Salad, Salad, Salad

Perusing packaged salad and lettuce at the grocery today, I finally selected the “Drunk Bunny Salad,” commonly referred to as “Spring Salad Mix.”  A few weeks earlier, after my adult kids served me a new salad they made one night while visiting, I innocently asked, “What is this?” at the dinner table.

I should add that a number of years ago my son’s heart probably stopped beating momentarily when he realized I served iceberg lettuce as all my salads.  He explained then that the popular iceberg lettuce I had grown up with in the 50’s had little nutritional value.  It was mostly water, he explained. 

He determinedly tried again years later to upgrade me into choosing Romaine lettuce, and preferably, a Romaine blend.  I only half-hearttedly purchased Romaine then because I still liked iceberg lettuce.  I thought Romaine appeared too many times later with bad news updates about safety while being pulled from shelves and restaurants sporadically. 

After my original question,"What is this?" both my son and daughter-in-law explained that night what a healthy salad choice this new mixture in the salad was.  “The Spring Salad Mix contains spinach, arugula, chard, and other good things, plus it has nutritional value.  It’s balanced,” they explained.

After taking several bites, I commented on the salad.  “This looks like green stuff from my back yard that resembles the stems seen hanging out of drunk bunnies’ mouths as they drink dandelion wines, party, and cavort happily around my yard most nights.  This seems to be a drunk bunny salad.”

Thus, this salad mixture was appropriately named.  My kids now know it as such, and if someone does notice bunnies gallivanting around a yard with stems drooping from the sides of their mouths, or in people’s mouths, they will know the bunnies and humans are eating healthily.

Now, it seems my millenials are even more knowledgeable about better, more nutritional food choices.  That’s why today I actually picked up the spring salad mix at the grocery … defiantly, and brought it home.  I do try to adjust my dinosaur attitude into a more modern one … at times.  Maybe I should just have a little wine with my Drunk Bunny Salad and the stems that could hang out of my mouth as I eat  this week, eh?  Riesling, or Sauvignon Blanc, or Chardonnay, or ….

Sleep in Heavenly Peace

One morning my church's congregation took turns choosing Christmas hymns for everyone to sing.  As expected, one delusional music lover chose a song, considered popular, but it was simply a common song -- "Silent Night."  My hands started shaking and it felt like hives were under my skin's surface, soon to emit in allergic reaction to my intense dislike and the singing of the song.  Occasionally rebellious, and almost allergic, I sat quietly and "silently," and did not join everyone in the singing of "Silent Night."  I do not like "Silent Night." 

I cannot fathom why so many believe what so many others profess -- "It's the most beautiful song." No, it's not.  Even the lyrics don't mean much except there was silence, sleep, and a baby boy.  As a child, I always liked "The First Noel,"  "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen," and "We Three Kings" as Christmas hymns.  They told stories, and their music sounds appealed to me.  I can't say the same for "Silent Night."  "Silent Night" was never on my list as "interesting."  The lyrics were written several years before being added to quickly written music with a guitar as the organ was broken.  The organ was the only thing silent.

Silent nights do not exist unless someone's deaf, or someone's using a headset.  "Silent" nights do not exist.  If you listen any evening outside, you will hear numerous, natural sounds -- an owl's cry, the wind whispering through the tree branches and leaves, the chirping of a night insect, water soothing and lapping, or even dripping, the rustling of grasses as something moves, and the thud of a nocturnal prey taken.

There was no "silent" night.  Mary was certainly not quiet or silent giving birth to her baby boy.  Labor is physical work, including moans and grunts.  I don't think Joseph would have been silent either.  Supportive words and murmurs would have helped.  Even Jesus would have made baby cries. 

Silent nights must be some frequently tired, sleep-deprived person's dream.  This music and some repeated lyrics seem so boring it might put other folks, including even a baby, to sleep.  Sure, that will bring peace and silence to folks as the slowly boring song puts them all to sleep.

As an adult, I do have to wonder why "O Little Town of Bethlehem" doesn't receive more adulation. What about "O Holy Night"?  Even "Hark the Angels Sing" and "Joy to the World" are far more energy-filled and interesting than "Silent Night" can ever dream it can be.

Please don't choose "Silent Night" when you have a choice.  Sing it in your shower if you must, and torture yourself.  I wish you all  a "silent" night.  Be bored, holy, and peaceful.  Enjoy your sleep.