The Squarespace app now lets me add exercpts, but it isn't letting me edit the published entry. No. Of course not. It occurred to me that the like phenomenon in our language has washed over us like a fierce and unstoppable tsunami. There is no returning to a "before," or a "no more" or "never again." "Like" as a gap filler and world weakener is here to stay. It is in our magazines, our papers, our books, on our TVs, out of our mouths, in our lives, in our minds, apparently, for good. I do not like it.
New category: a pseudo-scientific study of refrigerator contents and expiration dates.
Every once in a while I enjoy a tasty peanut butter and grape jam sandwich. So it was about a week ago. I put two slices of bread on a clean paper plate. Patted them to test their freshness; perfect. I opened our 40 oz. jar of Jif Creamy, and it was very creamy. I stuck the knife down into the creaminess and hauled up a great gob of the stuff, then smeared it on the slice of bread on the right side of the plate. Went back to the jar for a bit more. Good. I got the Smuckers grape jam out of the refrigerator; I had to get a rubber device to help me get the lid off. No one had had any grape jam for a while.
I stuck my long-handled spoon down into the jam and brought forth a major quantity that I then spread over the slice of bread on my left. Before I closed the jar, I licked the spoon. There was an odd taste, not at all like grape jam, but somewhat sweet. I put the spoon in the sink, put the lid on the jar, and picked it up. I turned the jar to find the expiration date. Whoa! "Better by October 2003!" No wonder it had an odd taste. Ah well. Drugs, I read recently, are okay past their expiration dates; how about jam? I didn't see mold or anything like mold on the jam. Given the way the lid stuck, nothing could have gotten in or out recently.
I slapped the jam-covered bread down onto the peanut butter, cut a diagonal line through the sandwich, picked up one half and ate it quickly. Mary said, "You did what?" I said, "I ate it." By that time the other half was gone. Oddly, the sandwich was rather good, but Mary said I had to get rid of the jam. So I did, and since I haven't suffered any ill effects that I have noticed (Mary says, how could I tell?), I assume all is well.
In fact all was so good that I decided to have another PB&J sandwich for supper last night. This time I found a jar of Dickinson's red raspberry jam. I checked the expiration date: 7 February 2014. Still a kid! I saw no mold. I gave it the nose test. It smelled like red raspberries. I dipped and spread it on the bread. Perfect! I put that jar back in the refrigerator, probably until next year, or tonight. Who knows? In any case, the sandwich was very tasty. In fact, I think I'll have another now.