The Bacon Chronicles

Yesterday, my grandson Luca (11+) finished his homework early and came out to the living room, where he sat on the couch across from the chair where I sit, hooked up to my electronic gear, reading, writing, and listening to country music.

He wanted to talk -- about gambling, fishing, the pandemic, and, ultimately, bacon.

A classmate of his had impressed him by bringing real gambling chips, the silver ones, to school one day. "I guess she must have gone to Vegas."

We discovered that we have both visited a certain casino/hotel on the Nevada side of Lake Tahoe, and We recalled you have to walk through the casino to get to the elevators that take you up to your room. We agreed that a kid, say an 11-year-old, would not be able to successfully stop at a blackjack table or a roulette wheel. But we also agreed no one would notice if that kid dropped a chip into one of those slot machines that beckon, row after row, from across the floor.

Next, he told me he's been watching fishing videos nd he showed me one of a guy who travels the world seeking to catch (and release) large fish. In the video the man catches big fish after big fish without interruption. I suggested to him the video may have been edited a bit. He agreed.

He noted that it really didn't matter that they've cancelled school. in this second semester. "We already know what to do, how the system works." But he vigorously protested against the notion they might cancel the fall semester. "They can't do that. I'll be starting a new grade (7th) at a new school with new teachers and students. The fall semester is when we will learn the new system and find out what to do. They can cancel next spring if they want to, but not the fall."

Now I'd skipped breakfast and so had he. "I almost never eat breakfast," he told me.

For some reason we both spontaneously started singing the praises of bacon. His Mom overheard us and said she would pull a frozen pack of bacon out of the freezer and run cold water over it so it would thaw.

We kept talking about bacon until agreed we were both getting rather hungry. It must have been around 11 a.m.

The bacon was soft by now. His Dad came upon the scene and showed us a new (to us) way to cook bacon. You just lay the thin strips of fatty pork on a cookie sheet in the oven, turn the temperature to 450 (no preheating necessary) and set the timer for 10 minutes.

Soon, we were gulping down fresh bacon, scrambled eggs, sausage bits, English muffins, and in my case, coffee.

We had literally talked ourselves into a meal.

Afterward, his Mom returned to collect the bacon grease and add it to a jar of the solid white stuff. "It's as good as butter to cook things with."

I could sense the wheels turning in my grandson's head. "Hey, we could slice it up, package it as 'bacon butter' and sell it to the neighbors!"

His father later told me, "That kid is going to be an entrepreneur. He's always playing the angles."

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