Basel is not world renown for the best fests in the neighbourhood. But if you can host a Euler Hotel, you are destined for better things. The Fall fair is the staple of middle Canada as much as corn and that revolting concoction known as Pumpkin Pie. Pie! It’s supposed to be sweet. Dessert. Savoury and satisfying. Not the look of baby KaKa, and the consistency akin to play-dough.
Lets run the numbers, cuz’in’ I know you all love when I do that. One pie pumpkin, $1.00 retail. Not the Homer grown kind. Yield, 9 cups of usable flesh. No skin off my pie. One shell of flour water and fat, $0.85. Hopefully Hydro generated electricity, $0.07 per Kilo Hour Ohm, 687 Hour Ohms used, $0.04809 total cost per pie. Sundry waste spices left over in your spice cupboard long since amortized.
9 cups of Pumpkin makes 3.45 pies. $2.9325 for shells, $0.1659, for power. $4.0984 for 3.45 pies paying retail for everything. $1.19 a piece rounding up for the simple. Now you tell me that the Pie Factory can’t make this atrocity for half that? Should be selling for $0.69 at the corner store.
To top it off you can’t spoil this stuff. Shelf stable for over a year and with no loss in quality, you just’a gotta put an expiry on it. Nookular fallout be damned. This stuff staves off excessive REM s. You are out there slogging about in your lead laden suit and along comes Joe munching on a decade old P’Pie with none of the side effects. Nope it’s not on my menu. Spread your wings over the field of agent orange and muster your largest Pigeon dropping on those Pie Pumpkins. Short of frozen Pumpkin bowling, these gourds are out of their own! Thick skin blobs making driving hazardous on driveways around the country.
Now Ferris of the Bueller drove for miles with impunity in a Ferrari, dusting caution to the wind and not a Mia Sara complaining about wind in the wires or cross-fired plug nickels under the hood.
No longer is the Ferris the wheel in the Fall Fairs. They have swinging falling twisting rides that make that wheel of fortune for the Carney’s more obsolete than the cable operated brakes in a Polish second world war half track. Not more interesting than climbing a ladder, and a lot less entertaining than the Bueller type. This is a story of the little guy making the Man pay. Making the establishment crane their neck, incurvate at the knees, crack like corn on the hot pan of oppression.
You can Buell how you wish with the P’pie just don't offer it up at my fest. Gourd yourself on all the American stand-bys you wish. Alamode or with cheese. Cuz in the end you know that Apple Pie without the cheese is like a hug without the squeeze.
Mark Hull Du Calumet, first of the coterie of York, Son
of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman
to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler.
Sounds like you need a day off ....
just relaxing and listening to some smashing pumpkins.. perhaps
Posted by: nancy mcd | 09/13/2009 at 05:29 PM
Hmmm, Smashing idea my dear! Wow and I did have a day off! And lil sip of Single Malt Scotch on the side. After all, its the beverage of Fall!
Bottoms up!
Posted by: The Coffee Guy | 09/15/2009 at 08:13 AM