Baylus C. Brooks is a professional research and maritime historian, genealogist, and writer living in North Florida. Writes for Poseidon Historical Research & Publishing. Author of Quest for Blackbeard, Sailing East, and Dictionary of Pyrate Biography, all now from online stores! All posts are the opinions of the author unless otherwise noted.
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Monday, December 21, 2009
Life Lessons from a Chicken!
You really can learn from a chicken.
When I was a tot, I used to think that fried chicken came from KFC with a crispy wrapper. It was just meat wrapped to keep it fresh. You see, my mother did this. So, I just assumed that the very capable people at KFC must be doing that, too. It was part of the customer service. My Dad, the store owner, told me that part.
Well, I got older. Fried chicken isn't in a wrapper! I know that! I knew that! You knew that I knew that... right? Time to feel stupid... or was that humility. I made mistakes. In fact, most of us make those same kind of mistakes (I had a friend once that thought the same thing... small world). That was the best thing I learned from a chicken. Then, I laughed. Hey! I was laughing at myself! Another good lesson. Man, that chicken is really having an effect on my life!
Then, as I got older and less patient with grownups, I ate chicken alot. KFC became the junk food mecca and a place that we occasionally got the family Sunday dinner. I arguably ate way too much chicken. Still, picking the meat off all those bones got to be such a hassle! Why the heck didn't chicken come without bones (wait till I found out about chicken breast filets at Winn-Dixie!!!)? Those bones were there for a reason. You see, that patience that I was losing? Well, I was getting it back... all because of chicken. This was a giant leap into manhood, I tell ya!
Then came the day that a chicken taught me about life itself and about how you should never take life so seriously (Yeah, even I needed that lesson). A chicken taught me depth. I was eleven years old, playing in a deep ditch beside my grandma's house (she couldn't see me). I knew she kept chickens in a chicken coop. They were pets, right? Not exactly. I never thuoght of my grandma as an axe-murderess... just a sweet old lady (with a stern paddle and an always ready pumpkin or pecan pie). I saw death. There was blood... it was horrible! Then, the strangest thing happened. I saw a chicken run around without its head. I mean, I was eleven. I heard all the good ones. But, I didn't know this one was real! It was incredible! I forgot all about the murder. Scientific curiosity snagged me and didn't let go. That chicken gave his life so that I would apply myself in school. I had to learn it all. And, I owe it all to a chicken.
As I continued to grow... well, at least as far as I was gonna grow, I had many trips to KFC and now I was beginning to feel like I knew all about life. I learned how to cook for myself, work a job, drive a car, and lots of other grown up things. The cooking was great because I learned the many ways to prepare chicken and it became a staple of all American life. I mean, I know that Benjamin Franklin wanted the turkey to be the national bird... but, really, it should have been the chicken!
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