American Thighs (24 page)

WHISK TOGETHER
1 cup dark brown sugar, 1/2 cup oil, 1 running-over teaspoon vanilla, and 2 eggs. Then, in another bowl, mix together 2 cups all-purpose flour, 2 teaspoons baking powder, 1 teaspoon cinnamon, 1 teaspoon nutmeg, 1/2 teaspoon allspice, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. To that, add 2 big giant sweet potatoes—either baked or boiled—and mashed. I suppose you COULD use canned ones, but it kinda makes me gag to think about. Add your egg/sugar mixture to all of that and stir it up without beating it to death. Put it in greased muffin tins and bake for about 25 to 30 minutes at 350°F. (If you want to, you could add 1/2 cup raisins or 1 cup pecans. I'd go with the pecans—not a big fan of raisins in stuff, but that's just me.)

 

Okay—I have got two pieces of life-altering good news for you now. First, I am gonna tell you how to make TEXAS CORN
BREAD, which you may or may not thank me for in the long run on account of it is addictive and you may be the SIZE of Texas before too long. I do not know WHY it is called Texas Cornbread—there is no cornmeal in it—it has nothing to do with cornbread as we know it—but that is what Miss Red, granny of Queen LuAnne Berlin, called it, and we are not about to start arguing with Miss Red. We are too busy adoring her. (Note: This is, and will probably remain, the ONLY recipe I have EVER endorsed that actually contains LIGHT brown sugar. You KNOW how I feel about it from earlier books, and thus, you KNOW just HOW good this must BE—for me to be willing to use the stuff.)

Texas Cornbread

MIX ALL THIS
in a bowl: 1 cup plain flour, 1 cup self-rising flour, 1 packed cup LIGHT brown sugar (yuck, but trust me), 1 cup white sugar, 4 eggs, 1 cup vegetable oil, 2 cups chopped pecans, and 1 running-over teaspoon vanilla. Put it into a greased 10 by 14-inch pan—the size of the pan matters—I bought this size especially for this recipe. Bake at 350°F for about 20 to 25 minutes, then rotate the pan and bake it for a few more minutes.

The baking time is tricky and important so watch it closely. Your oven may have it done in 20 minutes—in which case, skip the turning and additional oven time. I cook mine for 20 min
utes exactly. You want it to be kinda chewy, so you don't want to overcook it. It is GOOD even if it is overcooked—there still won't be any leftovers—but when it's chewy, whoo-lard! You just can't believe how good it is. And it's real sneaky. You take the first bite and you just kinda acknowledge that it's pleasant-tasting—but then it sorta wakes up something on your tongue and you get that second bite, and from then on you're like a bed of bream on a bucket of crickets—just thrashing around, trying to get more and eating it as fast as you can, and you can't quit until it's gone.

 

The OTHER thing I'm gonna share with you is the GREAT GOOD NEWS that you can ORDER Texas Cornbread and a whole big pile of other YUMMY STUFF—and have it SHIPPED DIRECTLY TO YOU by Queen LuAnne and her Spud Stud, Craig. Unfortunately, Miss Red has passed on—but luckily she entrusted LuAnne with all her recipes, so Miss Red's Place—and we—are saved. LuAnne allows as how she has THE CUTEST FEDEX GUY EVER and so she hopes you order lots and often.

I don't know how they do it—the prices are UNBELIEVABLE—so order a bunch right away before they figger out they are practically GIVING THIS STUFF AWAY! I'm telling you, a GALLON of lobster bisque is $26—sausage balls are 60 for $16—TWO of Craig's Favorite Meatloaves are $22. Log on to www.missredsplace.com and Lu will send you a full menu. You may never cook for yourself again—at these prices, why would you?!

I
've seen that written, I've heard it said, I've seen it happen to others, and believe me, I've experienced it in assorted very personal ways. It sucks.

I could just say “The End,” I suppose, and that would sum it up for some folks. But those are the folks who were more than likely F-F-F-F-F-T after FIFTEEN. They were joyless then, have been joyless ever since, and will remain joyless until they finally do just fizzle completely on out, like the fuse on a dud firecracker.

For those of us who prefer to think of all that f-f-f-f-f-ing as our SIZZLING sound—building ever hotter and higher, right
up to our last big crashing KA-POW!—well, let's take a look at some of those
f
's.

Faith. This is a big one for me. I recommend it to you highly. I know people with lots—know people with none. In my observation and experience, shit happens to everybody. The faithful aren't immune but they sure do seem to fare better. It's not what happens to us in our lives that determines who and what we are—it's the choices we make about how to deal with it that forms our character.

Frying. No, I don't think it's second in importance only to faith—I just thought it would be funny to put it there. Funny is important to me, too. Not that frying is UNIMPORTANT to me—I am fairly fond—perhaps foolishly so—of flavorful fried foods. But frequently frequenting fabulous fried feasts will mean farewell forever to foxy fashions and finery and finally force us to face famine in order to fight the fat.

Family. We don't get to choose the families we're born into. Some of us are incredibly lucky with this—some of us are real-life Waltons. Some of us had childhoods that seemed like never-ending nightmares. But they did end. No matter how bad your childhood may have been—IT IS OVER and what you do with the REST of your life is totally up to you.

Faith. Family. Friends. Failure. Forgiveness.

We all fail from time to time. We fail at school, we fail at work, we fail our friends and families in countless ways, big and small. There is just so much to learn in life. And it's like taking
tests in school—often you don't really know if you learned anything or not until the test is over, and sometimes then it is too late to get credit for the course.

Relationships are like that, I think. You go along with this person or that and you think you're understanding it—all seems well until there is a big test—a pop quiz—and you didn't know it was coming and you sure didn't know it was gonna count for 99 percent of your grade—and before you know what hit you, you have flat failed the class.

