious there are some folks – folks who definitely should know better – that just don’t seem to get it. The truth is, they ain’t foolin’ nobody.
All I can add is, don’t you choose to be like that. I’m just sayin’.
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Middle Zone Musings is a comfortable place to stop, have a cup of coffee, swap a few stories and share practical ideas for the real world. I don't ask for much, just a bit of your brain every now and then. Have a seat, take a load off, and relax...
Oh Robert, I have observed a moment of silence for the dearly departed first batch of cookies!
Have I ever done anything bone-headed? Well of course not, because y’know I always make smart decisions. LOL! You are so right that our leaders (political and business) could learn a lesson from this incident. When you’re holding the mitts with crumbs on the ground, fess up and seek forgiveness. Actually they could also learn from the second lesson – even if no one sees you drop the pan, be honest! I’m just sayin’!
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Well, Robert, you’ve entertained and enlightened – and made me crave cookies! The entertainment and enlightenment courtesy of your skill and the cookie craving just my heightened state of being. I have always thought Sesame Street’s original inspiration for “The Cookie Monster” arose from one of their writers who must have been my neighborhood peeping Tom.
The thoughts that arose besides, “I must have cookies”, were musings about whether the knee-jerk response to cover up mishaps is an inborn trait or learned to prevent punishment – which just means that we punished honesty. I have worked hard to teach kids that it is important to just say, “I messed up” and apologize. But do we do them an injustice if the world will punish them for being transparent and forthcoming? It’s a shame that when corporations or political figures admit foibles or fault, they often invite the vultures that have been waiting in judgment to form a feeding frenzy eager to tear their wounds apart.
Ah, the topic has quickly moved from the gastronomic to philosophic – I’ve depleted my brain glucose stores. Ongoing consideration requires cookie reinforcements!
@Karen – You’re right; so many lessons, on so many levels! Gee, can you imagine society with this “slight” modification? Why it might just be… chaos!
@Jeanne – Wow, pretty heavy thoughts for a Monday morning, Jeanne! But that’s an interesting point – that we punish honest and forthrightness in our children. At least, we might if we do it wrong!
As for public figures, time and time again we see forthrightness being rewarded far more than obfuscation. And, although avoiding responsibility seems to let some “get by” at the time, all it really does is create a bigger and bigger mudslide – that will eventually bury ‘em under.
It’s kinda like George Carlin used to say: When only two people are in an elevator, and one farts – well, EVERYONE knows who did it!
No, it’s far more effective to admit to something right up front – and take your lumps. (Hey, we all know: no one is perfect.) Sure, it may be painful either way, but wouldn’t the most logical – and best – course be the one with, y’know, the least pain?
So it seems to me, anyway.
I really enjoyed your story. Getting back up on that horse was a good move. Hope you get to enjoy 27 more years together!
Respectfully,
Cheryl Beckham
Cheryl Beckhams last blog post..Gold Prices
And you weren’t tempted to eat them scraped off the floor? Not even oatmeal and raisin? I just adore oatmeal and raisin! No wonder we’re friends
Joanna Youngs last blog post..10 Things I Learned from Taking a Blogging Break
Wonderful parable, Mr. Hruzek! I’m ashamed to admit that, were it me, I’d've probably done my darnedest to eat the evidence as quickly as possible (five second rule, y’know) and then blame the cats for the missing cookies. Might’ve even gotten away with it, knowing our cats…
Kyles last blog post..Of Mudbugs and Night-Herons
This is why I let my wife handle everything in the kitchen…except the dishes.
Kitchen appliances and I don’t get along well, especially ovens. I’ll either forget to set the timer and burn my food to a crisp, or I’ll turn on the wrong burner and the sweet aroma of natural gas will permeate the room. Ahhhhhh……
Bet you felt “crummy” after that incident. Get it? Crummy??? Cookie crumbs?
@Cheryl – Thanks, and a tip o’ the hat for sayin’ so, Cheryl! Wow, 27 more years sounds like fun; especially with Mrs. MZM!
