master of the grill

When I was 14 I ate BBQ for a whole summer. It wasn't as much fun as it sounds; we grilled out just about every day, because my parents could not pay the electric and gas bill. By the third week, I was sick of the taste of charcoal and the smell of bbq smoke. It was a smell that I couldn't shake and it stayed with me all day every day. Anything you can think of, my mom threw it on the grill. I had bbq sausage for breakfast, and bbq chicken for dinner. BBQ pork chops, grilled corn and eggs cooked over an open fire--it actually sounds a bit romantic. In retrospect, my parents were pretty creative with some of the stuff they came up with on that grill. At least we were eating.

For years I couldn't eat at a bbq or cookout without feeling a sweet nostalgic sadness inside. It was just one of those reminders that sometimes life plays cruel jokes on you and brings bad memories back in the midst of a good time.

The weather in Memphis has finally settled down. The air is warm and the sky is blue. Green grass is now creeping in and gaining the advantage on the dormant brown blades that were marking time all winter. It's my favorite time of year. Yesterday I fired up the grill for the first time this year. I sipped rum and coke, and two-stepped to Michael Jackson from time to time. The kids came in and out asking, "is the food done?"

I cannot pinpoint the day, but at some point grilling out became something that I love to do for my family. Maybe it was when I figured out that they look forward to it. I mean, they really look forward to it. I know that they like to eat...that's a given. And my grilling skills get better every year, so I know the food is good. But there's something else. It's a look on their faces, and something about it that makes Lori relax a little bit more than usual. Maybe it's because they know it's a good day, because I'm happy and have time to stand over a fire for several hours. When you have as many people in a house as I do, you remember the times when everyone is in a great mood.

Every once in a while something stirs up memories of childhood. The funny thing about having kids is that the significance of the memories changes for me as the kids get older. Some of the things that used to give me the blues now give me a feeling of victory. So yesterday when I opened up the grill and the smoke enveloped me, I thought of that BBQ filled summer when I was a boy. I thought about how hard it was and how much I wanted things to be normal for our family. Then I looked over to my right, and behind the glass screen door to the kitchen stood Baby D, smiling at me. I smiled back at her, because I felt like I had overcome something major. I had just created a memory. Things come full circle when you least expect it.

holding out

Outside in the driveway today, Pog (my 7 year-old son) and I stood side by side washing our family cars. He was in a pair of rolled up jeans and a Grizzlies jersey, barefoot. At seven years old and all of three feet tall, he was responsible for washing and drying the bottom portion of the cars. As expected, I ended up going over everything he had done, but what's important is that he was out there with me working...voluntarily! Sweet Jesus...the boy may actually like to work.

Anyway, at one point I was washing my rims (no not the cool rims that I want...factory Saturn rims) and I said to Pog, "you know I used to work at a car wash in high school." He looked confused...like he was trying to put pieces of a puzzle together.

"I didn't know that" he said. It was genuine. It had a tone like, "why have you been holding out? I'm supposed to know this about you by now."

It was a great indicator for me that my kids feel like they know me. An even better indicator that they are always interested in learning more. I wonder how long this lasts?