RESURRECT DEAD ON PLANET JUPiTER

from the archives - busting a nut

Occasionally I dig through my old epinions.com archives for material I’m looking to resurrect. I wrote phony product reviews and advice columns for the site before being blacklisted and having my reviews banned from publication. But seriously, how can you NOT write a phony review on the topic “How To Use Utensils?”

Here’s what I wrote:

If you think you know utensils, just try to bust a nut
Jan 18 ‘01

I never grew up with the privilege of class and etiquette. In the helter skelter days of my youth, TV dinners were the fare of most evenings. It was the 80’s and Vietnam was over. Americas various wars had been forced off the airwaves by an overly cautious Regan administration. Instead we would watch reruns of MASH as we ate our gray Salisbury steaks and instant mashed potatoes. My parents, not fans of doing dishes would rarely allow the family the luxury of eating utensils. I grew up eating only with my hands.

School was of no help to my social development either, as my free lunches included only a spork, the strange mate of a plastic spoon and fork. Many public school kids know the frustration of the spork. With all the rage of a despondent and self-knowingly hopeless child I would stab at my tater-tots and yellowed beans, unable to impale them with the puny convex tines of the pathetic and incapable spork. Once I stabbed at my teacher, Mrs Jones in a desperate cry for attention. Instead I was suspended and subsequently beaten by my father with his trusty hickory switch.

As I grew older my manner of utensil use turned from bad to worse. The knife was the only utensil I knew. The fork and spoon, let alone the pickle fork and swizzle stick were virtually unknown to me. With the knife I would rob, steal and occasionally stab. Only years later did I learn that a direct and forceful thrust of the knife was rarely the in the realm of proper etiquette.

I cleaned up my stabbing ways after a close call with the law. I decided that if my life was to turn around, I would need to learn the proper use of utensils. I began at a uptight downtown cafe. The cafe is a simple place full of simple utensils and snotty etiquette. My observations of fellow cafe goers were perceived as harmless flirtation, not the utensil observation that it truly was. I watched a pretty young lady stir cream and sugar into her hot beverage with an elongated spoon. She smiled to me as she tapped it lightly to the side of her mug. I ordered a cup of coffee and aped the procedure. I noticed a man in the corner shaking his head at me in disgust. He was reading a book entitled “Japanese Emperor-Gods” and wearing a Dallas Stars cap.

“What, sir is the matter?” I asked.

“Anyone who puts cream in their coffee is morally questionable.” He responded.

“I was just practicing the employment of this here spoon.” I said. “Was my application of the utensil inappropriate?”

“No, you used it just fine.” Spoke the frightening man as he spread what appeared to be orange marmalade onto a rough piece of a baguette with a wide, flat knife. “I just think anyone who puts cream in their coffee is a despicable human being.”

“Well all right then, duly noted. May I try a piece of bread?”

“Sure.” Spoke the hideous stranger as he daintily passed me the marmalade and bread.

The cafe was a prime place of learning for proper utensil use. I ate salads and soups. I used the tea spoon, to retrieve the tea bag from the steeped tea. I spread jellies, jams and cream cheese on breads, bagels and croissants. What a wonderful place to learn utensil etiquette! The cafe proved to be a big step in the right direction.

But it all came crashing down a short time later. At a dinner party with a friend from the posh cafe I found myself faced with a bowl of assorted nuts. I watched as the goateed fancy boys retrieved the meat from within the nuts with a casual squeeze of the nutcracker utensil. They joked and sipped wine, always holding from the bottom of the stem as to avoid warming the liquid within the bowl of the glass. The nut procedure looked simple enough. I decided to make an attempt.

Strolling over to the nuts, I picked up the nutcracker and turned it in my hands. Powered by the force of a simple lever, I found a space, near the crook of the device grooved so as to hold a nut. Yes, this would be a simple task, I thought to myself. I chose a walnut. It fit awkwardly into the nutcracker. It did not much fit in the grooved ridges at all. I was forced to place the bulk of the walnut somewhat above the ideal center of nutcrushing force. But this was my nut.

I was determined to bust a nut at this party, and bust a nut was what I was to do. Winking to a female partygoer, I squeezed my nut in my palm. I squeezed my nut harder, I could feel my face turning red under the overexertion. I couldn’t believe how hard my nut was. I held my nut in close to my body, squeezing in frustration, anticipating the feeling of release which was sure to wash over me, once I had busted my nut. I needed to master my utensil and I knew I would not be able to do so until I learned to bust a nut when I wanted, where I wanted and how I wanted. But the current situation was becoming quite embarrassing.

My nut slipped from my grip and rolled to the floor. When I looked to find it, I found my nut in the hand of a beautiful woman. She palmed my nut, gently rolling it back and forth across her fingers.

“Do you need some help with this?” She asked while gently stroking my nut with her thumb.

“Sure, I am having a bit of trouble with this.” I spoke timidly.

She grabbed a hold of my hand and held it out, slipping my nut into the nutcracker.

“Now squeeze like this.” She said as she squeezed my hand in hers. I felt my nut giving way under the immense pressure.

And then it happened. I busted my nut. My nut flew everywhere, into the air, into the punch, onto other party goers. I even got some of my nut in the helpful woman’s eye. She held her face, laughing, not angry. She said to me:

“Now there you go, was that so hard?”

Since then, I have learned the whole gambit of utensils. If ever you need to learn how to use a untensil may I suggest going to a cafe or a party. Observation is key. Utensils are easy. Well that’s it.