Road Trip!
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider on Feb 8th, 2008
For the past three months, I’ve been on a weird and wonderful road trip, the kind that sends you in circles, day after day. No map has been necessary. I couldn’t get lost, no matter how hard I tried.
It’s been Zen-like, that’s for sure, walking around and around, getting nowhere and yet, just by showing up, getting things done. The distance adds up to a quarter of a block, max. But walk this path for three hours and you’ve gone three miles.
I won’t kid you. The concrete outing has taken its toll. Shoes wear out quickly, along with lower backs and knees. Even so, I’m not running on empty. Not yet. Not when the end seems within reach. Not when hope hangs in the air, mingling with the scent of coffee and half-eaten donuts. It’s an intoxicating blend that keeps me going. And like any good road trip, there’s a McDonald’s nearby. I stop in to use the facilities, and then get right back on my feet.
Picketing every day, and picking up new friends along the way, we’ve covered everything from politics and parenting to agents and animals. We never run out of things to discuss.
The other day, my friend Kelly and I had a lively debate that went something like this:
“If you were on a deserted island,” she began, “and you could only bring one food with you, what would it be?”
Immediately, my mind started clicking with options. I knew we could kill at least 10 minutes, maybe more, on this all-important topic. Then Kelly narrowed it down to only two food groups, making the decision that much tougher.
“Chocolate or French Fries?” she said.
I looked at her, understandably alarmed.
“That’s it? Chocolate or French Fries?”
“You heard me,” she said.
I started to protest. How could I possibly choose between two beloved delicacies that had seen me through some pretty tough times, both pre- and post-menopausal?
Kelly might as well have told me to pick a favorite son. I couldn’t do it. It felt ... wrong. If I wound up on a deserted island, would God deprive me of chocolate AND French fries? That would be cruel, unless, of course, Matthew Fox, star of “Lost,” entered the equation. With Matthew in the mix, I’d go without chocolate. I’d go without fries. I’d be happy with coconut milk and cookies made of sand. I’d have Matthew and that would be enough.
“Tick tock,” Kelly said.
“What would you pick?” I asked.
I figured I’d make her go first and buy myself more time. After all, this was a big decision. There were pros and cons involved.
Kelly didn’t hesitate. Not for a second. “Chocolate,” she said. She had one caveat, however. “Dark chocolate.”
“But French fries are comfort food,” I countered.
“And they’re a vegetable,” Patti, the gate captain, chimed in.
“True, but all that salt,” I said. “You’d get dehydrated.”
Now Jenny jumped into the discussion. “Savory versus sweet? That’s a no-brainer. Savory wins every time.”
“Chocolate’s full of antioxidants,” Barry from Brooklyn pointed out. “You gotta go with chocolate. Forget fries. All that grease. It’ll just clog your arteries. You’ll drop dead before they can rescue you. ”
Barry made a good point. So did Jenny and Patti. The heat was on. Kelly looked at me. I’d stalled long enough. I had to decide or I’d look weak before my peers. So I slammed on the brakes. I was done deliberating.
“Chocolate!” I declared.
I felt good about my decision. I could sustain myself on chocolate. I could survive on the cocoa bean. Not everyone agreed with my choice. Apparently, the French fry faction had grown stronger and more vocal. There was grumbling and dissatisfaction. Which meant only one thing. It was time to change the subject.
Comments
No one has commented on this story yet. Perhaps you'd like to be the first?
Post a comment
Commenting requires registration.