On a lunchtime epiphany

Fried chicken was one of my favorite things growing up.  As a kid, when my birthday came around, inevitably it was a bucket of KFC for dinner; on rare occasions my Mom would make up a batch in her electric fryer. It was a special treat, something to be savored.

Now that I am older (and, really, in some ways dumber), I can have fried chicken well, pretty much whenever I want to.  That's one of the perks of being an adult- I can have ice cream for dinner if I want to!- as well as one of the curses- when you realize why you shouldn't have ice cream for dinner, even if you want to.

In the bio page of this wonderful blog, I mention fried chicken twice, once to describe the fact that I am a bit of a fried chicken snob and once to decry the absence of good fried chicken in the state of Minnesota.

It's safe to say that I have a bit of an obsession with the dish.

This weekend my wife went out of town, which meant I was on my own for dinner for THREE WHOLE DAYS!  Pizza was consumed, Friday night, followed by a homemade chicken carbonara on Saturday.  Sunday was given up to a flip of a coin between Chinese food and, yep, fried chicken.

Chinese food actually won, but the place I chose to try had one guy cooking, waiting tables, and answering the phone and was pretty up front about the fact that I was welcome to eat but it was gonna be awhile.  So, I went and got some fried chicken at a Chester's inside of King Soopers.

I ate my chicken last night and found that it was just kinda, eh, just OK.  I saved a couple of pieces for today, simply because cold chicken can be divine, and again, it just didn't wow me.

And that was when it hit me.  I don't like fried chicken.

Sorry Colonel, it's not you, it's me.  And Minnesota, I apologize.  You certainly can disappoint on the food front,  but I can't honestly say that the fried chicken malaise was your fault.  It can be difficult to face the fact that you have lived a lie for your entire life.

Oh Little Nicky, how I wish you were right

I find it fascinating that even at the age of 41 I still am discovering new things about myself.  Long held tenets are found to no longer be valid.  "My name is Chris, and I like fried chicken" is something that my 10, 20, 30 and even 40 year old self might have said, but now, no longer.

It's said that the only constant is change, and it is a true statement.  I know it is a bit absurd to try to find deep meaning in a fried piece of poultry, but here I am.  It is equally absurd to say that I now feel like a different person than I was a couple of hours ago, but I do.  Because I learned something about myself today.  Not only that I'm opposed to fried chicken, but also that I both still have a lot to learn from this life and that I continue to grow, and not just horizontally.  And I think we all need to be reminded that those last two facts from time to time.  It had been awhile for me.

My name is Chris, and I don't like fried chicken.