Licorice and other disgusting topics...

Those of us lucky enough to grow up in the 50's were blessed with a cornucopia filled with TV westerns. (Notice how I used the word 'cornucopia' to tie in today's holiday with my story?!) We watched Gunsmoke, Rawhide, The Rifleman, and the list could go on. In all of these the story would occasionally lead to the main character standing around the general store talking to the wise and sage-looking store owner. Try to remember and you'll agree that in every situation one or two boys would wander in and be given a stick or two of licorice. As soon as they had the licorice in their hands they would bolt from the store and we would assume those boys were stuffing that licorice into their mouths and loving every minute of it. In The Rifleman, Luke would always ride into town to kill some bad guy. In these cases, because he was a good and loving father, he would leave his son, Mark, back at the ranch where he wouldn't have to witness such mayhem. When he returned, Mark would always run up yelling, "Pa, Pa!" You would think Luke would realize at some point his son really worried about him going into town to kill bad guys. Anyway, Luke would climb off his horse and toss Mark a bag of licorice. Mark would thank him and immediately run off to the barn. We assumed Mark wanted to gobble down that licorice in privacy. Good stories...good memories....however, after watching this story repeated several times, I was convinced licorice must be the best thing to ever be allowed by law. I think I was eight the first time I had a chance to taste this stuff. Momma had given me dollar or so to ride my bike down to the Worth Food Store on old highway 183 in "downtown" Hurst. She needed milk and bread and told me if there was at least a nickel left I could have it. There was exactly one nickel left after picking out the milk and bread so I grabbed up a package of licorice. I couldn't wait to get home to taste that glorious stuff....and I was afraid if I waited to get home with it I would have to share, so I opened it up to eat on my way home. I remember I took a tiny little taste and chewed on it as I rode down the sidewalk past the Woolsworth and Myers department store. I couldn't figure out what all the excitement was about so I figured I better take a bigger bite. As I went around the corner and past White's Auto, my whole world came apart. I have never in my life experienced a more awful taste. It was kind of like scooping up a mouthful of melted tar off the road on a hot summer day and sticking in your mouth. By the time I made it to the next corner of the block I was spitting and coughing. I threw the rest of my nickel prize in the weeds next to a street lamp and rode on home nauseous and disappointed. Now the rest of the story is this: I made that same trip to Worth Food Store for my Momma for several years. Every time I rode past that street lamp, I would stop and dig around in the weeds until I found that licorice. It always looked exactly the same...never eaten, melted, or dissolved. I think it must have been road tar. I've thought about this a few times when I've gone past that street lamp in my old pickup. I wanted to stop and dig around in the weeds but I figured the neighbors would call the police about an old fat man acting strangely outside their windows. Now that I'm older and wiser, I am very watchful about what I eat. If it isn't absolutely filled with fat and sugar I avoid it. In deference to Debbie's pleas and the doctor's warnings, I am trying to eat more healthy food. This morning I looked through the kitchen to find something light and sugar free. I found plain yogurt, bran, and prunes. I mixed the three together and had one bite. Fortunately, I'm way to mature to start spitting all over the place. I calmly walked to the bathroom. Thank goodness for mouthwash. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! The Lord has blessed us all.