My favorite part of the chicken is the neck.
I know what you’re thinking. There is no meat on the neck. It is hard to eat because of all the stringy things in there. I acknowledge that, and stand by my statement.
Because I have been brainwashed.
You may recall an article I wrote entitled, “The Apprentice“, in which I described the manipulation techniques I used on my toddler. She (the youngling) was learning from me (Yoda), but she still had a long way to go.
If I am Yoda, my dad was Obi-Wan.
You see, we had four boys in the house and my dad didn’t make much money. When we had chicken for dinner, we had exactly one. At some point in our lives, he pulled each of us aside and explained how different sections of the chicken were the absolute best parts, assigning different pieces to each of us.
My assignment was the neck. To this day I covet it.
My father’s real goal was to ensure that his favorite part – the white meat – was left uneaten.
He was the master of manipulation. He was Tom Sawyer and we were the boys who happened along. The chicken was the fence. We did not even realize he had tricked us until long after he had died, discovering that each of us had a different favorite piece of chicken.
I wish I had inherited his skill by the time I entered the Navy, since it would have been an invaluable tool to getting stuff done. (“The Midwatch is BY FAR the best watch to have. You should volunteer to take it. I’ll settle for the 1200-1600 watch.”)
But I didn’t. Now that I am eating drumsticks again, I can only reflect and admire how easily I had been manipulated. It makes you wonder, though, what else he convinced us of.
If I had more time I would ponder that, but winter is here and I can’t wait to enjoy the absolute best part of the season, which, as we all know, is shoveling snow.
