Wednesday, 29 July 2009

• A Man, His Grandfather, and a Fish

  This summer I decided to learn to cook.  I figured it was a good thing to do to be self-sufficient.  Between the declining economy, and the fact that I am in college now and will soon have to provide for myself, I figured that this would be a good skill to develop.

  
  

  Tonight's experiment was cooking a 1lb salmon fillet.  I've never had much experience in cooking.  Living with my mom, she did it all, and honestly, it wasn't much.  So when I unwrapped the fish tonight, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.  All I had to go off of was what I had heard friends talk about before, and what I had seen done at the dinner party I went to a few weeks ago.

  I defrosted the fish in the microwave, cut it in half to fit in the container I had to bake it in.  I sprinkled salt, pepper and garlic that I chopped up into bits on top.  I heated the oven to 375 degrees (later decided that was too hot), and stuck the fish in.
  

  After about half an hour, I pulled the fish out to see if it was done.  It was pretty red on the outside, and looked as if it COULD be done, but the inside was still a little fishy (like when cookies go bad), so I cut little slits in the meat so that heat could get inside, and then turned the heat down for a slower, more thorough cook.

  20 minutes later, I decided it was done... I pulled it out, put it on a plate, and ate it!  It wasn't bad... it wasn't AMAZING, but it definitely tasted like salmon that I love to eat, made by anyone else.

  Halfway through eating, I began to think how cool it would be to actually catch the fish myself... clean and cut it myself... cook it myself... then eat it myself (or share!).  I'm sure to plenty people this isn't that big of a deal, but I've never had that experience before.  I used to go fishing with my Grandpa in California, but I was too young to do anything but catch the fish,  and eat it after it was cooked.

  As I thought  more and more about fishing, I started to think more and more about my grandfather.  My biological father left my mom when I was 2, so my grandpa has really been the only adult male influence in my life... and he lives in California while I'm in Washington!  The more and more I ate the fish, the more and more I thought about my grandpa, and the more and more I wanted to talk to him (He's 60 years old, lives in another state, and I don't get to see him much due to the economy).

  So I called him.  I hadn't talked to him in a long time, and I had been hearing rumor that he was feeling awfully lonely and depressed since he retired and finished his huge list of projects (He built half of his retirement house from scratch, and most of the furniture/shelves/etc.).  I think I may have made his day.  He seemed frustrated at first (we played a bit of phone tag), but conversation softened as I told him how I had thought of him.

  To me, this is what makes real men.  The connection between them and their fathers (and grandfathers).  Being self sufficient, and able to support themselves and a family.  Loving and honoring those that came before them, and working towards something meaningful.

  When I hung up the phone after talking to my grandpa, ("Papa Dave"), I started crying.  I love him, and I was reminded of what it means to be an adult, and what responsibilities I have to myself and those around me, as a man.

  I'm submitting this to Mancouch because there has been a lot of posts lately about women... about "who's hotter than who", etc.  Yes, part of being a man is the woman behind him, but we must not forget the men before us who inspire us. The band Bayside said it best in their song "Half a Life":  "I hope one day you understand that a girl on your arm won't make you a man".

  To the Men of Mancouch (and Women):  What men inspire you in your lives?  What are things that you do that makes you think of them?  What are things you enjoy doing with them?

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