Monday, May 26, 2008

Food, a Road Trip and Friends

I was thinking about writing something, but I cant remember what I was thinking of writing. I was positive it had something to do with food, a road trip and friends, so here goes.

I woke up, confused, not sure where I was. Staggering out of the car into the freezing cold, I noticed we were in a gas station. I looked at my watch and realized I had been sleeping for at least the past eight hours, and really needed to pee. Once I had answered the call of nature, I headed back to the car and slept until I was awoken by the smell of fresh deep fried chicken. That was a very strange trip to Washington DC and Silverspring, Maryland. It was made stranger still by the many police stops while driving back to Canada, it seems that I was in the back sleeping each time and my friend was driving, apparently just a bit too fast. But this story was not about any of those things, in fact, it’s the story of a completely different road trip.

In this completely different story, I was with a bunch of friends in New York on a road trip. One of my friends, being very into food and teenage hi-jinx, stopped into a popular restaurant and ordered us all food. While we were waiting, he dumped the toppings and condiments intended for several hundred into his cooler and we spent the next four days eating relish and pickled onions.

It does not seem like that’s what I was thinking of either. I guess I can try one last time to jog my old tired memory into the right story.

There was this one time I was fishing with a friend in the boat a couple of kilometers downriver from the small Northern town my family was living in at the time. After an hour or so of trolling for bites, the engine suddenly spluttered and stopped. We tried pumping the gas, kicking the engine, praying for a miracle, but nothing worked and we were stuck, floating in the middle of a small lake. My friend suddenly went into panic mode and started talking about living of the land, Tom Hanks in Castaway, cannibalism, and would anyone ever rescue us. I pointed out we could row back, or for that matter, get out and walk along the shore for twenty minutes to get home. I think that just made him panic more. I gave the engine one last kick and tried to start it, and shockingly it sprang to life and we were saved. Heading back to the town we were just on time for dinner and I was not even a bit hungry.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hey! I'm an 18 year old from the U.S. and I'm planning on moving to Israel this summer for olim mechina. In the next year or so I want to join the I.D.F. I was wondering if you could recommend any jobs for me. In a perfect world I would love to be a medic (I volunteered for MADA last summer) but I think my parents would kill me if I waited any longer than 4 years to start university! I'm a pretty creative person and I'm outgoing. Do you know of anyone I could talk to that would have good suggestions. I would talk to a shaliach but I'm not planning on officially making aliyah just yet!
Thanks so much-- I love your blog, by the way.