The Tragedy of Being Kneady
June 16, 2012 Leave a comment
In “Anecdotal Tales”, stories will be told. Some will be fun, some will not. Some will be great, some will be less so. Some stories are true, some are merely possible. This is one of them.
The Tragedy of Being Kneady
“It is better to deserve honors and not have them than to have them and not deserve them.” –Mark Twain
Olive lived a lonely life. She was always told that she had something unique about her. She tended to be the one that loafed around, never really engaging anyone. Olive tried to bring a bit of herself to the table, but she found that her offerings were often tossed aside. She didn’t seem to fit peoples’ tastes. Time and time again, she felt undesired by all. Whenever she let strangers sample a piece of what she was, she was always met with disgust. Yes, life was hard for Miss Olive Loaf.
There were plenty of foods to be sample at the company barbeque. Not surprisingly, the hot dogs and hamburgers were enjoyed by the masses. There were even a few people that liked a bologna sandwich. Olive, on the other hand, sat untouched by all. Even the man who had gifted her refused to partake. Secretly, Olive suspected that the man had brought her because he had accidentally bought her at the grocery store and wanted nothing to do with her. The sun beat down on Olive and she started to wonder what it would feel like to congeal. Her vacuum packing was still sealed; would that protect her from the heat and the germs? Olive started to think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she developed a case of mold. Then she would at least have some bacteria to keep her company.
The thought of tiny life forms attaching themselves to her made Olive uncomfortable. She looked around at the scene in front of her. Children, complete with their summer-induced freckles and grass stains on their knees were running about in shorts and sandals. The giant rubber slide had been a huge success; parents and children alike were running and diving onto the plastic chute. They laughed as the water drenched them and their friends applauded their speed and bravery. Further down the field, a relaxing game of Frisbee was being enjoyed by a few tired parents and their coordination-challenged toddlers. More often than not, the tiny children would drop and stomp on the Frisbee. Every once in a while though, the adults got their hands on the hardened plastic disk and managed to let it fly softly and lazily through the air. On the very edge sat a cluster of elderly people and several dogs. The older, polo-shirt clad humans sat with their big-brimmed hats and sunglasses as they commented on the youthful folks and all their sundry activities. The dogs, furnished with a water bowl, lay next to each other with just enough space in between them that the fleas and ticks had to touch grass for a moment before hopping onto the next dog. The canines considered scratching the parasites away, but they were so pleased to finally be laying in shade that they decided the effort of lifting a paw wasn’t worth the trouble.
Olive looked at all this longingly. She was free of monosodium glutamate. She had no gluten to trouble those with health concerns. She wanted to cry out, “Why won’t you look at me? I’m all natural!” However she wisely realized there were two obstacles prohibiting her from taking that action. First off, this was a family affair. One simply does not brag about being “all natural” in public; certainly not in front of impressionable young children. Secondly, loaves of meat have no mouths. Olive wanted to cry, but loaves also lack tear ducts.
Olive collected herself, got her emotions under control, and sat there with unmoving resolve. By gum, if any glob of meat mangled and massaged into a slab of food was going to have composure, it was going to be Olive. Olive Loaf was not one to give into despair. She was exactly what she was supposed to be. She wouldn’t question the nature of why, she would simply just be. A defeatist attitude was not going to help matters. No, Olive decided, she would not let the fact that most people found the very of idea of her existence repugnant get her down. She knew someone would appreciate her. Looking out at the throngs of people having a wonderful time, Olive dared to hope that one day she would find someone with a refined pallet.