@Joanna & Kyle – Honestly, I would have cheerfully done that if there’d been any hope of rescuing ‘em. But unfortunately they were well and truly smashed beyond redemption. Especially the oatmeal-raisin ones. But you know how, when you take ‘em out of the oven, they’re still really, really soft? Well… *sigh*
@John – “Crummy”? Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ah! I get it!
Too bad it’s not funny. :-\
Great story, Robert. Reminds me of the time we were at my sister and brother in law’s, and he made a huge deep dish pizza from scratch. Bringing it to the table, he spilled the whole thing face down on a shag carpet. But I do stuff like that all the time … It’s amazing to me that public figures go into deny mode even when it’s absurd to do so – like certain athletes who claim they never took steroids. C’mon! What’s the game? I think it’s nothing less than the collapse of Western civilization. We need more of your cookie philosophy to save us. Not to mention more cookies!
Brad Shorrs last blog post..The Perfection of Marketing, by James Connor – A Book Review
What it really comes down to is, “what are you at stake of losing” Cookies? Well, you can always just put a few more in the oven, no harm no foul. But losing her fame, power and her private jet well that’s just too much for Ms. Pelosi to handle.
@Brad – Hey, maybe that can be the new “battle cry”? Ah, if only “more cookies!” could solve that little problem! *sigh*
C’mon, admit it; weren’t you even tempted to see what you could salvage off the carpet?
@Play – You’re possibly right on that one – at least on “power”, anyway.
i had a glass baking dish explode in my hand the other day when pulling it out of the oven. i used a wet towel to grab one end and pow, hot chunks of blue glass all over the floor. worst part. glass in the cookie. reminder to self. dont be so lazy next time wash the cookie sheet and use the proper tool.
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@dug – Yikes! Exploding glass dishes doesn’t sound like fun at all! But then again… good lesson learned, eh, dug? Oh, and sorry ’bout your, uh, loss. :-\
Robert, those cookies look so yummy, would you mind if I have a bite? Lol
Well, I confessed that I have done many silly things in my life, but hey, people do make mistakes and I won’t be shamed to admit it, especially in front of you all!
@Wilson – Hey, you’re in good company, at least, Wilson! I think pretty much all of us have pulled a boner or two in our lives. C’est la vie, eh?
Another wonderful post Robert. It had me laughing out loud, and I really needed that! The most bone-headed thing I’ve ever done happened about 12 years ago, the first winter in our current house. It had snowed quite a bit, so my husband pulled his GMC Jimmy straight in to the driveway, instead of backing in. (It wasn’t 4-wheel drive, and he didn’t want to risk getting stuck.) I don’t remember who shoveled, but at some point, I decided to be a nice wife and turn his truck around so he could pull straight out in the morning. I backed out of the driveway and turned around in the cul-de-sac to line it up and back in. I remember thinking, “Where is the… (wait for it………..) “CRUNCH! “Mailbox.” Fortunately I wasn’t going fast, and I think the mailbox (oh yeah, and my checkbook!) took the worst of it. Seeing as how it’s just the 2 of us, and he didn’t do it, I had no choice but to just ‘fess up.
Linda704s last blog post..Lessons from the Barkhunt
@Linda – Yeah, it’s tough when there’s no one left to blame, ain’t it? I’m reminded of one of the late George Carlin’s old comedy routines: “If there are two people in an elevator, and one of them farts – everybody knows who did it!”
Love this story. I too have dropped cookies face down just as i’ve pulled them out of the oven. I had to stop myself from eating them right off the floor. In the immortal words of Agent Smith “It’s the smell!”
Those poor cookies!
Lesson learned, so I guess all is good.
Everyone messes up AT LEAST once in their lives right. Hey, no one is perfect. We just have to stand up, stick it out, and learn our lesson. In the end, we’re all the more a better person.
I just love the smell of freshly baked cookies! the cinnamon will really get to your nose and make you just want to jump at those piping hot cookies and be a cookie monster.
Thanks!