To me, the way to tell if something is anything is that it sticks with you.

A week after seeing a movie, do you find yourself thinking about it?  When you’re standing in line at the gas station are you wondering how the heroine in your book will extract herself from the seemingly inextricable predicament?

In 1987 I saw a film called Angel Heart.  Starring Mickey Rourke and Lisa Bonet, it almost literally scared the crap out of me (almost, I said).  We saw it at the old South Square mall.  Because Petey met me there, we each had our own car.  Driving home by myself was absolute torture.  I was so frightened I could barely breathe.

Almost 30 years later I still think about that darn movie.  It still makes me shiver.  I’ve seen scary movies, but I’ve never seen a film that has gotten under my skin the way this one did.

The best television series that’s ever been on is called “Homicide, Life on the Street”.  It’s a cop show set in Baltimore which ran from 1993-1999.  I haven’t seen an episode in a few years but I still think about it.  I can tell you all the characters names, and even the names of some of the victims.  In my opinion, Robin Williams did his very best work as a guest star on it.

I recently read about a game called Four Foods of the Apocalypse.  And not only can I not stop thinking about it, even Petey, who could in no way be called a foodie, got a little caught up in it.

The rules are simple.  The world has turned upside down.  You luckily survived it, and are living in your own home.  You have a magic refrigerator, which contains an unlimited supply of salt, pepper, oil, flour, and sugar.  Your task is to pick four other foods to eat for the rest of your life.  They must be simple ingredients, not composed foods—cheese, not cheeseburgers, cabbage, not cole slaw.

I have three of the four set—I think.

Eggs.  I absolutely love scrambled eggs.  Also, they are one of the most versatile foods on the planet.  They’re in anything from pasta to cookies, frittatas to mayonnaise.

Lemons.  With no spices or herbs, lemon would be my only flavoring agent.  I could use juice, zest, and using the salt, make preserved lemons.  Besides, you can’t make mayo without lemon.

Ghirardelli milk chocolate chips.  Because, chocolate.  Also, it’s already the Apocalypse, I certainly don’t want to make things worse by going around killing people because I’m Jonesing for a candy bar.  Chips are extremely versatile, and Ghirardelli make the best.  It’s odd, though.  Not one chef on the list picked chocolate—even the females.

This is where it gets muddy.  I’ve got a few ideas, but I can’t seem to settle on one thing.

Potatoes.  Mashed, hash browns, home fries, and potato salad.  Baked potatoes to keep my hands warm, Little House on the Prairie-style, then eaten.  Almost as versatile as eggs, I could eat them every day for a month, and never the same way twice.

Bacon.  It’s almost worth it, just for bacon and eggs alone.  But then you get all that glorious bacon fat.  It also brings all kind of flavor to the party.  Who amongst us isn’t happy biting into a perfectly crispy slice?

Spinach.  Something nice and green for the end of the world.  It can be eaten both cooked and raw.  Dried I could add it to pasta dough.  Plus, it’s just pretty to look at.

Tomatoes.  With flour and water, I could make sourdough starter; thus I could have bread.  With eggs, oil, and lemon I can make mayonnaise.  I’ve got salt and pepper on hand.  Two words—tomato sandwich.  I think that it is the one thing that might make me forget I’m living in Mad Max times.

So it’s not just the fact that I’ve got air conditioning, libraries, and toilet paper.  Being made to choose only four foods to eat ‘til the end of time would make me terribly cranky.

This game not only makes me think, it also makes me grateful for what I’ve got.

Thanks for your time.