The Recipe

Once upon a time, in a land not far from here, a family gathering took place. A banquet was laid out with all manner of food and drink. It was, as they say, a “pot luck” dinner, where everyone brought something or other to share. There was much discussion over a particular dish, it gaining laudits all ’round, and much high praise. The people all said it was “A – #1”; and begged the woman who’d brought it for the recipe. She, of course, adamantly refused. That particular recipe, it seems, at least for the moment, made her the center of everyone’s attention – it was, as on so many other occasions, her personal “claim to fame.” No one could pry that secret recipe from her tightly closed lips.

The recipe itself had something to do with;
Ground Beef,
Brown Sugar,
Corn Starch, perhaps, just for thickening.

But we’ll never know the exact ingredients – the truth of the matter, as it were, as she died with her secret still locked away in her head, more’s the pity.

Long, long ago, I read an article in the newspaper about a man who made prosthetic glass eyes. The article stated that he was one of only three people left in the entire country in possession of such a skill, to match correctly the size, shape, and color of an individual human’s eye, out of molten glass no less. Of course, that was a long time ago; so naturally, and in due time, he took his knowledge and peculiar skill to the grave, – lost to mankind forever.

History does not repeat itself – ignorance does. With each squalling baby’s birth, ignorance is born again. And with the death of a man, much knowledge and wisdom is lost. I mourn for this fact. My desire to write is predicated on this: that I’ve had my epiphany and realized how stupid I was (and am); so much so that I became a voracious reader and learned much; but still I mourn that I am unable to impart my knowledge to future generations.

One often wonders why people act like such animals (and worse than animals). It is because we are all born animals; animals that must be tamed.

Culture is communication from one generation to the next. Old heads placed upon young bodies. We have no culture.

About The Twentieth Man

Age 69
This entry was posted in Expository Writing, Plain English and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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