FOSSILS ROCK FOOD

Rocking Fossils love food – tastes, smells – anything delicious – from oysters and succulent beef to home made jam and the smell of bread.  It brings back memories, it makes us smiles – we love it.   A little of anything delicious beats a load of the average.  We could have been French.  Could have been.  But as we – grow up (never give in) – impossible to refer to birthdays – age is a fact to a fossil not a reason or an excuse.  To use it as either would give the wrong impression, might even sound like self help.  Or as a slip on the keyboard might say – self hell. 

Moving on.  But it can happen that we might start thinking about food – furtive glance about – and how it can bother us.  We do not discuss this. Diet is not really a fossil topic. And not even a diet as in being thin – you are or you aren’t.  No rocking at fat club.  But we have a vague sense that some things affect us, and maybe not always in a good way.  We can be really good for ages and ages. But if you rock you love the tastes, the smells, the – just doing it.

All fossils are different – for some bread is a no.  For some wine is a no.  How very unbiblical, how would we have ever been invited to join the Christian church.  For some it is nuts with wine.  For some cheese with wine.  I am seeing a theme emerge here. The side effects are or can be crushing the next day.  It can also be excess – Fossils Rock excess as well as food.

If a space man (quaint 70/80s expression for alien) arrived.  How would we explain wine.  Or as a friend of mine who likes to eat healthily describes healthy food as something not made in a factory or something you wouldn’t need to explain to a native from the jungle.  Fresh whole produce.  I digress.

So back to the space man.  We love you Bowie.  If he arrived.  Ship, flying saucer, tomorrow’s people belt, transporter, Tardis.  Whatever.  And I explained that I ate this stuff.  And showed him bread.  And told him (they are usually a him – maybe we are looking in the wrong place) (ah a feminist space man hunt)(I know the BBC tried) that I ate this stuff. Often with wine.  And I showed him the elaborate and complex creation processes of the stuff.  The endless varieties and types.  And the other substances that can go with them – notably butter, cheese and chips.  And that’s just the wine.

And then told him (her) the side effects.  The space man would pull up his (her) ladder or rev up the engine of craft/belt/phonebox and bugger off.  Thinking that life on this planet is predominantly stupid and why stay.  He might be corrupted.  There is probably a space expression for that.

Apart from frightening off inter planetary cohesion and space union:  why do we eat – let’s say bread, if it is going to hurt.  And why do we drink wine when I know it is possibly going to make us tired, a bit trashed and sometimes sad.

It is a question you don’t ask – you know the answer.  If you have to ask the question you simply won’t understand the answer.  When absolutely starving and usually in a rush, nothing, nothing, beats a white unsliced loaf from which you cut a door step piece, slather in butter (lurpak) and bite.  And I get an after glow from bread.  I won’t say better than sex in case that appears sad.  Certainly, less instant but I digress again.  But within the hour that warm glow of fullness and repletism. Nothing about a salad or especially a crispbread gives it.  I do resist a lot, and I give in less, but I am not cured.  I would be a terrible terrible recovering addict.

Wine – it is more complex.  Or actually quite simple.  Wine is a friend thing.  Wine isn’t a friend (now when you start thinking of wine as a friend we are on a whole different playing field).  Wine is what you do with friends.  The highs the lows the laughs the moments.  The kitchen tables, the dance floors, the dining rooms, beach bars.  Or just beaches.  Or just bars.

So a rocking fossil would say to a space man – do you have friends where you come from.  I would get back there set out your table, load it with what you love.  Call your friends.  Do it.  Tomorrow is another day.  You can conquer the universe later. Let’s enjoy ourselves today.  Universal language of a fossil. Along with – Salud. L’chaim. Sante. 

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