Custard Pie

Custard pie: (n) a pie made with custard

Some time ago, back when the only thing open in the middle of the night on a freeway was a truck stop, I was traveling—so sleepy that I decided I should stop at one of these establishments with my friends and get something to eat.

We were in the middle of Dixie.

Apparently had not received the notification that the Civil War had ended—because when we walked in with our long hair—a bit grimy and road-weary—the whole place fell silent.

Just in case you do not understand my meaning, this profile was not selected out of respect, but rather, to communicate shock at seeing “a bunch of hippies,” as they would have called us, stroll into the restaurant.

When I have encountered this kind of prejudice, I’ve always found that the best choice is to stay positive, don’t frown back at them, and keep your conversation within your group. Pretty soon, everybody is eager to get back to their own grits and corn beef hash.

This night was no different.

Except all I really wanted to have was just a piece of pie.

When I think of pie, I have visions of blueberry, cherry, maybe apple—but none of these were available because it was the middle of the night at a truck stop, when most people have turned off all their pie-eating instincts.

The waitress explained that all they had left was “custard pie,” which she said remained because “nobody ever orders it.”

I did. I wanted a piece of pie.

It came, and it was a rather feckless confection—a creamy, white color with just a bit of cinnamon dancing on the top.

I ate it and I loved it.

I treasured it so much that for the next several weeks, I ordered custard pie everywhere I went.

I bought one at a store. It was delicious. Some of these pies were not as good as others, but such is the travail of life. But overall, they had that gentle custard taste, with a hint of vanilla and great sweetness.

I was so enamored with custard pie, I decided to study up on how to make one for myself. I got all the ingredients, put them together, did everything according to the recipe, and ended up with a pie pan that never became solid. It still tasted all right, but it was runny.

I was so disappointed.

I never made nor did I really ever eat custard pie again.

Perhaps that’s a formula for life I should consider.

If I have a vice or if I know of a vice, if I try to do it myself and end up doing it poorly, maybe it will cure me of desiring the vice.

 

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Adultery

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter AAdultery: n) voluntary sexual intercourse between a married person and a person who is not his or her spouse.

Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

Yeah. That should handle it–similar to attempting to conserve oxygen by asking people to hold their breath.

Sex is not optional. It is essential to the human being–not because of the physical release, nor merely because of the intimacy. It is the blending of playfulness with a demand to confirm that we are attractive.

Thus, the reason why the practice becomes common and often distasteful in elongated relationships. Very simply, we remove the danger. We take away the lust and replace it with undying love. And true enough, maybe the love doesn’t die, but all the parts around it do.

Adultery will continue to be popular because people will flirt, and in the process of doing so, will discover they are attractive and instinctively follow up on that, even though later on they may feel guilty or find themselves in divorce court.

What we should be doing is holding seminars on how men and women can get along, be playful, flirt, and even agree to withhold sexual intercourse in order to enhance the spiciness of it instead of continually promoting the idea that the sexes are destructive to one another, suffering from irreconcilable differences.

I get tired of the word “unfaithful.” If we really think that faith is something we can possess without the evidence of works to follow, we are in “dreamy land” and are expressing an erroneous psychology instead of truly understanding human beings.

We lose interest because we’ve stopped being playful, removed the danger, ceased flirting and have passed on the impression that we’re “not quite as hot for each other.”

After all, there’s no such thing as having sex. It’s an awkward, stumbling, childish, foolish, clumsy, delightful, adolescent, jubilant, silly explosion–an accidental decision leading us to roll over on our backs, thinking: “I wonder if I should have done that.”

There’s no reason you can’t keep those elements in a marriage, as long as both parties understand that remaining appealing to one another is not just primping the outer features, but also constantly evolving the inner self.

I think using the term “adultery” is Old Testament. It’s really a fling. Sometimes we try to justify it; most of the time we avoid it.

But no one will be honest enough to say that adultery is inevitable if we allow the communication between each other to come only in one flavor … vanilla.