Tuesday, December 30, 2014


     Every once in a while, you have to sit back and think about what enriches your life.
What is it that makes getting through the day easier? What helps when you are at your wit’s end (what is a wit, and how do you know how to find the end?)? Where do you go when you just can’t cope? My answer to all of these questions is: Peanut Butter.

     The rich creamy texture is like a blanket of sweet warm that touches that inner craving for joy. The easy-access means that you don’t have to wait for Amazon Prime to have it on your shelf. The plastic jar allows for any middle-of-the-night accidents when trying to find it eyes-half-shut. Peanut butter has it all, does it all, is all.

     Peanut butter may have first been used in 821 A.D. as a salve for Roman revelers, but it has survived through the ages as a “feel-good” resource beloved by citizens of every age. 

    When I was a kid, peanut butter was most often seen on white Wonder bread spread with strawberry jelly. It was a staple of little kids, not often seen on the cocktail tray for adults. (I guess it didn’t go with martinis and manhattans.)

     As I grew into adulthood, I embraced p.b. in Reese’s cups, in Butterfinger bars and occasionally on a hygenic finger. I even recall the “sticks to the top of your mouth” jokes that circulated in middle school corridors.

     Now that I am deeply imbedded in the “Age of Maturity” (ugh), I look forward to peanut butter on my morning banana. I have introduced this concept to all of my grandchildren, and a jar will undoubtedly be in one of their hands as they deliver my eulogy. 

     Thank You, P.B. for the creamy ride. 

P.S.  I have recently discovered that peanut butter was first discovered by a Canadian Frenchman, Marcellus Gilmore Edson from Montreal, Quebec. This is quite fascinating to me, Fifi, la folle, as I am a retired French teacher. Maybe my early pbj days were a foreshadowing of my fabulous years in the classroom and nearly 20 unforgettable trips to France. Qui l’aurait su?