Lisa's Rants and Raves
I was chatting on the phone the other night, when my phone partner mentioned that he'd been checking out recipes for zucchini. His reason for doing so was due to his recent acquisition of a zucchini, described as being the size of a human leg.
It reminded me of the following column, which I wrote a while ago. Not only is it appropriate for this time of year but, it saves me, again, from having to pen an original piece—heaven forbid.
This week I simply got carried away with the hideous news concerning Robin Williams. I really didn't think that I could add much, if anything, to the current news cycle so, I present you with this instead.
It reminded me of the following column, which I wrote a year or two ago. Not only is it appropriate for this time of year but, it saves me, again, from having to pen an original piece—heaven forbid.
I did actually change quite a bit of this column, in all honesty, so, it is old, yet new, all at once. This week, I simply got carried away with ad design, because the chief gave me permission to create a certain style of ad that I usually do not design. Check out my work. The finished product, or products, should be under the banner of “Still Serving,” with some shop local jazz thrown in for good measure.
OK, I've digressed, to the max, in an opening, and I shall now shut it. All I can say is this, concerning the following rant: Take cover and look out for....The invasion of the killer squash.
Green baseball bat
- By Lisa Houserman
Lock your doors and windows. Take hold of the family and head to a safe spot in the basement. Once there, you may huddle, whilst trembling and clutching one another for comfort. No, this is not a tornado warning. The real fear is that dreaded zucchini season is upon us.
Prepare to dodge and dart your way around town, in order to avoid the bags, bushels, pounds and tons of those yummy (?) squash-family members. Look over your shoulder, because the horrific green monsters will be pursuing you in high gear.
Planning on a trip to the convenience store? Beware, is all I can say. Example: If you leave the car unlocked, you can be certain that an overabundance of the green invader will roll out to greet you, once you have retrieved your goods.
I know that those green thumbs, among us, lurk in the shadows and know exactly when to pounce, leaving you standing holding the bag. Unfortunately, the bag of which I speak is one brimming with green “goodies.”
I don’t understand why there is such a surplus of this particular agricultural product.
Is it a fruit? Is it a veggie? I’m not too clear on the origins but, I do know that it must have reproductive abilities far beyond the realm of human, or bunny, comprehension.
Why is there so much left over to give? Does “Green Thumb” plant one seed and then several grow uncontrollably, or does he underestimate the multiplication factor of this crop annually?
Zucchini is a conversation starter, or a bonding factor here in the Keystone State. Total strangers become instant friends, all in the name of the green baseball bat.
I secretly shudder—which is most difficult, I might add, every time a well meaning citizen, of this fine region, thrusts the offensive produce in my general direction.
Perhaps you've surmised that I’m not a fan of the bountiful, plentiful and freakishly fertile food? No offense to those who offer it with every fill-up, perm or manicure. Now I shall say something offensive since I just typed in the words “no offense.”
Stop it. I don't want any zucchini, ever. It's very nice of you to tie it to the back of my van, “just married style” while I'm in the bank but, no more. Do you understand me? Whew.
I hope that the readers of this column do not emulate the peeved broccoli growers when Bush Sr. declared that he had an aversion to the “little green trees.”
If I awaken to a security fence of zucchini surrounding my property, I will have to do an imitation of Bam-Bam Rubble, (from the Flintstones cartoon), and come after you with my green baseball bat!
Enjoy your zucchini casserole, zucchini bread, fried zucchini and that zucchini martini on the rocks. I, for one, will be on location, in the basement seeking shelter from...(cue the Vincent Price voice), the attack of the KILLER SQUASH!