True Confessions
This morning, while I was watching the news, I saw a commercial for fish sticks.
I haven't had fish sticks in at least 20 years. In fact, I think it's been more like 30 years, because I don't recall ever making them for Jobe.
But I saw this commercial for fish sticks, and suddenly, I wanted fish sticks. Bad. Like OCD for fish sticks.
And nothing would do until I went to the store and got fish sticks. Not the makings for home-made, haute cuisine, highly stylized fish sticks, oh no. Mrs. Paul's frozen fish sticks. And frozen french fries and white corn to go with them.
Kid food, doused with ketchup and tartar sauce.
They're smaller than I remember. And they changed the bread crumbs somehow.
But I ate them with great enthusiasm, and I am now full.
Slightly embarrassed, but having had my fish stick frenzy sated for...oh, maybe another 30 years.
Or maybe we'll have them again next week.
Let's live dangerously, shall we?
I haven't had fish sticks in at least 20 years. In fact, I think it's been more like 30 years, because I don't recall ever making them for Jobe.
But I saw this commercial for fish sticks, and suddenly, I wanted fish sticks. Bad. Like OCD for fish sticks.
And nothing would do until I went to the store and got fish sticks. Not the makings for home-made, haute cuisine, highly stylized fish sticks, oh no. Mrs. Paul's frozen fish sticks. And frozen french fries and white corn to go with them.
Kid food, doused with ketchup and tartar sauce.
They're smaller than I remember. And they changed the bread crumbs somehow.
But I ate them with great enthusiasm, and I am now full.
Slightly embarrassed, but having had my fish stick frenzy sated for...oh, maybe another 30 years.
Or maybe we'll have them again next week.
Let's live dangerously, shall we?