I have this thing I do in my head. I don’t know if there’s an official term for it, but I call it “wargaming”. I’m pretty sure it’s a sign of mental illness. I’ll be certain to ask my shrink at some point. It stems from my over-arching philosophy of “Plan for the worst, hope for the best.” I know how it sounds, but honestly it’s a sort of Mise en Place lifestyle that works well. Of course, it can be taken to extremes – hoarding comes to mind - but overall, I’m almost always ready for shit to happen and set myself up for many, very pleasant surprises when it doesn’t.
I tend to take wargaming to an extreme, following a single condition all the way down to what I believe is its logical conclusion. Like what I would do if I won the lottery or if the Devil challenged me to a fiddle competition considering I don’t play the fiddle.
I like to think I’ve refined the wargaming a bit over the years to give it some necessary focus. I mean, sure, an unpleasant child could do something stupid in the grocery store and I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t have an Oompa Loompa song ready to sing them to their doom, but I’m older now and playing for higher stakes. They are two-fold: fuck and you.
Not you personally, but in general. I’m talking about “fuck you money” which is honestly less about money and more about the ability to refuse unreasonable demands. This whole project is an outgrowth of me getting comfortable with saying “no”. Because of the way our lives in the States (I really don’t know about the rest of the world) are structured, you’re free to refuse anything you wish as long as you can afford the consequences of doing so. I don’t mean Natural consequences like poking and subsequently being eaten by a bear, I mean the truly fucked up shit humans do to each other.
We make a lot of fuss in this country about sex trafficking being morally wrong because people are forced into degrading work against their will with no way to escape, but no one says jack shit about people trapped in dead end jobs with abusive bosses, paid just enough to keep their lights on, but not enough for them to walk away.
Bringing home the introduction, I’m always planning. It’s a reflex at this point. “The Reflex, what a game. He’s hiding all the cards.” Instead of worrying about the hidden cards, I have plans based on all 52. Sure, it eats my mental bandwidth, but there are no surprises.
I just paid off DangerVan. It should have been a joyous moment but was instead annoying because the finance company made it difficult and then asked why I was paying it off early. The only response I could give them was “Because I don’t like owing money to the kind of people who make it difficult to give it back and then ask why I’m doing it.” Modernity is so invasive. Why? Why? Why? Of course, they don’t actually care why if it’s not part of their drop-down menu. They gave me 30 characters under “other” in the why box to give my reason. My reason wouldn’t fit so I went with “nunya”, which was not nearly as satisfying as the truth.
So anyway, I’m 54 and, other than my mortgage, I’m debt free and intend to stay that way. I don’t have “fuck you money” yet, but I do have a plan. It involves food blogging and possibly opening an online sex shop catering to people who have trouble using the standard sexual aids. What? Everyone deserves pleasure, regardless of body type. It’s one of the major reasons I cook.
Contrary to the popular belief that life is about seeking power, control, and domination of your fellow man, life is about each and every individual having a good time and finding their personal happy. If I can help without interfering, I will.
<Sidebar> That totally would have changed “Lord of the Rings”, wouldn’t it? “I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. If by life or by death I can help you get off, I will.” There certainly would have been time for second breakfast in that scenario. </sidebar>
To the pursuit of my personal happiness, this blog and the content contained, I’m trying to plan my next cook. Yes, I have dietary and financial constraints, Rational Hedonism always, but I think I have a plan. I wanted to do something more upscale, but sadly the eggs used in “Benny’s Not Here” broke my budget. Luxury items, cackleberries. Who would have seen that coming? I’m certain it’s just the “bird flu” and not the manipulation of markets. That would never happen.
Anyway…
The plan for this next cook is to go with cheap ingredients, keep it as low calorie as possible, and make it more visually interesting than one pot dishes. Don’t get me wrong, I love my one pot dishes, but I don’t think they are that fun to watch over and over. So, I’ll be breaking out the Instant Pot and working with smoked pork neck bones. Trust me on this. It’s going to be lovely.
Now go cook something.
