Tongue-In-Cheek … Foot-In-Mouth

My family bought me a traditional charcoal grill for Father’s Day.   My wife was a little apprehensive at first, what with me squirting jet fuel on flames.  But I quickly calmed her fears when I only accidentally lit the dog on fire, twice.  Luckily, I had plenty of wine on hand to douse the dog.  ONLY KIDDING!  I used beer, but NOT light beer.

But, seriously folks, grilling, like no other activity, brings out the caveman in man.  And it’s as dangerous now as it was back in primitive times, especially with me behind the Weber™, because there’s always the potential that I might ignite the neighborhood.  Look, if there is no chance of a mushroom cloud forming over my deck then I won’t play with it, since grunting and grilling men, like me, need five vitally important ingredients for grilling to be considered “official man grilling:” (1) an element of danger, (2) a sharp pointy metal object used to poke meat with, (3) some sort of highly-combustible petroleum product, (4) a flame, and of course (5) beer.  With this combination what could possibly go wrong?   Okay, well, there’s always the occasional smoldering dog.

Now, your standard man likes charcoal grills because they are simple in both design and function which is exactly like a man’s brain.  A charcoal grill is basically a barrel with charcoal on the bottom and a metal grate resting above the white coals.  To prepare the grill you first give your charcoal briquettes a light drenching with gasoline, you light a match, you lean over the grill to make sure the match goes into the grill, you toss the match into the grill, you frantically search for something to draw your eyebrows back on with like, for example one of the kid’s crayons—sure, they’ll probably end up being green, but it’s better than not having eyebrows, I mean how stupid would you look in front of company without eyebrows—you let the coals heat up, you place your hand over the grill to feel if the coals are ready (some people will tell you that if you can ONLY hold your hand over the coals for a count of “three” then the coals are ready, for me, loud screaming and blisters are a good indications the coals are ready) you place the meat on top of the grate, and you grill.

It’s that simple.

Grilling itself is also easy: you take a swig of beer, you turn the steak over, you take another swig of beer, and you turn the steak over.  You keep this up until you pass out and fall face-first into the grill.  And after your friends and family have stripped you of your clothes, rolled you around on the ground while violently whacking at you with shovels, and tossed your sorry butt into the pool, the steaks should be just about done.

Your standard woman prefers stoves and ovens, because stoves and ovens are complicated just like a woman’s brain. Stoves and ovens come complete with knobs, buttons, lights, levers, doors, and you have to understand temperature settings, times, and (gulp) you need to read (shiver) cooking instructions!  Oh, the humanity!   All of which are WAY too advanced for your everyday grunting and grilling man to handle.

Interestingly, as much fun as it is to grill, cleaning up afterwards can be just as entertaining.  I know what you are thinking, you’re thinking men are NOT generally good at cleaning stuff, and men NEVER volunteer to clean stuff.  But men can rinse off his grill using a garden hose, which is fun, or if the fire department is over putting out your dog, you can use their fire hose, which is even more fun.  If only men could clean the house using a fire hose, all that high-powered flushing of pictures off the wall, sofas out of the living room, appliances out of the kitchen, pretty much anything which is not nailed down, to include mother-in-laws, can be rinsed out of the house once and for all.

Although, grilling is a huge source of male-bonding, for not only will you find men huddled over the grills at Home Depot™, you will find men hovering over a grill in the neighbor’s backyard.   And men love to watch other men grill while providing essential cooking instructions to the person grilling, who is easily identifiable from the rest, because he’ll be the one attempting to extinguish his dog with beer.

EXAMPLE

“Billy-Boy, you need to flip them there brauts!  Yee-HAW!”

“Okay, Tommy-Joe.  Watch this here fancy flippin’ technique!  Yee-HAW!”

This is where men and women drastically differ, for women DO NOT like it when other women tell them how to cook, especially in their OWN house.  Of course, I’m using the words “DO NOT like” in the sense that the woman doing the cooking has to have her hands surgically removed from around the neck of the other woman who foolishly told her how to correctly cook in her OWN house.

EXAMPLE

“Sue, you are not boiling that water correctly.  Here, let me show you how to do it.”

“Thanks, Michelle.  You know, you’re so darned helpful, especially when you are giving me cooking instructions in MY house.  Now hold still for a moment so I can slash your jugular with this steak knife.”

Anyway, my wife and I are going to my high school reunion, and I need to draw on my replacement eyebrows.  The only crayon I can find is orange, but it’s better than not having eyebrows.  I mean how stupid would I look in front of the class of ‘82 without eyebrows.