Failing AT something—anything—does NOT make YOU a failure. God made you and He made you just the way He intended to make you and He doesn't make any trash. Whatever happens to us, no matter what we do—That Person—who God made—is still right there and it is never too late for That Person.

The good news is that we can start over anytime, at any moment, and choose to do something different, something better. This won't erase the pain our failure caused us or others, but it does make way for forgiveness in the future. What the world needs now—besides love, sweet love—is a whole big lot of forgiveness.

Forgive it—whatever it is—forgive it—and forget it—hold fast to the lesson you learned from the pain, lest you repeat your mistake—but forget the pain. Forgive others—even if they don't forgive you. Forgive yourself—even if others don't forgive you. Their lack of forgiveness says much more about them than
it does about you, and by the way, it's not your problem or your business.

A word about getting fired—that's a really scary
f,
and usually our first reaction to it is fear and a sense of failure—more bad
f
's. But I believe, and it has been my own experience, that what it really is offering us is a chance to move forward—if we will just LOOK for the opportunity. We are finally free of what was a bad situation—and something fabulous is just waiting for us.

When my daughter was little bitty, I was divorced, left heavily in debt by someone else's unquenchable desire for cashmere socks and racing tires, taking care of my sick mother, working full-time as a personal trainer, and writing for three different newspapers—just to keep our heads slightly above the rising water—when, with no warning, one of the papers dropped my story—because the new editor felt that I was “not funny.” I freaked.

I was not only out the money that I very desperately needed—but I was insulted on a very personal and vulnerable level. Writing was one of the very few things I believed I was actually good at—and this guy not only felt otherwise, he felt it strongly enough to flat-out FIRE me, with no warning or chance to change to suit him.

Fortunately, I needed the money badly enough that I did not have the time to indulge myself in the luxury of self-pity—I had to get off my ass and find a way to replace that three hun
dred dollars a month—or the home fires would be fizzling out very soon. That was the ONLY reason I EVER pursued a book deal. Had I not been fired, I would have continued working four jobs—and just been happy that the ends were meeting.

That pretty much covers the
f
's—and do take note of the one Big
F
I am intentionally leaving out because this is a Serious Moment, but just for the record, I hope you do a lot of it, in a very loving way, on account of it's good for your complexion and it's especially good for your disposition, and that helps everybody, doesn't it?—so do it for yourself, your partner, your community, your country, and the world!

And that leaves us with the one, solitary
t
at the end of our “f-f-f-f-f-t.” What's that
t
for? Could be for
trouble.
You get to decide if you want to HAVE trouble—or if you want to BE trouble, and I mean that in a good way, of course. Somebody sent me this the other day and I love it—I've looked for the person who originated it, but so far nobody's claiming credit: “Live life in such a way that every morning when your feet hit the floor, the Devil says, “OH, SHIT! SHE'S UP!”

We have a T-shirt on our Web site that says, “LIVE EVERY DAY LIKE YOU'VE GOT ALL DAY TOMORROW TO APOLOGIZE!” And by that, I'm not endorsing irresponsible and/or inconsiderate behavior. What I want you to do is HAVE SOME FUN. Failure to Frolic is a major cause of regret later in life; so, if you're behind on it, CATCH UP.

Tantalize
is a most excellent
t
word. What a delight it is to
be tantalized by something—anything—new shoes, big wads of chocolate, your lover. Possibly even more delightful to BE tantalizing, huh? Take time to tantalize today!

And I think that's what the
t
has got to be for: it's for TODAY—because no matter who you are, no matter what you are, whatever your faith or lack thereof—TODAY is all there is, for any of us.

I recently heard Amy Grant speak—and it was every bit as moving as hearing her sing, which is saying a lot. She said that she had tried over the years, with all good intentions, to set aside daily time for devotional reading and study. She had amassed all manner of books and tapes and whatnot for this purpose but they just gathered dust as the TIME just never seemed to make itself available.

Then she was struck by one verse in her Bible—Psalm 118:24—“This is the day that the Lord hath made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” And she found her daily devotional. She goes outside with her morning coffee, and in the still quiet, she looks around and says the verse over and over, varying the emphasis each time—THIS is the day, This IS the day, This is THE day, etc.

Please take note that the verse says “THIS” is the day—meaning TODAY—the one we are in right now—it does NOT say “YESTERDAY” was the day—although He did make it but it no longer matters because it is O-VER. It does not say “TOMORROW” is the day—although, if tomorrow does, in fact,
show up, it will be because the Lord made it, too—but so far He has not committed to it so that's a crapshoot—TODAY is what we got—it is ALL that we've got and it is enough. Be Thankful for it—another
t
word worthy of note—and Trust (yet another one) that whatever you need will be there for you.

No matter what you put your faith in—from AA to Zen—you will find that you are called, exhorted, encouraged, and/or commanded to BE HERE NOW. So now I'm telling you that as well: you are FABULOUS, just as you are, right NOW, and you HAVE this wonderful day—so go freely forth, have fun—IT IS TOO LATE TO HAVE A BETTER PAST—what you do TODAY is all that matters. Then, if it turns out that you DO get a tomorrow, if you've done a bunch of good stuff TODAY, you will have created a new and better past for yourself, if you're still determined to dwell on it.

F-F-F-F-F-T AFTER FIFTY—FINE BY ME! I am from the generation that decreed “NEVER TRUST ANYBODY OVER THIRTY.” When we said that, it sounded so cool and sophisticated—imagine our surprise when we found OURSELVES in that untrustworthy group. Over the past few decades, we have seen the error of our ways, we do heartily repent, and now we have THIS to say: “NEVER TRUST ANYBODY OVER EIGHTY-FIVE!”