Freedom Sandwich

- - - - -

“…in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, ensure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity…”

from the US Constitution

- - - - -

There comes a day when a boy is of age to be granted choices. On that day he has a share in his fate, for more than one road lies before him.

On previous days, out of the blue, only grape jelly would suffice on the sandwich. Not strawberry or even grandma Gorinski's homemade peach. Then there would be no jelly at all, but only honey. Once this had been established, one particular kind of bread was deemed acceptable. Brown without "seeds," but not too brown.

Once these rules had been laid firm, suddenly, the crust was an abomination. While crust issues were understandable in those days, a two-inch crust buffer was not. Though guarding against the frightening possibility of inadvertently contacting crust, such a buffer allows only 2 or 3 good bites per half sandwich.

And when all suitable elements have finally been properly gathered, assembled and dispensed, questions of geometry come to pass. Cut up, "loaf shaped," triangles, rectangles, Iron Man plate, basketball plate, honey on the side, and without doubt, endless permutations into the future.

It has been calculated that one day only brand names will suffice. Then no peanut butter sandwich at all, but something set apart from the rest of our people, especially prepared to the flavor of the king on high. After that it will be that dads fishing pole is too creaky and mom’s old car is humiliation.

Every whim is an expectation, every luxury a necessity, and every comfort “just so.”

Oooh – how me the people despise the mentality of entitlement. It’s the principle, not the sandwich. It’s not like we’re serving fried monkey brains or even meat loaf and brustle sprouts.

Formulating and complying with precise sandwich specifications is not the answer. One Iron Man plate per child is not the answer. Uncrustables ready-made sandwiches and meticulous cutlery skills are not the answer. Saintly patience and perseverance are not even the answer.

The answer appeared as writing on a wall. It was a small sign hanging in the far corner Bret and Coleen Wagner's kitchen. I embraced that truth as good news for our home and for all homes; a fair and just, BS-stopping gospel of freedom.
That's why...

There are two choices for lunch today.


Take it or leave it.