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Dr demento fish heads11/3/2022 ![]() His real first name is Barry, for heaven’s sake. Middle-aged, native of Minnesota, married to the same woman for decades, fascinated by bald eagles and railroad trains. Incidentally: Although known for wacky novelty and comedy records, Demento was (and probably still is) the most ordinary guy I’ve ever met. Also to score some fish heads for a photo shoot, a nod to the “ Fish Heads” song that Demento liked to play. I was a reporter for the Anchorage Daily News and it fell to me to interview him. Years ago the good doctor was in town to perform at the late, lamented Fly By Night Club. Demento around the city of Anchorage, Alaska. Since I prefer the dark meat, I cut up the turkey breast and froze it to use in future pots of chili.Īnd as I worked, I kept giggling at the memory of the day I spent driving Dr. I cooked rice because I had no potatoes, and a side dish of corn. And lightning did not strike, even though I completely desecrated the memory of long-ago turkey dinners. ![]() I just do, that’s all.įinally, finally, I listened to the rational lobe. I have to do things the way they’ve always been done.A woman’s worth is defined in terms of her service to others.Slowly, slowly I’m starting to rethink what I always, deep down, believed to be true. But the irrational lobe of my brain has had a lot more practice. Until I could do that, the bird would stay on ice. ![]() The only way to serve turkey is with a platoon of side dishes and desserts. Hang in there.)įact is, I’d imprinted on all those years of watching and helping as my mom churned and burned in the kitchen. Wonder what we’d all be eating on Thanksgiving if he’d had his way? Eagle drumsticks, anybody? I’m not sure why, since they all have faces.īen Franklin once suggested, possibly in jest, that the turkey would make a much better national bird than the eagle. Now it’s the go-to protein for people who are grossed out by meat but still yearn for hot dogs and “bacon.” Somehow it’s easier to eat a bird than a pig or a cow. Once upon a time, turkey was a holiday dish. The irrational part of my brain immediately shouted back: Impossible! There’s only one way to make a turkey! A gut-busting occasion The rational part of my brain piped up: What if I just ate it myself, with whatever I have on hand? Rice, maybe, and a side vegetable? ![]() Having dinner guests would mean that I’d need to clean the apartment and wear something other than sweatpants and my caulk-stained “Anchorage Daily News Health & Safety Committee” T-shirt. I already had a can of pumpkin on the shelf and I had baking chocolate in the freezer for brownies, but I’d need whipped cream or vanilla ice cream – or both – to go on the desserts.Īnd if I were going to make that much food I should invite people over. Yeast to make rolls, apples for applesauce. Onions and celery and white bread for the stuffing. I’d have to buy potatoes, a couple of other vegetables and some cranberry sauce. Why? Because a turkey dinner is such a production. ![]() I stashed the 10.58-pound bird in the freezer. I’ve paid more than that for a soft drink at a ballpark. But the bird was on sale for 25 cents a pound. Yes, I know the difference between root vegetables and edible fowls. Since the article has a Thanksgiving theme, sort of, I thought I’d re-run it in honor of turkey day.)Ībout five months ago I walked over to the Asian market to buy carrots and came home with a turkey. ( Happy Throwback Thursday! This article is from WAY back in the day: May 10, 2010. ![]()
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