Out of the Archives: The Night We Dined On Caviar

Part II of Out of the Archives. A mini blog series featuring post from the past that never quite made it to being published. Sit back and enjoy! Also, with this mini series comes one FREE subscription per person (Yes, their always free, but apparently people don't think they are because I only have one subscribed follower) and I know how much people like free things, so feel free to push the subscribe button to follow along on more of my stories, journeys and thoughts!

Now, onto the real reason for this post.



 Out of the Archives: The Night We Dined on Caviar
(Originally Written June of 2017)

(Picture taken from the night I caught, gutted, fried and ate caviar, despite the fact that sea-food is my absolute least favorite thing to devour.)

The entire 3 months I was in Greece, there was on song in my mind. It always seems to happen... Just ask anyone. My girlfriends in Iowa will tell you that it is impossible to loose me in a store because I am always whistling, or humming some song over and over {very subconsciously, I must add.} People I was in Oregon, Colorado, or Indiana or just about any where else I've spent extensive time, would probably tell you they couldn't get me to shut-up because I was constantly singing some ditty over and over... The team I went to Jamaica with would tell you the specific song, "Hold My Heart," by Tenth Avenue North, that literally never left my head. And if you ask the people I work with in PA, they would tell you there's never a question of where I'm at, because they can hear me bellowing halfway across the property. And on, and on, and on, with everyone I meet... everywhere I go... I think it must be genetic, or hereditary.. or I'm just weird.

The specific song that was persistently leaving my mouth in Greece was, "The Stars Looked Down," by Rose Betts. And a line or two in that song goes, "Tonight we dine on Caviar, and dance on marble floors..." Although I have never danced on marble floors, I have eaten Caviar.. and it was... weird.
I continue to be baffled by the fact that Caviar is considered a delicacy... I find nothing delicate about it. Its fish eggs. and that is beyond weird.

I compare my 'fancy' time of eating caviar, to other times in my life. I can honestly say, that my caviar experience is rated below 20 on my top 100 experiences of life... which would stump some people who find that a very cool thing to do. To me, i'd rather cook hotdogs over an ashy fire on the top of a rocky mountain, in the pouring rain, and flashing lighting [which actually did happen once] rather than sit in a spiffy restaurant with 20 different forks and tiny portions of unborn fish to eat.

The older I get, the more I can pick out the fine-line differences between different cultures and realities we are raised in. Reality to me is not going and spending the evening in silk gowns, drinking fancy wines and foods, politely chatting where conversation is needed. Where as someone else who has been raised with that, would only expect such a thing. Which is perfectly fine and dandy. For me, my "Caviar Like" experiences, (things that are more reality to me), would be things along the lines of gym shorts, sitting around eating cardboard pizza and having a burping competition. Very different lifestyles. Very different realities. Very different "Caviar Like" happenings... but possible, some of the richest memories.

I am honored to say that some of the best "Caviar Like" memories I have are of precious, spasmodic happenings. Spur-Of-The-Minute hikes on trails that lead to huddling under abandoned structures in the rain, wild times of canoeing that lead to being eaten alive by fire-ants. Last minute motorcycle rides that lead to picture perfect scenery, late night walks that lead to star-tipping AND cow tipping.. The list would never end if I were to continue. But its hard to insert any of those phrases into the song and make it still sound as lovely and elegant as the original. The night we dined on caviar was, overall,  not that grand of a night. But the nights we laughed until our bellies ached and the days we ventured out into life and embraced it by living each second as an adventure, those will be the memories, the lovely and elegant things I remember. Those will be my reality that I always revert back to. Those will be my "Caviar" to an adventure thirsty pallet. And just so you are all well aware, every time I sing that song, I remember some of the richest and fondest memories and smile a little, knowing that happiness can come out of whatever you are given, weather it be caviar, or not.