I have been the butt (if you’ll pardon the expression) of many jokes simply because I was determined to fix a clogged toilet. Which I did successfully. Then I became obsessed with making perfect mango lassi. Which I did successfully, only to be referred to as Mango Man.
But my obsessions are nothing compared to son-in-law Britt’s total Fry-Machine-Flip-Out (FMFO). He found a DeLonghi fry machine among the kitchen equipment here in our rental house in Charlevoix. He then started to dream about the machine and possibilities connected to it. He reminded me of the guy who lurks in the high school hall, hoping to get a look at the pretty girl from English class. One quick glance from her will fire his imagination. Let’s say this. The DeLonghi glanced at Britt.
His first idea was onion rings. We heard that for hours. Then he started to talk about fried fish. His dinner idea was forming. Fried fish and fried onion rings, with cole slaw to make sure it was a perfectly balanced meal. He was crazed. He proposed fried apple fritters for dessert. Fruit to further balance the dinner. Off to the store he went. A gallon of vegetable oil, corn meal and flour for batter, buttermilk, white fish (local) and apples.
The dinner was – to put it simply – wonderful. He earned both our respect and a rest. But by then the FMFO owned him the way heroin owns its junkies. After the dinner clean-up he fired up the fry machine again. He fried (this is not made up): some sort of donuts he created using pancake/ waffle mix and some cinnamon sugar; an ice cream sandwich that Lisa told me not to eat, after spitting her piece out in the sink; some candy bars; more apples.
Britt’s a fine man. Loving and generous. We have lost him to an addiction for which there is no known treatment. Like Borderline Personality Disorder, FMFO cannot be treated with either talk therapy or medications. Britt will now live life with his disease until he dies. The best we can do – those who love him – is search for counseling so we don’t become co-dependents to his tragic illness. How we will get through these final days is a mystery.
Oh yeah, this is supposed to be a travel blog. Overcast early with low-humidity and wonderfully sunny cloudless skies towards the end of Wednesday. A sail boat race on Lake Charlevoix took place right in front of us. The smell of frying was in the air.
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